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questionableratatouille00 · 5 months

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𝓜𝓸𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓞𝓷 7

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: When her friend doesn’t show up to an outing, Y/n is prompted to make a house call. But when the past comes to get back at them, she has to wonder: is she really capable of moving on?

IMPORTANT: Instead of having the huge warning paragraph here, for this chapter I want to put a little note in. This chapter of Moving On is a lot heavier and quite graphic. Mind the warnings. I will link a summary of the chapter above the series Masterlist link. It will not be an alternate chapter, but rather a summary of what happened in this chapter, without the details. Stay safe and mind your triggers.

Warnings: heavily implied potential suicide, breaking and entering, graphic depictions of gore, guilt, depression, background stucky, violence, crying, scars, yelling, discussions of: phantom limb pain, NON-GRAPHIC past sexual abuse (including assault), cults, suicidal ideation, car crashes, hospitals, funerals, death, past abuse (physical, emotional, it’s HYDRA, y’know?), and there's a slight part where it's implied that the reader is a lesbian but it's easy to ignore.

[ALT/Summary]

🌻 Series Masterlist 🌻

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𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞

“Hey guys!” You smile as you find your newfound friend group standing together outside the cafe.

They all greet you joyfully as you go to stand beside Wanda.

“The only person we’re waiting on is Bucky.” Thor notes.

“He doesn’t live that far away. He should be here by now.” Sam frowns.

“Call him?” You suggest. Sam pulls out his phone, holding it up to his ear.

“Nothing.” He murmurs.

Thor tries. Bucky doesn’t pick up.

Wanda calls, and Bucky doesn’t answer.

You try, and he doesn’t answer your call either.

Clint tries, and Bucky picks up on the second ring.

Sam rolls his eyes, and you and Wanda look at each other, smiling slightly.

“Hey, where are you, man?” Clint asks. You can’t hear what Bucky’s saying. “Okay, well..take care, then.” Clint lowers the phone from his ear, frowning slightly.

“Where is he?” Wanda questions.

“He’s at home. He didn’t really elaborate. I think he’s having a bit of a rough day.” Clint explains.

“And Steve’s out of town,” Wanda murmurs.

Sam nods at her. “Exactly.” He thinks for a moment.

Clint seemingly comes up with a plan. “Does anybody have their address? They live together, right?”

“Yeah. I have it. I don’t think he’d really wanna talk to any of us—besides, I know that I personally am not experienced in how to get through that kind of thing in a healthy way.” Sam replied.

“Me neither. I’m not the best with comforting others, so..” Clint shrugged.

“I doubt he’d feel comfortable with myself. I think it’d be best if one of you helped him.” Thor explained.

Wanda looked at you. And then everyone else looked at you, too.

“Okay,” you breathed. “Send me his address.”

The apartment wasn’t too far away, and you were able to ride the elevator to the sixth floor.

It wasn’t hard finding Bucky and Steve’s apartment, considering Sam had given you his apartment number.

You knocked on the door. Once. Then twice. And then again a third time.

“Bucky?” You said, at a normal volume. You didn’t want to bother any of his neighbors. You called his name again, slightly louder this time. And then you began to worry. How could you guarantee that he was okay? He could’ve fell in the shower or something. Choked on food while he was home alone. Fuck, he could’ve hurt himself.

That thought sent you into a real panic, and you knocked rapidly on the door. Once more, he didn’t answer.

You placed your hand on the door handle. You weren’t usually the type to commit breaking and entering, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Though, how suspicious would it look to break the lock on his door? You’d never been to his apartment, anyone who looked in the hall wouldn’t recognize you.

But now was not the time to think about all that. You expected to have to force the door open, to sacrifice your shoulder to bust down the door. It would make an obnoxiously loud sound and would probably send the neighbors running out into the hallway to see what the hell was going on. And when you opened the door…

…it opened without any problems. You swung the door open, managing to stop it before it hit the wall. Looking into the apartment, you took in the decor. A comfy couch in the living room area, a nice kitchen, a few picture frames hung on the walls here and there. All Steve’s work, you were sure of it.

“Bucky?” You close the door softly behind you. Creeping through the apartment, you find there is no Bucky in sight.

You approached a closed door, which you assumed was a bedroom door. You knocked. “Bucky? If you’re okay just say something. Literally anything, please.”

Your eyes watered when you received no answer. When you open the door, what are you going to find? You weren’t going to be ready to find a corpse. That’s what you were sure of. But what if he was just asleep? That was a possibility.

You opened the door.

You immediately saw him. Or, the outline of him. He was curled up in a blanket, still in bed. You could see him breathing, his torso moving slightly with every breath.

“Bucky?” You whispered.

“Mm.” He answered back.

“It’s 1:54 in the afternoon. We were gonna meet up for lunch, what happened?”

He shrugs in response.

“Clint let you know I was coming, yeah?”

He nods, his back facing you. He doesn't turn to face you, and you shift awkwardly.

"He said you were having a bit of a rough day. Are you sick? Or is more of an..inside thing?"

He says nothing, and you frown. You look towards the curtains, a soft and gentle blue. Steve's favorite color, you remembered.

You hear a soft sniffle come from the bed.

"Are you..crying?"

"No," he disagreed, but you could hear the sadness in his voice.

"It's okay if you are," you stated. "You don't have to hide it."

"This fucking sucks," he laughed, and you could imagine a few more tears spilling down his face. "I mean, I feel like shit. I haven't left my apartment in days, my arm fucking hurts, and I can't even get out of fucking bed." He begins to laugh at the end, as if he's fed up.

You didn't really know what to say. What would Sharon do? Probably send a motivational instagram video, you thought. It made you smile slightly, but you pushed the thought away. Now's not the time.

"Where's Steve?" You asked softly.

"Lehigh, New Jersey. It's a small town, he's visiting a friend, Peggy."

"Have you thought about calling him? He's your roommate and your best friend, right?" You assumed that Steve normally helped Bucky get through his bad days.

"Boyfriend, actually." He sniffled.

"Wait, what? Since when?"

"Since three days ago," he chuckled.

"That's awesome, man." You smiled, stepping a few inches closer.

He nods, rolling over to face you. His face is puffy, his eyes a bit red from crying. The blanket slides down a bit, revealing his scarred chest. You notice the absence of his left arm and the scarring around his shoulder, but you don't dwell on it. Bringing your eyes quickly back to his face, his small expression reveals that he's grateful for this.

"When's Steve coming home?"

"Tomorrow. Around suppertime. He left three days ago, so." He said quietly.

"You should come stay with me. Just for tonight. It'll get you out of the house, and it might make you feel a little better."

"I don't wanna be a bother. You know, more than I'm already being."

"You're not a burden. You're having a rough time, and that's okay, it's human. C'mon, I've got a guest room. You're never too old for a sleepover."

"What, are we gonna paint each other's toenails?"

You gave him a goofy grin. "Damn right. And we'll talk all about boys or something." You laugh, and he does too.

“Hey. C’mon, I’m serious.” You say earnestly after a moment, shoving your hands in your pockets. “S’not just for you. I get lonely.” You make it sound like a joke, but deep down both of you know it’s true.

He nods after a second.

“I’ll be in the living room, yeah? So you can pack up and get ready or whatever you wanna do.” You began to make your way towards the door, and he nodded again, a silent ‘thank you’.

You sat on the couch, which was a light tan color. It was a pretty nice couch.

Bucky came out twenty minutes later, his hair wet and pulled back into a half-up half-down hair style. He wore a black hoodie and some black jeans, a backpack slung over his shoulder.

You smiled warmly, wolf-whistling for dramatic effect. “Lookin’ good Barnes.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He shook his head, but he couldn’t hide his smile.

When you got to your place, the two of you grabbed a beer, plopping down in front of the couch.

“Do..you wanna talk about it?”

“I mean, it was just memories coming up, paired with phantom limb pain.” He explained.

“Drink. You know, if you want. It just seems like a ‘drink-and-talk’ kind of night.”

He took a sip of his beer, and you took a sip of your own.

“I was in the military until, well, you know.” He gestured to his prosthetic. “And then I accidentally joined a cult.”

You blinked, waiting for him to explain further.

“I guess they manipulated me or whatever, but I still fell for it. They were…weird. Always talking about ‘Insight’ and other propaganda. It was just..dumb. I just..needed something to belong to, I guess. They ended up giving me the first prosthetic I ever had. Not this one—this one’s much less…invasive.”

You nod, not sure if there was anything else you could say.

“They had their version of the electric chair. If you didn’t…do what they wanted you to do, they’d uh, punish you. Public whippings, the goddamn chair, more…graphic things. I was the newest member, shit always landed on me. One of the uh, higher ups, had a sex drive bigger than my will to live. Never a fun day for me.” Bucky said, shrugging as if trying to hide how it affected him.

“Then Steve reached out. Kept reaching out, that stubborn son of a bitch." Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. "Got me out of that situation. And then, well, here I am." He looked down at his hand, rubbing his pointer finger against his thumb. “My uh..sister and parents passed away while I was gone. Car crashes suck ass.”

You huffed a laugh. “Tell me about it.”

He glanced to the photo hanging on the wall. “Is…is that..?”

“Oh—yeah. Uh—it’s—well, y’know, it’s—uhm—yeah. It’s—yeah.” You sputtered.

Deciding that it was awkward if you didn’t say something else, you spoke up. "So...you and Steve, huh?"

Bucky rolled his eyes, grinning. "Yeah-huh."

"How'd you know? That..that you liked him?" You asked, and you were sure that you both knew there was more to this question besides your curiosity about Bucky's love life.

"I guess I didn't. I mean, we've known each other since we were real young, y'know. So I guess it was jus' always kinda that way."

"And..how'd you know he liked you back?" A certain woman popped into your mind, with her large doe-like green eyes and soft red hair.

"Cause he looked at me like there was somethin' worth lookin' at." Bucky drawled, making eye-contact with you. You were positive he was being earnest, based on his tone and overall demeanor.

Did Wanda look at you like that? Did you look at her like that?

“Huh,” you mumbled, nodding. You hoped he couldn’t tell what you were thinking. Somehow, deep inside you, you knew he could.

“So,” he took a sip of beer. “You and Wanda, eh?”

“Shut up,” you laughed.

“But seriously! You gotta tell me. Queer to queer, c’mon.” He nudged you with his elbow.

“Okay.” You sigh. “We went to a sunflower field together and ate sunflower-themed baked goods. At the end we called it a date, but I don’t know if that was meant to be romantic or not.”

“Oh. That’s…ambiguous.”

“Tell me about it.” You let out a breath, leaning your head back against the couch.

“But it was totally meant to be romantic. Very homo.”

“What?” You looked at him, but he seemed dead serious.

“Have you seen the way she looks at you? She looks so goddamn happy. And sure, she looks pleasant all the time, but not in the same way. It’s different.”

“Maybe.” You shrugged. You looked at him. “I just…I don’t know. I’m not even sure if I like her. I mean, I think I do. But I can’t tell if I like her or if I like how she reminds me a little of Nat.”

He stayed silent, waiting for you to continue.

"I'm not..trying to find another Natasha--that's...weird. I mean, they're super different. Natasha was older than me, just by two years. And Wanda's a year younger. She's more..bubbly. Like, the best way I can describe it is that Natasha's a deep red, and Wanda's a light pink. Just in like, vibes." You tried to explain. "Sorry, I probably sound crazy."

"No, it makes sense. Wait..what color are my vibes?" He chuckled, but you could tell he wasn't making fun of you.

"Mm...silver. And red. With hints of a greenish-yellow, like old-timey lighting."

"Huh." He nodded.

After a few more minutes, you both departed to your separate rooms. Bucky to the guest room, and you to your bedroom, as per usual. You fell asleep quicker than usual, but whether that was due to the alcohol or due to the comfort of having someone else in the apartment, you weren't sure.

You awoke to the sound of glass shattering. Immediately, you were confused. Had Bucky gotten up to get a drink and dropped a glass? Had something fell?

Though you were tired, you wanted to make sure nothing important was damaged. That included Bucky being hurt.

You pulled yourself out of bed, slowly creeping out of your bedroom. The layout of your apartment was simple. No hallways, minus the tiny one that lead to the bathroom. You surveyed the dark living room, immediately finding the source of the noise.

Your window had been smashed. And in your living room, a few feet from the couch you’d just been sitting against, was a figure. Not Bucky, you were positive. From what you could see, the figure was wearing all black, and sported the unmistakable curves of a woman.

Your blood ran cold, your legs locking up, keeping you in place. Your mouth went dry, and you could hear your heartbeat thundering in your ears. You screamed, hoping that doing so would potentially let someone know that you needed help. And, worse case scenario, that you were murdered. That you didn’t do it yourself. That you wanted to live.

The figure rushed toward you, shoving you to the ground before pinning you there. She slammed a hand over your mouth as you writhed under her. You let out muffled screams and mangled growls, not wanting to go without a fight.

“What the hell?” Bucky walked out into the living room, wearing the same clothes he’d been wearing before, minus the fact that he’d changed from a hoodie to a t-shirt. The absence of his left arm was much more noticeable now.

He quickly peered over the couch, his eyes widening in fear as he found you. “Fuck!” He exclaimed, immediately racing for you. You’d forgotten about his military days; the ones that had clearly set him up with a faster speed and a stronger body.

He ripped the woman off of you, and she let out an animalistic shriek in protest. They wrestled for a moment, before she slammed her boot against his face. He groaned, backing up. She ignored him, beginning to stumble toward you. You got a clear look at her this time. She was wearing a black mask, one built similar to one you’d see a surgeon wear.

She dashed at you again, but this time you were more prepared. You grabbed anywhere you could—her hair, her neck, her ears—and the two of you tussled for a few moments. You grabbed her mask, ripping it off her face and shoving her backward as you stumbled in the opposite direction.

Bucky was clutching at his bloody nose, and you resisted the urge to gag at the red stain that covered the front of his shirt, going from just under the neckline to his chest. You’d seen blood before; you were a woman, and it’d be a real inconvenience to be scared of blood. But the scenario only made your uneasiness worse.

You stared at your attacker’s revealed face, before it dawned on you.

“Yelena?”

She glared at you, chest heaving as she was out of breath. You were sure that you didn’t look any better.

“Why the hell are you here?” You stressed, brows furrowing.

“You know what you did. And now I’m going to kill you for it.” She brandished a knife from her pocket, twisting it around in her fingers.

“What the fuck are you talking about? Yelena, I haven’t seen you since—since—“

"Hello?"

"Hello, is this Ms. L/n? I'm calling from Westview Hospital."

“—since you left me to find my sister dead? Since you left my parents to find their oldest daughter with her face half melted off? Since then, Y/n? What, did you think we just wouldn’t find out?” Her voice steadily rose in volume.

"She was in a car accident, ma'am." Dr. Christine Palmer told you. "We had her in surgery--Dr. Strange and I operated on her ourselves. She's unstable, but there's a chance she'll pull through. We just have to hope for the best."

Natasha, your beloved Natasha, was sitting in a hospital bed. She was unconscious, and you wondered if that was for the best. The skin on her face was burned, stitched up but still seemingly melting.

Dr. Palmer left the room, leaving you alone with her. You sobbed for what felt like decades, before you realized that her family hadn't been alerted. That was up to you. And that only broke you more.

“You don’t understand! I couldn’t—I just—“

You'd ran. It was true, you had run. You'd scribbled Yelena's phone number on the tiny notepad in Nat's hospital room before you raced out. You didn't know what else to do.

“No, you don’t understand! You’re a fucking coward, you sick son of a bitch! You couldn’t even face us after what you did! You didn’t even show up to her funeral!” She shrieked, and then everything went quiet.

You hadn't gone. That was also true. You couldn't bear to show your face after the whole hospital incident. And that wasn't to say that you'd never been to her grave, or that you hadn't left flowers and other small trinkets, because you'd done those things. But you hadn't been there to grieve with the rest of her family. Sometimes you regretted it, other times you pushed the thought away before you could dwell on it.

Bucky had gone; you had no real defense against her anymore. He’d most likely went off to the bathroom to avoid bleeding on the kitchen floor.

“…You don’t get it.” You muttered.

“I bet you don’t even care! You’ve already got some random fucking guy you’re sleeping with!” She shouted at you. “You never loved her! Say it!” Her eyes watered, and you could hear her sadness seep through her voice.

"I did love her! I loved her with everything I had!" You felt your own eyes water as your throat burned.

"Then why did you run away?"

You didn't have an answer to that. Not really. She let out a quiet sob, turning her head to look away from you.

"Because I was scared, Yelena. I didn't know what else to do--I wanted to call you. I wanted to be there, I wanted to reach out, but I was scared. And I've regretted it every day." You pant, tears streaming down your face. “Yelena, I was going to marry her. I’d already bought the ring.”

“You’re pathetic.” She gasped, crying softly. “You’re so pathetic.”

You gave her a nod. “I know.”

“She would’ve never said yes.” She wept bitterly. You both know that that’s not true.

“She already had,” you admitted.

“Ask me later, you goof. You know what I’ll say. But I want you to ask.” Natasha smiled one Sunday morning in the middle of summer. “I love you, you know that?”

“I do.” You grinned. “What kind of ring are you thinking?” You watched her clean the dishes.

“Whatever you’ve already got. You’re not very sneaky, Y/n.” She chuckled. You wrapped your arms around her waist, your chin resting on her shoulder. “But I’d let you propose to me with a ring pop. Not many people get that chance, y’know.”

“I am proud to be blessed with that honor. Now, you want blue raspberry or berry blast?” You teased.

“Why would she spend her life with you? Why do you deserve it?” She sniffled.

“I don’t.” You let the tears pour from your eyes.

“She died because you let her.” Yelena blamed you.

“I fought for her to quit that stupid fucking job. She hated it.” You remembered how much she’d assure you of that fact. But she had friends at her job. She couldn’t just leave them behind. “I fought for that. But she was better at arguing than me. She was better.” You nodded to yourself, resisting the urge to sob hysterically.

“You should’ve fought harder.” Yelena growled.

Without thinking, you let out a whistle just as it seemed she was about to rush and stab you.

“…She…she told you about that?” Yelena stopped.

“Me and Yelena would do it when we were kids. We used to pretend we were spies, and that was our ‘signal’. Then it just kinda became a hello-goodbye thing.” Natasha played with your hair as you laid on her chest. With her other hand, she fiddled with the sheets. “She told me that when she moved away to college, the only thing she could think about was leaving you. She loved you, Yelena. That never changed. She loved you.”

Yelena sobbed. She lowered herself to the ground, too overwhelmed with grief to keep standing. “You got to spend so much time with her.”

“I know.” You nodded, crying yourself. You stepped closer to her, kneeling beside her before wrapping your arms around her.

“It shouldn’t have happened this way,” she lets out a shaky breath. “If I had been there, I could’ve changed it—I could’ve fixed it, I could’ve—“

“Nobody could’ve stopped her. She’d go to work in eight feet of snow with nothing but roller blades to get her there. You know Natasha.” You cut her off.

"I loved her. I loved her so much." She cries.

"I know. We all did." You rubbed her back soothingly. She sobs in your arms. You hold her tightly.

“Goodbye, Y/n L/n.” She whispered after a moment, standing and retreating towards the door.

“Goodbye, Yelena.”

Goodbye, Natasha.

“Fuck, my window’s still broken.”

A/n: bit of a long chapter, eh? Also, just in case you haven’t seen it yet: I’ve got the moving on playlist (Spotify) and the moving on Pinterest board!

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff fic #Moving on

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widow-maximov · 3 years

Text

Miscommunication

Pairing: Natasha x Fem Reader

Warning: Language, fluff, sexual suggestion, some angst.

Summary: Being younger in a relationship can always bring issues, but how will you deal with them is more important.

Word count: 4.5k

My requests are always open so feel more than welcome to pop in a suggestion for the next story :3

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Through out your whole life there was always this strange attraction to women, but not just any women; older women. You would always catch yourself looking at your female teachers rather than girls your age.

Obviously the good looking ones, not the old grandma's that would think they own the school. Nevertheless when you joined the Avengers, you were met with a lot of people who were a lot more older than you but you didn't really care.

For you age is a number and some of those numbers limit you to certain things but you didn't really care. Whilst joining the Avengers you felt like you fit in immediately, which was a big deal to you.

You absolutely loved missions, people blamed it on you being young and had so much energy but in reality, it was just you being you. You loved kicking ass, especially ass that deserved a good beating.

In a way, you and Natasha shared some similarities, the both of you wanted to save everyone and if anything went bad you partly blame yourself for not acting fast enough, that's why missions with you and Natasha always went smoothly.

That didn't go unnoticed by the redhead, she took an interest in you when she noticed how dedicated you were to everything you put your mind to. In a way it reminded her of herself and she knew she wanted to know more about you.

She wasn't much of a open person so she tried her best when it came to you, at first you were intimidated by the Russian but the more you spent your time around the team, the more you saw her relax, she would invite you to movie night when it was only her and Wanda and even went out of the way to train you which you took without hesitation.

Each training session was Natasha flooring you and you being distracted by her, your mind seems to be somewhere else but you were able to hide it around her. Just because you were distracted didn't mean you didn't get better, you could easily floor Bucky if you really tried which was a success for you.

Natasha took it upon herself to teach you a lot of things and how they were done, causing you to develop this feeling of always wanting to be around her.

The more you spend time with Natasha the stronger your feelings have gotten, to the point where the want to kiss her turned into the need. You wanted to distant yourself from her but you just couldn't, her smile, her laugh and the way she would gently touch you whenever she laughed so hard.

It wasn't possible for you to even distant yourself so you decided to face your fears of rejection which was new to you as you were always confident, but confessing your love to someone that could possible consider you as their child made you nervous and scared.

Taking a big breath, you knocked on her door and when she answered, you couldn't move as if you froze right there, causing the redhead to get up and open the door.

There she stood, in shorts, hair loose and a shirt "Are you okay?"

You nodded "Yeah... Can we talk?"

She eyed you first, trying to somehow read of you why you wanted to talk, she moved to the side to let you in, closing her door and facing you "What did you want to talk about?"

You gulped as she finally faced you, you knew this could go two ways, the rejection way or the okay way "I have something to confess to you"

She narrowed her eyes "Did you find someone else to watch movies with?"

You let out a nervous laugh and shook your head "No, no one can replace you"

She smiled proudly at your words "Well then what's this confession?"

You took a deep breath as your eyes locked with hers "I like you"

This time Natasha froze at your words and you stared at her terrified of her next words but there was no words coming from her causing panic to erupt from you.

"It's fine if you don't, I-I just felt like it would be best to tell you rather than distancing myself. You might like people your age and not like age gaps which is fine! I on the other hand don't mind age gap-"

She melted at the sight of you panicking, the way you ranted at the thought of Natasha not feeling the same, what she did next was surprising to you on so many levels.

She wasn't far from you, so she took couple steps which you didn't notice as you were rumbling, she grabbed your face and pulled it towards hers, your lips met hers.

Your body went into shock but the movement of her lips against yours pulled you out and you matched her lips pace, you were melting at her soft lips so when she pulled away, your eyes were still closed with minimum shock coursing through your body.

She laughed slightly which caused you to open your eyes "Found an easy way to shut you up"

You smiled "Does that mean you like me back?"

She nodded as she moved her hands from your face to your neck and your hands found it's way to her hips, pulling her closer "I'll need you to say it"

She rolled her eyes playfully "I like you too Y/n"

Your smile never disappeared as she continued "I don't care about the age gap either, I just care about the person you are"

She opened her mouth to say something but you kissed her this time, she smiled against the kiss and when you pulled away, you rested your forehead against hers, allowing the moment to sink into you.

And that's how you started to date Natasha, the people who the two of you decided to tell were more than accepting of your relationship which was important to you.

Some say you have a secret relationship but for you and Natasha only important people knew and that was enough.. Or well that's what you thought.

Natasha has never been a jealous type of person but when it came to you, some doubts have resurface, she never wanted to voice it to you but she always wanted to just shout from the roof tops that she loves you and that are you are hers.

But when you wanted to just tell close people, she respected you and decided to go along with it, even if it was harder to do so, she had to do it for you.

There were so many people always staring at you, trying to get your attention, flirting with you but you never cared because you had your eyes on Natasha and Natasha only.

You thought telling close people would be best to not cause trouble for the Russian, especially since you are younger this could cause conflict and you didn't want that.

There was some miscommunication between the two of you that neither knew about, causing doubt jealousy and worry. When the two of you were alone, everything was fine but as soon as you stepped out into crowds, all Natasha wanted to do was kiss you so hard that your head spins and mark you in front of everyone as hers.

Today the two of you planned to spend your whole day together, not leaving each others company and just spend this time watching any shows that you needed to catch up on but things changed unfortunately for the both.

You had your head resting on Natasha's chest as she played with your hair, you couldn't concentrate on the movie but how Natasha's fingers felt in your hair, the way she would curl your hair in her finger, letting shivers run down your spine.

Natasha on the other hand was focused on the movie that was playing, she didn't even notice the effect she had on you just by her fingers burying themselves into your hair.

You couldn't hold yourself back anymore, you moved your face more into her neck and when the Russian's attention was back on the TV, you attached your lips to her neck, working your way up to her sweet spot and sucking on it lightly.

Her attention shifted as quickly as it was on the TV "What are you doing?" Her voice was mere whisper as her eyes closed at the feeling of your lips against her soft neck.

You kissed up to her ear, slowly making sure to tease her just enough and whispered "I want you Natty"

Her eyes opened at your words, you always knew how to turn her on with just couple of words, she didn't waste anymore time as she straddled your hips and pinned your hands to either side of your head.

You had a slight grin across your lips as her eyes were consumed with lust "What do you want Y/n/n?"

The way her voice lowered when she asked you the question, you knew it was working so you smirked as you stared into her eyes "I want you to fuck me Natty"

That's all she needed, she smashed her lips against yours as her hands started to wondered over your body, trying to get underneath your shirt just to feel your skin against hers, letting your hands free getting tangled in her hair, pulling her even closer.

You moaned at the contact of her slightly cold hand against your stomach, which she used as an opportunity to stick her tongue to explore your mouth more.

As the kiss started to get more heated with you practically pulling off Natasha's shirt, but you were interrupted "Agent Romanoff, Everyone has been requested to Tony Stark's party tonight"

The advanced AI spoke, making the both of you jump, your breathing was heavy as Natasha muttered "We can skip.."

"Tony said no skipping as according to Mr Stark 'It's very important' that the whole team shows up" The AI spoke up again and this time leaving silence behind.

You sighed as you looked at Natasha's still closed eyes who was breathing heavily "We need to get ready.."

She shook her head as she reattached her lips to your neck "We have time, we can squeeze this in"

You bit your lip to suppress a moan, not wanting to fuel Natasha on, you gently pushed her "I take long to get ready and we still need to shower Tasha"

She groaned as she unglued herself from your neck, looking into your eyes this time "Why does this happen in moments like this.."

Your hands moved the hair our of Natasha's face, holding it in place to have a better view on her face "Lucky isn't on our side today"

You kissed her but she tried to deepen the kiss again, only for you to pull away "Natasha..."

Her hand travelled up and down your body, in places that only she knew would make you melt right underneath her, she remembered every little detail about your body which only made this more difficult to stop.

You were already melting but you knew that there were more important things to attend, so you flipped her so now she was below you, you smiled at her and pecked her lips as you gotten up, earning a groan from the Russian.

"You're starting to act like a grandma, get up and get ready"

She raised her head to look at you with her brows raised "I'm not a grandma!"

You chuckled at her defence "Well then get ready and meet me in my room"

She sighed as you walked out, heading to your room to get ready. By the time you finished showering, Natasha was already ready, she was just waiting until you gotten dressed so the both of you can walk to the party.

Dressing was the easy and the fastest for you, you were dressed as soon as you walked out of the bathroom, all you needed was Natasha to zip you up, which she did. You stood in front of the mirror with the redhead behind you.

"You look красивая (beautiful)" You always loved when Natasha spoke Russian to you, there was something about how it rolled off her tongue with ease that fascinated you.

"Ну ты выглядишь потрясающе (Well you look stunning)" You spoke as you turned around to face her.

She raised her eyebrows at you with shock "Since when do you speak Russian?"

You shrugged with a smile across your lips "I might've been taking lessons on the down low"

She smiled widely at you, she knew that it will be her favourite thing to hear now, the way it sounded made her stomach do flips just at the thought of you speaking Russian again.

She leaned down and planted a kiss, resting her forehead against yours, staring into your eyes, in this moment she wanted to tell you how much she loved you but it was stopping her.

Her doubt and fear was stopping her, she was afraid that you would leave her eventually for someone better than her, so she supressed those words as she pulled away "Let's go"

You forced a smile across your face as you linked your arm with hers and walked out of your room. When you gotten to the roof top, you parted away from Natasha and walked towards the team as they complimented you and were practically drooling.

Natasha hated that, she hated how much they drooled over you. She wasn't jealous of the attention you were getting, she was jealous of how they looked at you; As an opportunity to snatch you away from her.

She always avoided confrontation about her feelings, being afraid it would only drive you away, Natasha has been in relationships before but they never worked out, especially when she raised her concerns they called her crazy and things started to only go down hill from there.

She didn't want that, she would rather suffer in silence than lose you and watch you be happy with someone else. People say love is blinding, because it really is, she never managed to notice the things you would do for her.

Of course she noticed but she never really understood why, she was never treated with the same respect and concern as you were treating her. She loved that you tried to always act like you were older which she didn't mind, she just loved watching you try.

For you on the other hand, you felt like you would never be enough for the redhead, being a lot younger than her could cause some doubts in you as well.

She was a lot more mature and understood life a lot more better than you did, she went through much more than you and you were terrified you would never be as close to what she experience.

But even if you were scared, you always tried to catch it up with something, like learning more Russian to understand Natasha's past better, to someone it might seem small but to you it meant everything.

As you were amongst everyone, Bucky was really close to you, he placed his hand on your hip which Natasha observed from the bar and each time the grip on the glass she was drinking from tighten.

Clint made his way towards the Russian with caution as he looked in the way she was looking "What's making you want to strangle this glass Romanoff?"

She sighed as she let go of the glass and looked at Clint "I'm not sure what you are talking about"

He rolled his eyes "You can try fooling others but I know you" He looked towards you and how Bucky had his hand on your hip to pull you closer into him "Where is the Natasha who would've made her way towards him and nearly kill him on spot?"

She shrugged as she looked back at her glass to take a sip of whatever she was able to pour from the bar "Drowning in alcohol"

He laughed "Y/n changed you so much"

She looked at him as she narrowed her eyes which stopped his laughed "Okay, maybe not"

She sighed again "I just don't want to cause trouble"

He eyed her and then the situation you were in as he leaned on the bar "From what I can see, he is just holding her if he did anything Y/n didn't like, she would've pushed him away"

"That's not the issue here, its the fact that everyone wants her" Natasha finally huffed in annoyance.

"Why haven't you told everyone you're dating her?" He asked as he kept his eyes on you.

Natasha leaned back into her hand "I don't know if that's something she wants"

He looked at Natasha with brows raised "You didn't talk to her about this?"

Natasha shook her head to answer Clint "Why not?"

"I don't want to ruin this, you know my relationships always ended up in the trash" Natasha mumbled as she took a drink.

He shook his head at her "Y/n is different, you should talk to her Nat"

As time went on, you have shifted around the place, more people came to talk to you and you were having an okay time, you wanted Natasha to be by your side but she was just sitting by the bar.

You saw Wanda talking to Tony which you took as an opportunity to approach her, she was your best friend and you trusted her with your whole life unlike some people here.

"Wands, hey!" You greeted her as she pulled you into a hug when her eyes landed on you.

"Excuse me, I will go get something to drink" Tony excused himself as he made his way towards the bar.

"Y/n how are you?" She asked with a smile across her face.

"I'm okay but I wanted to ask you for a small favour.." You showed her with your fingers how small the favour was but she knew you well enough to expect something big.

Her smile dropped as she narrowed her eyes "What is it you want?"

You dramatically scoffed "Uh! It's nothing bad!"

"I just wanted you to read Natasha's mind and tell me why she is so upset"

Wanda's mouth hang open as she stared at you "Why don't you talk to her?"

"I know she won't tell me, I just want to know so I know how to fix whatever is upsetting her.."

"Pleaseee Wands" You begged her which usually worked on Wanda whenever you needed her help.

She sighed as she pitched her nose "Only this time Y/n"

You squeaked as you threw yourself at Wanda "Thank you thank you, I own you one"

"Okay okay, I need to breath" She spoke up as her voice changed a little from the squeeze you were giving her.

You let go of her as you closely watch her do her thing, it took seconds for her to come back as she stared at you blankly "What did you read?"

She shook her head "You two are so oblivious. She is jealous Y/n"

You knitted your brows together at Wanda's words "Why would she be jealous?"

"Because she has to watch as everyone flirts with you and she can't do anything about it" She spilled as you looked at you and rolled her eyes at your obliviousness.

She walked away from you when she noticed that you were trying to understand what she just said, you turned your body towards the bar as you started to make your way towards Natasha but you were stopped by Carol.

"Y/n! There you are, I was looking for you" She smiled from ear to ear.

"I actually need to talk to someone-" You tried to get out of her grasp but it was failed.

"You can do that after a game of spin the bottle!" She excitedly spoke to you as she dragged you towards where the team was gathering.

"Spin the bottle? We are teenagers again?" You laughed as you saw everyone gather around the bottle.

Natasha was dragged by Clint to at least be apart of something instead of sitting by the bar. Whenever it was your turn to kiss someone, the bottle either faced nothing or yourself.

You turned around with your back to the team as you hugged yourself and started to pretend to kiss yourself, making the team laugh, even Natasha cracked a smile at your act.

You turned back as you stared at the bottle "Okay, someone else try this because I feel like this bottle doesn't want me to kiss anyone"

Bucky laughed as he placed his hand on your shoulder "Okay, Carol you can go now"

She nodded as she bend down and span the bottle, it landed on Bruce, they both laughed and kissed and then returned to their places.

Bruce span the bottle as everyone watched carefully, it was close to landing on you but it landed on Bucky instead, you looked at Bucky with a laughter and he just rolled his eyes at you, they pecked each other lips as they both pulled a funny face after.

Bucky smirked as he bend down and span the bottle "Maybe you'll be lucky enough to land a kiss today Y/n"

You chuckled as you shook your head "That's not lucky, that's the opposite Bucky"

Natasha looked down as she smirked, she wanted to walk over to you and just kiss you for just saying that but she couldn't, you looked over at Natasha and saw the smirk which caused a small smile to spread across your lips.

The bottle landed on Thor who was next to him, you had a smug smile across your lips "See Bucky! You were lucky enough to earn a kiss from the god of thunder"

Everyone laughed, they kissed and it repeated until it was Steve's turn, he span the bottle as he watched the bottle spin, it landed on Natasha, you suppressed the feeling of doubt as you watched Steve make his way towards Natasha.

Everyone knew they had something between them and that included you to know as well, you wanted to stop them but it was as if something was stopping you.

Steve had a smirk across his lips "I think we are meant to be Romanoff"

Natasha was speechless, he leaned down and her eyes darted to you, the way you stared at them and before she could move, he kissed her. You cleared your throat as you looked anywhere but at the sight of your girlfriend being kissed by her ex.

He moved away from her and walked back to his place with a smug smile, he eyed every guy standing not really thinking Natasha could be into girls as well.

She wiped her mouth as she bend down and span the bottle, you watched the bottle and when it landed on Steve again, you excused yourself to the bathroom.

Even if it was a game and the kissing probably didn't mean anything to the Russian, it hurt you to watch Steve think he finally claimed Natasha. You expected Natasha to follow you but she didn't, so you took a deep breath, fix the makeup that ran down your face and walked back out there.

They weren't playing the game anymore as they scattered all over the party, so you made your way towards the bar, getting 2 shots and drinking them in one go without anything to chase it after.

You cleared your throat as you watched Natasha force a smile on her beautiful lips as Steve flirted with her, you knew how she felt and you weren't going to let this go on like this.

You ordered another shot for courage, you definitely needed it and watched as Steve pulled the redhead into him like she was his, you narrowed your eyes which was filled with determination as you marched over to him.

You cleared your throat which caused Steve to look over at you "Sorry Y/n but I'm not available right now" He looked back at Natasha with a smile.

You crossed your arms "Actually, I was going to tell you to drop your hands of Natasha"

He looked back at you with annoyance "Why?"

This caused the team's attention to be shifted towards the scene, Wanda smiled as she watch you finally do something about this miscommunication between you and Natasha.

"Could you step away so I can show you?" You asked him calmly as he dropped his hands from Natasha and took a step back.

You watched him before taking a deep breath and shifting your attention to the woman you love "What are you doing Y/n/n?"

"Y/n/n?" Steve questioned but was ignored as you sadly smiled at Natasha.

"What I should've done in the first place.."

Natasha was going to question you but you were faster, you took a step forward as you pulled her into you, just like you done many times before, and smashed your lips against hers, it was a gentle kiss something that happened often between the two of you.

Steve raised his brows at what was in front of him, Clint had a smirk across his lips and Wanda cheered you on as the rest just stood there shocked.

You pulled away as you looked over at Steve "Why Steve? Because Natasha is my girlfriend"

The redhead's eyes widen at your words as she had a smile across her lips, he backed away with his hands up and nodded as he walked away not wanting to argue.

You looked back at Natasha "I'm sorry Natty"

She was going to protest against your apology but you continued "I should've spoke with you about this decision before making one for the both of us. I didn't want to make you to be uncomfortable or cause trouble with the team"

Natasha shook her head "I'm sorry as well детка (baby) I didn't speak up about what I felt either, and you would never make me uncomfortable, I have the best time with you by my side"

You smiled at her words as you placed a little kiss on her lips, whilst everyone around you made cute sounds at the scene before them, you turned your head to look at them with practically tears in their eyes.

Natasha giggled quietly as she rested her head against the side of yours since your face was turned and she whispered "Plus you looked so hot when you get jealous"

You chuckled at her words as you felt the courage wear off but still having enough to say what you finally wanted to. You pulled away from her as you stared into her eyes, swallowing the fear down as she still had a smile spread across her lips.

"I love you Talia" You spilled it out as you had a glimpse of fear in your eyes.

This only fuel her smile to spread more widely at your words "I love you too Y/n/n"

She kissed you as you let out a sigh of relief and smiled at the touch of her lips, with everyone cheering it was only her to could feel and hear. Your heart beating one hundred miles per hour as she confirmed she felt the same, proving that no matter how old the both of you are, she still was just as afraid as you were....

⸻⸻⋙☸⋘⸻⸻

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Tag list: @eilarch, @wandanatblogs, @madamevirgo @diaryoflife

#natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #natasha fluff #black widow #natasha romanoff x reader #reader #marvel #the avengers #natasha romanov

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illfoandillfie · 3 years

Text

Kinktober Day 7: Somnophilia (+Double Penetration - 2 holes)

Kinktober Masterlist | Regular Masterlist

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader

Words: 2,397

Warnings: Somnophilia, double penetration, anal sex, sex toys (dildo + plug), dom!Roger, protected sex, light degradation (slut), edging

A/N: This was kind of inspired by a couple of different posts I saw on a (now deleted) porn blog. I’ve been wanting to do something with the concepts for a little while now and this seemed like the perfect opportunity!

I guess I was picturing 70s rog since its a flatmate/fwb type relationship but go nuts imagining whatever you want lmao

It hadn’t been Roger’s idea to set up a friends with bennefits type arrangement, but he’d liked the suggestion when you made it and before the end of the night was out you’d sealed the deal, so to speak. He’d been a touch tispy at the time, as had you, but when he woke up in your bed the next morning he hadn’t believed it to be a mistake, even if you were his flatmate. And so the arrangement (or as Roger dubbed it, The Fuckbuddy Pact) stuck. In an effort to make sure neither of you would feel weird about what happened and to avoid anything becoming too much like a relationship, Roger suggested that you should get all your kinks and weird fetishes out into the open straight away.

“That way we’ll both know what we’re in for from the jump,” he said, looking at you from the opposite end of the couch, “None of that getting to know you shit, or taking our time. We’re both here for sex so let’s just figure out what sex we’ll both like and get straight into it, right?” “Sounds excellent,” you’d said, cheersing his bottle of beer with your glass. It was how he’d discovered your interest in somnophilia (a term he’d not heard before and had needed a thorough explanation of). But once he knew what it was, Roger had been keen to try it out with you. There were other things too but the somnophilia was the newest to him and, thus, the most exciting. Before the month was out you’d figured out a system to incorproate it into your sex safely. The main rule was that if either of you was asleep and naked, it was okay to initiate sex. Eventually there ended up being a few exceptions or addendums added to that rule – it was still okay if the sleeping party wore a top of some kind as long as they were pantsless, and once or twice lingerie had been deemed to not count as clothes, but only on special occasions when you’d prearranged it. It became a regular part of your sex lives, which was especially useful for Roger who often didn’t get home from playing gigs until the early hours of the morning. If you were in bed and undressed, he’d take the opportunity to blow off some of the adrenaline without having to use his hand which was underwhelming compared to your cunt. But, more often than not, you’d do what most sexual partners did and got it out of your systems before bed time.

Roger already suspected that you were hoping for a quick tumble when he heard the knock on his door, but he had other things on his mind too as he told you to come in. “Hey, Rog, you busy?” “Uhhh yeah, sorry, running late for rehearsals but I can’t find my fucking drumsticks,” Roger said, moving things around his desk as he searched for the missing sticks. “Oh, damn.” “Let me guess,” he said, pausing in the hunt and turning to face you, “horny?” “My friend recommended a porn thing and I kinda got worked up.” You shrugged, unembarrassed to admit what you wanted. That self-confidence was enough to make Roger wish he could stay and give you what you wanted but he was already late and couldn’t afford to be later. Instead he laughed and turned back to double check his backpack, “I would but, I’m leaving as soon as I fin- Aha! Bloody things must have rolled off the bed. Sorry, Y/N.” “Oh, no worries. I’ll take care of myself.” He smiled at the thought, “Well I better go. See you tonight?” “Yeah, see ya. Have fun.”

It was later than he’d expected by the time Roger got home. Part of him (the part in his pants mostly) vaguely wondered if you’d still be up for something but the bits of him controlled by his brain thought it more likely that you’d have had a nice couple of orgasms on your own and called it a night. Still, he thought he might at least check in on you once he’d dropped his bag in his room. To his surprise though, his bed wasn’t empty like it should have been. He jumped when the light from the hall softly illuminated you, on your back and deep asleep, but his shock quickly turned to delight as he realised you were naked. “You little minx,” he muttered under his breath, impressed by the invitation you were giving him. But as he walked closer he paused again, noticing something he hadn’t been able to see from the doorway. There, beside your hand, was your favourite glass dildo, as if you’d passed out after using it. “Oh you are naughty,” Roger chuckled. He traced one hand down your body, between your breasts and over your stomach, and softly said your name, checking if you’d rouse. But you were deep asleep and not likely to wake up any time soon. A plan for what to do with you forming, Roger stepped away from you for a moment to strip down to his briefs. His cock was already beginning to stir at the sight of you. He reached out to touch you again, less cautiously this time, palming your breasts before dipping his hand lower and lower, down to your cunt, pleased to find you still wet from whatever you’d been doing before you fell asleep. You let out a soft hum as he explored you, thumb teasing over your clit as he wet his fingers between your folds. Roger paused at the sound, not ready for you to wake up yet, but once it was clear you were still asleep he sank two fingers into you. Slowly they penetrated your heat, pausing to make sure the sensation hadn’t roused you at all. But you slept on. Carefully Roger partially withdrew his fingers before sinking them in again, gradually working up to a consistent thrust that had your unconscious body sighing and spreading your legs wider. “Good girl,” he whispered, watching you carefully. The hall light was still on but his door wasn’t open fully so the darkness was only dimmed slightly. He twisted his fingers inside you, easily finding the spots that usually made you scream his name but which now just made your eyebrows knit together. By this point in your relationships Roger was quite confident that he could understand your body. He’d made you cum enough times, awake and asleep, to know what you liked and just how much you liked it. And he knew what it looked like when you were close to orgasm. Which is how he knew to stop, to still his fingers and wait for you to calm down.

There was no real reason to edge you. If anything it just made it more likely you’d wake before he’d got his dick wet. But he had fun with it. Watching the way you’d shift, your chest rising and falling more rapidly, your lips parted as whimpers fell from them, your hips automatically rolling to meet his hand. And then he’d stop again. It made him chuckle quietly to himself. Knowing he could control your body so easily was thrilling. It made him want to do it more. So as soon as your face had relaxed again, your limbs loose and limp, he’d settle into the rhythm once more, curious how much you’d take before you woke up and begged him to finish you off. It was tempting to just keep going. He pictured you waking with a moan, your first words a plea for release or better yet for his cock so he could fuck you properly. Roger groaned. In the time he’d taken to edge you a handful of times his dick had well and truly stiffened and, as much as he enjoyed toying with you, what he really wanted was to cum in you so when you woke you’d know you’d been used. With that thought in mind he withdrew his fingers fully, taking a second to suck them clean and enjoy your taste. Having you on his tongue just made him want to fuck you more so he carefully knelt between your legs, shifting one to give himself a better angle. He was moments from finally taking what he so wanted to take from you, when something caught his eye.

It didn’t glint as much as it did in the day but he could see it’s outline all the same. And when he double checked that he wasn’t imaging it, pressing his thumb against the hard end of it, you groaned. “A dildo and a butt plug?” He asked you, knowing you wouldn’t respond, “Is that a surprise for me? Or is it just because nothing satisfies you like I do?” Roger’s hand slipped down to his underwear, pushing his briefs down enough that he could get his cock out. He hissed as he spread his precum along his length, contemplating how he should use you. “Could fuck your cunt now and hope you stay asleep long enough for me to get back there. Or maybe I should just go all in, have your arse straight away. That’ll mean wearing a condom though. Or would it?” he shook his head, now was not the time to try anal raw for the first time, “No, condom definitely.” He was still trying to decide what to do when you shifted in your sleep, rolling onto your side. The new position you lay in made it much easier to reach your arsehole. “That decides it then,” Roger said to himself, shedding his underwear and opening his bedside draw for his lube.

Carefully, he settled himself behind you and slowly began to remove your plug. It took a few stops and starts, pulling out and sinking in, almost fucking you with it, as you whimpered in your sleep but you seemed to press yourself back towards him as if trying to encourage him. “Just can’t get enough of me, can you?” he chuckled as he set the plug aside and spread the lube around your hole. He rolled the condom down his shaft and spread the lube along it too, humming at the slick friction of his hand, knowing he was about to feel something a hundred thousand times better. And then he lined himself up, pushing the head of his cock into the ring of muscles you’d so generously stretched out with your plug. He went slowly there too, partially so you’d sleep on and partially so he wouldn’t cum embarrassingly fast. When he finally began to fuck you, you moaned into your pillow, able to feel it in your sleep. Roger bit his lip to keep his own moan from getting too loud. You moved in your sleep again, your legs opening more as you half rolled onto your front. It let Roger fuck you deeper and gave him better access to your pussy too. “You’re a bit of a whore when you’re alseep,” he said softly, reaching for the dildo. You were still wet enough that it sank into you easily, like it remembered where it had been earlier and fit into your cunt perfectly. The way you lay meant he didn’t have what he’d call easy access to you but it was enough that he could thrust the dildo somewhat rhythmically. He faltered here and there as the feeling of fucking you distracted him but he didn’t feel too bad about the slips, knowing it was keeping you from reaching your release. Your sleepy sighs and moans got louder as he filled both your holes which just made him fuck you harder, enjoying the sounds you were making and wanting to hear more.

You woke with a broken moan in your throat, jerking under Roger’s hands but he shushed you, his palms warm against your skin and his voice familiar and reassuring. “Stay right there, baby. Being such a good set of holes for me to enjoy.” You couldn’t do much more than moan again, dazed from the sudden way you’d been pulled back to consciousness and realising what you’d felt in your dreams had been very real indeed. “This was what you wanted wasn’t it? When you fell asleep in my bed.” You nodded, the sound of the fabric of the pillowcase loud against your ear. “Uh uh, words Love. If you’re going to be a slut the least you can do is admit it.” “Yes, Rog. Want-wanted this.” “Good girl. And how do you feel now?” “Oh god, close. So close.” Roger slowed the pace of the dildo, putting more effort into thrusting into you, his hips slapping loudly against your skin. You keened at the loss of friction. “Slut-s don’t com-complain.” Roger grunted as he used you, “They t-ake what they’re giv-en.” You whined but that just made Roger laugh, louder now you were awake but broken by groans and moans of his own. It didn’t take much more for him to cum, stuttering out, “Fu-ck Y-Y/N,” as he did.

Roger was panting as he eased himself out of your arsehole, replacing his cock with the plug and giving your hip a light tap of thanks. The dildo was still inside you, but he’d not been moving it at all as he reached his climax so it wasn’t much help. “Did you cum?” he asked, his breathing still heavy as he flopped onto the mattress beside you. You shook your head and sighed, “And after I waited here all night to surprise you too. Thought you’d be home sooner.” “Is that why you had the toys? You got bored waiting for me?” “No, I was expecting you to come home while I was using them. Only then I came and fell asleep.” "Of course,” Roger laughed, “you still got your shag though, don’t know why you’re complaining.” “I’m really fucking horny still, that’s bloody why. What are you smirking about?” “Nothing. Just nice to know edging you in your sleep works just as well as when you’re awake.” “Prick!” you squealed though unable to contain your smile at the idea. “Don’t worry. Give me a few minutes to clean up and get my stamina back and then I’ll make you cum as many times as you want.”

Taglist: @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave @scorpiogemini

#my writing #my blurbs #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor smut #roger taylor imagine

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wlwmarvelenthusiast · 3 years

Note

Can we get sequel to goose’s best friend??? That was fantastic

I'll have you all know I had this saved under the working title "Goose's Mom Has Got It Going On"

Goose's Best Friend, Part 2

Part 1

Summary: After finding out your flirty pen-pal was Carol Danvers, you have to see if you can look past your shared past and make it work.

Pairings: Carol Danvers x Reader

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 2,897

A date with Carol Danvers was dangerous. There were about a million things that could go horribly wrong, all of which you ran over in your head as you walked to the cafe down the street, the blonde in question at your side. Neither of you had spoken a single word since you’d agreed to a coffee date after she’d shown up at your apartment and admitted that she had been the girl you’d been flirting with over the little notes on Goose’s collar.

When she’d first showed up at your door, you’d refused her.

You hated Carol Danvers, right? She was arrogant, self-centred, and an all-around pain in the ass. She was not a joy to be around and that had never, not once, been debatable. Not until that moment when, for some unknown reason, your heart skipped a beat when that too-familiar grin crossed her lips. You’d managed to ignore the feeling, tightening your grip on the doorknob to ready yourself to shut the passage that was open between you.

“Danvers,” you’d said, suppressing the shake in your voice. “Sorry I wasted your time.”

“Wasted my time? What do you mean?”

“We’ve never gotten along much, have we? Who’s to say that should start now?”

You’d tried to shut the door, then, but she’d put her foot in the way. “Coffee. Tomorrow morning.”

Uncertainty was something you thought you’d never see in the eyes of the army pilot. Yet, there she’d stood, gaze cast just past your head at the golden numbers nailed to your apartment door. It was something that made you momentarily forget just who it was. That show of uncertainty was comforting to you. It showed she’d changed. If she could change her attitude for just a moment then, who was to say she couldn’t change her attitude just a little more? You wanted to meet the Carol who had sent you all those notes.

“Tomorrow morning,” you’d agreed. Then you’d shut the door.

Now, here you were, walking into the small cafe at her side. She held the door open for you, an awkward smile tugging at her lips as she did. Your smile was just as forced, and the quiet thank you just as uncomfortable. Neither of you fit into the atmosphere one bit. It was calm, peaceful, and comfortable inside. You were wringing your hands together because you weren’t sure what to do with them, and your gaze was locked to the ground, unsure if you should be looking at Carol or not.

You finally stepped up to the front of the line, eyes travelling over the board quickly. Carol ordered a black coffee, and then her eyes turned to you. You cleared your throat hard before you ordered yourself a drink. When the barista asked suddenly, if it was together or separate, you and Carol both tensed up impossibly more. Her mouth opened and then shut once as she tried to find words. After forty-five seconds of tense silence, you whipped your wallet out.

“Together. Credit.”

You paid for both drinks and then moved to wait for them to be prepared. The entire time you waited, neither you nor Carol spoke a word. Instead, you bathed in the most uncomfortable silence you’d ever felt before in your entire life. Finally, the drinks arrived. You handed Carol hers, and she led you to a table in the corner. You both sat down, the silence reigning until you finally decided to clear your throat and be the first to speak.

“So, you have a cat.”

“Yeah. He’s a good cat. I got him from a friend,” Carol said, before sipping her drink. “Long story.”

You decided not to prod about that. You didn’t know her well enough to. Instead, you only nodded in response. You took to glancing around the room, something that gave you a reason to look away from Carol whilst not seeming awkward about it. There weren’t many other people in the cafe, and you didn’t stare too long at any one of them, lest they think you were being rude. Eventually, your gaze moved back to the blonde across from you.

“So, I guess this was unexpected,” Carol laughed tightly. “Me, I mean.”

“I was surprised. It was… unexpected,” you repeated.

“You don’t sound overly pleased.”

You had to stop and think about that. You’d been avoiding pondering just how you felt about this. When you’d worked up the confidence to ask your anonymous pen-pal to a coffee date, you’d been quite excited. Once you’d found out just who you’d asked on a date, though, your feelings had changed. You were still open to it, even if you were a little more hesitant. It made you nervous. Carol Danvers had never liked you and you’d never liked her. She’d spent every moment you’d ever spent with her teasing and taunting you and you’d never enjoyed it.

“Surprised,” you repeated. “We’ve never much gotten along.”

Carol shrugged. “Well, I wasn’t ecstatic either, you know.”

That was starting to sound a little more like the Carol you knew. Of course she would say something like that. For a second you had to stop and remind yourself of who you were talking to. You took a deep breath, focused on the warm drink in your hands, and then looked back up at the army pilot. She wasn’t looking at you, the comment she’d made obviously not having meant anything to her. That fact almost made you even angrier.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Carol only let her gaze flicker to you once before turning it back to whatever she was looking at behind you. “I mean it’s you,” she said nonchalantly. She looked back at you. “But I came anyway. After those notes, how couldn’t I?”

“You came anyway,” you repeated with a scoff. “And that was right after you overlooked the fact that it was me, right?”

Your voice had risen just enough that the table next to you was able to hear your conversation. They may have been trying to be discreet about it, but you know the young couple sitting across each other, hands clasped under the table, were listening in. Every once in a while their eyes would wander to your table, their conversation had dropped, and they were leaning a little closer than necessary. You wanted to give them a rude gesture with your hands, but then again, you wanted to give that same gesture to your date.

Carol rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then tell me what you did mean.”

“You’re not exactly my type, you know.”

“And what’s that mean, Danvers? I'm not exciting enough for you? Pardon me for enjoying peace and quiet.” You stood up. “You’re welcome, by the way, for the coffee.”

You stood up and left your half-empty drink on the table, making for the exit. Carol didn’t stop you.

You were half tempted to hang up on the woman that was on and on in your ear. You lay back against the arm of the sofa, tucking the cordless phone between your ear and your shoulder. You grabbed the TV remote off the end table beside you and turned the TV on. It was the time of day for your favourite TV show. The sound of the theme song caught the attention of your best friend. She gave a very loud shout of protest, making you scramble for the phone to pull it away from your ear.

“You are not seriously watching TV right now!”

“I am seriously watching TV. Miami Vice is on.”

“You need to go knock on Carol’s door, and-”

You snarled. After the whole incident with the notes on Goose’s collar, you’d been unable to not think about the sweet side of Carol. When you saw her or saw Goose, it’d been all you thought about. But you’d gotten over it. Once more Carol no longer elicited any feelings other than rage. That was how you liked it. There was no want for anything else. In fact, you made sure that Carol no longer took up more than five minutes of your thoughts. You didn’t need to let her rule your life like that.

“I won’t do any such thing. I’d rather date the Wicked Witch of the fucking West.”

“Well, pretty soon that’s going to be your only option left.”

“You should see me right now. I've practically fallen off my seat with laughter,” you said, sarcasm coating your words.

There was a knock at your door before she could answer. You didn’t even tell her as you put the phone down on the coffee table, turned the volume down on the TV, and headed for the front door. You opened it up without checking who it was, and your eyebrows furrowed momentarily when no one was there. When Goose strode into your apartment with confidence, though, you couldn’t help but smile. You shut the door behind him and picked up the phone once more.

“Sorry. I had to get the door,” you muttered, jamming the phone between your ear and your shoulder as you reached for the cat treats.

“Was it Carol?”

“It was not,” you said, rolling your eyes. “It was my new best friend.”

“New best friend?!” She hesitated a moment. “It’s that cat, isn’t it?”

You decided not to dignify that with an answer. You turned to hand Goose one of the treats, only to find that he’d disappeared. You glanced every which way to find him, but the tabby was nowhere in sight. His presence was announced when you heard the shatter from the living room. The red mug that your grandmother had given you for your birthday was in pieces on the floor. You scowled at the cat, but when he glanced up at you with wide eyes, you found you couldn’t stay mad at him. Instead, you grabbed the dustpan and hung up the phone with a quick apology.

As you swept the red pieces of ceramic off the floor, you glance up at Goose. Casually, he licked one of his front paws where he was sat upon the coffee table. You might have looked away, but you noticed the small piece of paper taped around his collar. There was some unidentifiable feeling swirling around in your stomach. You hadn’t talked to Carol since the incident in the cafe. You had half a mind to just leave the paper where it was, but you found, as you dumped the broken mug in the trash and tried to resume watching your show, you couldn’t get your mind off it. Finally, when Goose made to stride past you, you reached out and took it.

For a few long moments, you held it folded in your hands. There was no way there was any sort of apology on the small note. That was not the style of Carol Danvers. Not that you knew, anyway. You turned it over a few more times in your hands before you finally unfolded it, still hesitating before you read it. Goose was watching you as if he were interested to see what your expression might be. You glanced down at the untidy scrawl that belonged to your least-favourite neighbour.

Can we talk?

You wanted to write out a simple no as a reply. She didn’t deserve that, did she? Not when you’d already given her a chance after she’d been nothing but terrible to you for well over a year. You crumpled the note and threw it across the room, watching it fall on the floor beside the TV. With nothing more than a simple grumble, you reached for the TV remote, turning up the volume, sitting back, and putting all of your attention into the show in front of you.

The sun streaming through the window of your bedroom was blinding. You’d been too distracted to remember to close the curtains the night before, so it was unobstructed as it was amplified by the glass pane in your window and shone into your eyes. With a hand raised to protect your eyes, you glanced over at the digital clock that was sat on your nightstand. You’d slept in. That fact didn’t surprise you much. You hadn’t slept much.

Only when you let your head fall back against the pillows once more, eyes squeezed shut to protect them from the bright light, did you realize the second presence you could feel in your room. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, a little surprised that it was still present. You reached out with your left arm, using it to feel around the bed to find them. It didn’t take long, the other body being well within your reach. Your hand made contact so that you were both awake.

“You’re still here,” you mumbled, stretching as you turned your head to meet open eyes. “I thought you’d be gone by now.”

Of course, Goose didn’t answer.

He’d been your companion the night before when you’d been tossing and turning, unable to get your brain to stop thinking about Carol’s note that was still crumpled into a small ball on the floor in your living room. He’d sat by your side and let you stroke the fur on his head as your mind raced, your own thoughts not letting you get a good night’s sleep. Eventually, he’d even curled up next to you on your bed, a strong sense of comfort coming from the action. You ran a hand over his head.

“Thanks, Buddy.”

He mewed in response.

You decided it was well time to get up, so you rolled off the bed. The first thing you did was jump in the shower, letting the hot water wash away some of the stress from the night before. When you emerged in sweat pants and a t-shirt, Goose was still on the bed. You waved for him to follow you into the kitchen. You started the coffee maker and went to the fridge to grab the creamer. There was none left. You groaned, the noise drowned out by Goose’s loud cry from behind you. He was sitting by the empty bag of treats.

“Yeah, me too,” you grumbled. “Wait here. I’ll go get more.”

So, you grabbed your keys, slid your feet into your shoes, and headed out the front door. You weren’t expected for Carol to be there, hand raised as if she’d been preparing to knock on the door. For a brief moment, she glanced behind you to take a look at Goose on the kitchen counter. Her gaze moved back to you. You were still a little shocked, not having been prepared for the early-morning (or, technically, early-afternoon) encounter outside your door.

“He stayed the night?” She asked.

“Mhm.”

It was a stupid response, and you cursed yourself for it right away. She didn’t seem to think twice of it. Her eyes were searching your face carefully. You didn’t know what she was looking for, but you were forcing yourself from blushing bright red. Judging by the absence of her usual smirk, she didn’t know that. You shut the door behind you, stepping around Carol to remove yourself from the closeness you’d been forced into.

“I was just going to get some coffee creamer. Did you want him back?” You said, shoving the keys into your pocket.

“No,” she said, twisting her fingers together. “I was looking for you.”

“Oh,” was all you said. “Why?”

“I wanted to talk.”

You could’ve slammed your palm into your forehead. Of course that’s why she was looking for you. She’d actually told you that she’d wanted to talk. You shouldn’t have been surprised that she’d sought you out to do just that. You supposed that’s what you got for not giving her a response. You nodded, finally, and leaned against the wall behind you, arms crossed over your chest. It was a posture that made you look closed off, and that was exactly what you wanted.

“I’m sorry for what I said the other day,” she began slowly. “And I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you since I’ve lived here.”

Maybe you’d been mistaken. Maybe she did know how to apologize.

“Thanks,” you said with a nod. “I’m sorry I stormed out.”

“I was just… I was hoping you’d give me another chance. Maybe lunch this time. On me.”

You sighed. “How many chances do you think you deserve, Carol?”

You’d meant to ask the question with anger. It had been intended as something rhetorical. What it came out as, though, was hurt and broken. At some point, it had become a sincere question. With eyes just as sincere, though, Carol took one single step closer.

“I just need one more.”

You hesitated. She’d hurt you. She was dangerous. But she didn’t want much. Just one more chance. You wanted to give it to her. You wanted to let her try and prove herself. That’s what your heart wanted. Your head was powerful, though, and rejected the feelings of your heart. It was screaming something different.

It was only one more chance, but you had to decide if she deserved it.

“Why don’t you start by walking with me to the store?” You offered.

Carol nodded. “I can do that.”

And, just maybe, that was the start of one more chance.

#carol danvers #captain marvel #carol danvers x reader #captain marvel x reader #marvel #mcu #lesbain #wlw

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junko-and-riri-domain · 3 years

Text

five hearts on the line | pjs

i know that i said last chapter that this one wouldn’t be as angsty but then i started writing and it sorta just happened? so there’s some angst in this one (forgive me again my loves 🥺)

Hope was never a plan, only a direction. After all, you could hope for money and with that hope make a plan to get it. Or you could hope for your parent’s approval but actually getting it was a different process for everyone. Jay had hoped for a future with you and Ni-ki, he really did. It was the direction he saw the rest of his life going towards, you and him as the parents of three boys. He knew it was foolish of him to hope of such things when so much chaos had happened and it was still too early since you never actually put a label on the relationship, hence, why he was going to ask the “what are we?” question that night.

17 days, 20 hours, and 30 minutes was how long it had been since you last saw each other face to face. But who was counting? At this point, he was entering himself into self-given heartbreak and there was nothing he could do to stop it. The scent of your shampoo still lingered on the fibers of his pillowcase but he couldn’t bring himself to wash it away. When he closed his eyes he could still feel your head resting on his chest and your fingers trailing random patterns on his arms. Some days it seemed like he could still hear Ni-ki’s giggles mixed in with Sunoo and Jungwon’s. The boys were doing ok, they still talked to each other at school, and Jay would bring them to the bakery if they wanted something. But he no longer went inside. He’d tell his boys that he needed to take a call or send a quick email and instead would wait for them in the car but really, he was just too scared to see you because he knew that the second he saw you he’d fall back in love all over again. Or maybe that love never left and he’d instead be forced to acknowledge its existence. The door to his office opening brings Jay out of his thoughts, sounds of excitement from his sons greeting his ears.

“Thanks, man,” he said to Jake with a small smile. This situation felt familiar to him and it didn’t take long for him to realize that it was because the first time he heard about you was when Jake brought the boys to his office and you defended him against Minjoo’s grandmother.

“Can we sleepover at Ni-ki dongsaeng’s place tomorrow?” Jungwon asked. Tomorrow was Saturday meaning that he’d drop off the boys Saturday morning, see you, leave, pick up the boys Sunday morning, see you, and leave again.

“I’ll text his mom tonight.”

Later that night after the boys were put to bed and he was laying in his, he found himself constantly typing and deleting what he had initially written out. To his surprise, you had texted him first with a simple “hey” to which he responded the same. While sorting out the details of tomorrow, Jay couldn’t help the slight happiness filling him now having a reason to talk to you again.

You couldn’t really place a name on the feelings coursing through your veins when you woke up on Saturday morning. Nerves, slight anxiousness, maybe even fear? While you were glad to be able to spend time with Sunoo and Jungwon, seeing Jay was a different story. The thought of seeing him again left you restless which led to constantly tossing and turning in bed, ultimately resulting in a sleepless night. When the morning came, you heard a knock on your door and upon opening it the boys greeted you before quickly rushing to Ni-ki’s room, leaving you alone with Jay. He looked like a mess, hair slightly messy, eyes somewhat bloodshot red, and lips chapped dry. You probably didn’t look any better either.

“Are you ok?” Upon saying it you realized what a dumb question it was. Only a little over two weeks had passed and two weeks wasn’t nearly enough to get over what happened. But if you were being honest with yourself, you weren’t sure if you’d ever get over it.

“Still processing, you?” Jay replied.

“Yeah, same here.” There was a sort of longing look in Jay’s eyes. That kind that told you he felt as if he wanted to say something but chose not to.

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” was all his reply before leaving.

Spending the day with three boys like Sunoo, Jungwon, and Ni-ki meant that they were eager to do whatever it was that you had planned for them. You had decided to try out new cake recipes and in the process using them as your little helpers and taste testers. While it did result in the boys getting cake mix all over their clothes and a little on their faces, their smiles of happiness and giggles of joy were well worth the cleanup after. When night came and you were tucking the boys into bed, you felt a hand grab yours. Seeing that it was Sunoo’s, you smiled,

“What’s up, bubs?”

“I don’t want Appa to pick us up tomorrow, I wanna stay with Eomma.”

“Eomma?” you asked. He nodded with a pout,

“Minjoo said that living together makes you a family and we lived together which makes you our Eomma, not our Noona! But because you and Ni-ki left he said you and Appa got divorced and you chose Ni-ki instead of me and Jungwon.” Tears started to fall from Sunoo’s eyes as he continued, “Wae, Eomma? Can’t you keep me and Jungwon-ah too?”

“Sunoo, I…” what were you even supposed to tell him? This was a conversation you shouldn’t be having with just the boys alone, after all, Jay needed to be here since they were his boys. Jungwon ended up waking up and crying too at the sight of his hyung crying which led to a confused Ni-ki. As you hugged the boys and rubbed their backs, your ears were met with blubbers of “Eomma” and “Eomma stay.” You didn’t know how long it took for them to calm down and finally head to sleep but once they did, you knew that you needed to talk to Jay now. Your hand trembled a little when holding your phone but as you heard Jay’s voice, you felt somewhat calmed.

“Everything ok?” he asked, sounding like he had just woken up. Letting out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding,

“Can you come over?” Hearing some shuffling from his side of the line,

“I’m on my way.”

When Jay got to your apartment it was nearing midnight. Without thinking, your hand took his and you led him to your room so that the boys wouldn’t wake up. Looking up at him,

“We need to talk.” He brought a hand up and rubbed the back of his neck nervously,

“I figured.”

“Sunoo and Jungwon called me eomma.” Jay’s eyes went wide,

“They what?”

“Minjoo, remember the kid with the nosey grandma?” you looked at him and saw him nod then continued, “He told the boys that living together makes you a family. Since me and Ni-ki lived with you guys that led them to the conclusion that I shouldn’t be called Noona, I’m their Eomma. Because Ni-ki and I don’t live with you anymore they thought we got divorced and that I chose Ni-ki over them. Jay, what do we do?” Silence washed over the room as Jay furrowed his eyebrows until finally,

“I lied,” Jay said. Looking at him confused you wanted to ask what had he lied about but he continued, “the night that your mom called. I lied and I’ve been regretting it ever since,” he finished. You racked your mind trying to remember what went on before your mom called and then you remembered. It was the conversation you two had about “like-liking” each other. He had lied then?

“W-what?” you can’t stop the stutter that escapes you as your mind tries to process that Jay lied to you.

“I lied.”

“That night, you asked me if I like-like you and I said yes. But I didn’t because what is this, high school?”

“Oh.” It came out just barely above a whisper out of millions of words to exist in the world, “oh” was the only thing you could bring yourself to say.

Was it a lie every time he called you love?

Was it a lie whenever he’d hold your hand and give it a reassuring squeeze?

Was it a lie the nights he’d run his hands through your hair and talk about how happy he was you were with him?

Had you been led on this entire time?

Then you couldn’t but think that maybe it was karma.

You didn’t think about how Sunoo and Jungwon would be affected with your presence there only for it to be gone after a few weeks.

You didn’t think about how to explain to Ni-ki the whole situation with K and instead downplayed it.

You didn’t think at all because you were too damn caught up in feeling.

Maybe it was your fault for hoping.

Jay’s next words are enough to get you out of your thoughts and back to reality. As they make themselves known to your ears, your eyes are near to tears.

“I lied because how the hell was I supposed to tell you that I love you?”

“Jay, you can’t be serious? Y-you can’t just love me!”

“I didn’t,” he sighed and brought his hand up to rub his forehead, “I didn’t say it just to hear it back from you. But we both know there’s no damn way we’ll ever go back to being normal or just friends because we never were in the first place.” Jay was right and you knew it. If anything you wanted to laugh a little at how foolish it was for the two of you to just somehow develop feelings so early on after meeting each other. Though neither of you had actually said the l-word out loud until Jay did just now, you had felt it in so many ways. It was exchanged in all the stolen glances and late-night cuddles. It was there the mornings you and Jay rushed to get the boys to school and the nights they’d plead for “just one more” bedtime story. It lingered on through the hopes you had for what one day could be your future like surprise visiting Jay’s office during lunchtime and bringing food using the excuse of, “I tried some new recipes and wanted you to taste it before I sold it,” or even one day having the privilege of being called Sunoo and Jungwon’s mom. But those were fleeting moments and hope wasn’t a plan, it was merely a direction.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” you muttered.

“Give us a chance.”

“What happens if we break up, Jay? What happens if Won and Sunoo want to stop by the bakery for some cupcakes but they can’t because you and I can no longer face each other? What happens when it’s not just you and I heartbroken, it’s the kids too? There are five hearts on the line here.”

“And I’ll do everything in my power to protect each and every one of them.”

“What happens if you can’t?” You felt Jay hold your hand and after missing his touch for so long, you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away.

“What happens when I can? What happens when this lasts just like I believe it will? What happens when,” you feel his thumb rub your ring finger and hear him take in a deep breath as he continues, “I put a ring on this hand and the two of us are facing each other at the altar? What happens when the five of us are taking trips to Brunei and Japan in the summer and all the other places we wanna explore together?” You wanted to believe Jay, wanted to one day fulfill all of the things that he talked about. But you couldn’t put this want into words and instead chose to answer him through action. Bringing a hand up to his shirt collar you pulled him closer to you and met his lips with yours. Unlike your first kiss with Jay or the brief ones you exchanged from time to time that were filled with passion, this one was filled with possessiveness. You could feel it in how his arms wrapped around you, holding you close to his chest as if he were scared that you’d fall into a black hole if he let go. You displayed it in how one hand of yours clung onto his shirt while the other cupped his face in hopes of keeping him here. Hope was never a plan, only a direction. But as you close your eyes breathing in Jay’s scent and reveling in the taste of him, you were desperately wishing this would be the right direction.

↬ a/n (2/2):

the end. JKJK this chapter isn’t the finale it’s the next one & i have no clue how i’m gonna wrap this story up-

❦ written by riri ( @enhykkul ) | next | series masterlist

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postwarlevi · 3 years

Text

Chaise

Content- You and Levi try to spend some time together during your busy days.

an- About 2500 words, don't know how. Is this okay? Don't feel like it's my best but I do like this idea of the chaise. :)

"Hey Captain!" You smile when you see Levi in the hall.

"Morning." He greets, stopping in front of you. "I'm sorry, I can't do breakfast, still behind with work." He's already grabbed a breakfast sandwich to eat in his office.

You frown. "Oh, that sucks." You've already rescheduled twice this week.

"Sorry." He says sincerely, kissing your cheek.

"It's not your fault." You reach for his hand and he gives yours a quick squeeze before saying he'll see you later, heading off.

You are always respectful and use his title in public even though you've been openly dating for a couple months now.

You'd spent the months before getting to know each other professionally and started gravitating towards one another outside work.

It started with things like small talk while eating in the mess hall, you two being the last ones to leave some days. There were times you didn't notice until after the fact that everyone else was gone.

It continued on the outside, sometimes with Levi offering to accompanying you on errands even on his off days, or seeking each other out during group events.

It was even noticeable to others how close you were getting before he finally decided to officially ask you out.

However now that you are exclusive it seems that lately you are actually seeing less of each other. You know it can't be helped but still miss one another.

"Hey!" Connie waves to you, patting the seat next to him. "Thought you were hanging with Captain this morning?" That is obviously not happening as you have a tray of food with you.

"Me too." You say, dejected.

"He bailed again?" Sasha asks.

Jean nudges her. "Sasha, he didn't bail." He knows not on purpose, at least.

"Work, you know."

"That thing that keeps keeping you apart." Sasha says matter-of-factly.

"Well, what are you doing today?" Connie asks.

"Nothing, for a while." You actually have some free time.

"Hang with us!" Sasha says excitedly.

"She doesn't want to hang with us!" Jean rolls his eyes.

"Yes I do." They're your friends.

"No, you want to hang with your boyfriend."

"Well, yeah, but that doesn't-" You get cut off.

"So go hang out with him!" Jean says, as if it's an option.

"He's working."

"He's doing stupid paperwork in his office. Just go sit with him." Jean is sure Levi won't mind you being there and then technically you'd be spending time together.

You think about it while eating and talking with the other three.

Soon they're off and Jean tells you again to go find Levi. He knows it's been hard for you two to find time together.

Now here you are, knocking on Levis office door, just wanting to see him and hoping he won't mind. You've been here before but not for personal reasons.

"Come in." He says automatically.

You step in and close the door behind you, waiting for him to look up.

"What do you..." Levi trails off when he sees who it is. "Is everything okay?" He's up out of his seat.

"Yeah, of course." You hurry and say. You aren't expecting his reaction but you almost smile at seeing the concern.

"So, what's going on?" He's confused to see you, as not that long ago he told you he was busy.

You feel a bit foolish and don't know what to say.

Levis features soften when he sees you struggle and he comes from behind his desk to lead you to sit with him on the chaise lounge. He had requested it a while back instead of a regular chair so he could cat nap during busy times.

"What's wrong?" He asks, hand on your back.

"I just, want to see you. I don't mean to be clingy. I know you're working but one of us is always working and I'm so very happy with were we're at but we haven't even really talked lately."

Now you're rambling on as he's trying to shush you.

"It's fine. You're not clingy. I miss you, too." Levi likes hearing that you want to be with him. He wants nothing more than to shove all the papers out the window and go sit outside with you.

You sigh and lean your head on his shoulder, making him smile. "I'm sorry I interrupted your work. Can I help with anything?" You offer, at least trying to be useful.

"No, no. I know you got up early, why don't you just rest? You can stay here. I don't mind." It's to the point that you're both so tired at the end of the day you barely see each other then, either. He knows you would still be sleeping if it wasn't for him.

"Is it okay? Can I get you anything at least?" You pull back to look at him and he brushes your cheek with his thumb.

"Of course it's okay. I have everything I need." He leaves a kiss on your forehead. How could this man that people were terrified of leave you with butterflies every time?

Levi goes back to his desk while you curl up on the lounge. It seems strange and it takes you half the morning to get comfortable.

Levi sees this but doesn't say anything. Every once in a while you catch each others eye, and you keep looking away, feeling like a distraction.

At some point you've fallen asleep and Levi is glad to see you're able to and eventually he gently shakes you awake.

"Hey, it's almost lunch time. Don't you have somewhere to be soon?" He asks when you open your eyes. He would've let you sleep otherwise.

"Oh!" You sit up suddenly, blinking a few times. "Yeah, sorry. Was I asleep?" You must have been more tired then you realized.

"You can sleep in here anytime." You were never a bother to him.

He pauses his work, wrist hurting from all the writing anyway, so he can walk with you to get a bite to eat.

After grabbing your trays you set them on a near table. You go to sit down but pause when Levi does not.

"I should go eat in my office. There's still so much to do."

"So I am a distraction?" You're partly playing.

"Never." He tells you, reaching out a hand to pat your head, making you smile at least.

"I can't stop thinking about what you said, and I know we haven't even had a decent conversation lately." He says.

"Oh, I didn't mean anything." You hadn't meant for that to come out.

"Well, I'm glad you said it, anyway. You're not wrong."

"I know it's just work."

"I hate that it's getting in our way. We have my favorites talks, I could do it for hours." In fact, you had, which was part of what you were missing. "When you're done, stop back by, okay? If you're not too tired. It's okay if it's late, I'm gonna try to get ahead on things."

If for now the only place you can meet is in the hallways or in his office then that's what you would take.

"I wouldn't miss it." You promise.

Before parting Levi pulls you in for a hug, and your arms wrap around him right there in the mess hall.

"You're the best type of distraction." This makes you chuckle.

You continue your day and it is late before you finish with everything and you take a quick shower before going to see if Levi is still active.

You knock and wait for an answer, pushing the door open and giving a light gasp.

Levi is sitting in his chair with a book, and you see he's been waiting for you.

The room is dark and both the lounge and desk have been pushed back so a blanket could be laid out on the floor with extra pillows set up. There's flowers at diagonal ends and tall candles across from them, a couple plates of petit fours in two spots and tea is set up for both of you on a tray in the middle.

"Hey." Levi greets, hoping you like the spontaneous late night date.

"Expecting someone?" You joke, but are very surprised and don't hide your smile.

He walks over and shuts the door behind you. "Actually, yes." Your eyes widen when his hand grips your neck and suddenly he's giving you your most tender kiss yet. Your fingers reach up to circle his wrist so it doesn't knock you off your feet.

Levi barely pulls away. "I've missed that."

You just hum, and Levi isn't sure if your cheeks are heating up or it's the candle light giving you this color, but you're attractive either way.

He sets you in your spot before sitting across from you, and you share tea and dessert until almost dawn.

The conversation is not littered with insignificant gossip but finally consists of thoughts and ideas, things you would like to do going forward, both in life and with each other. It's easy and neither of you hold back. You support each other, listen, ask questions, share any worries and even challenge one another, ending by making sure the other knows you fully accept them. This is exactly what you've both been wanting.

"To think, we were almost stuck in a rut already." You grin.

Levi smiles back. "Can't let that happen." This was now his absolute favorite night.

After cleaning up there's just enough time for maybe a couple hours sleep, one more sweet kiss before going to your rooms.

You're both still very busy, and you steal simple moments together in passing in crowded hallways or in the yard if Levi is going out on patrol. Even these small things confuse people, seeing Captain Levi being affectionate, but the ones that know you think it's pretty cute that you are happy together.

It's to the point that Levi has set up daily naptime for you on his chaise whenever you have some time. He wants you there and you want to be there. Reading, sleeping, just being near him. There's a blanket and extra pillow always ready, and he's even rearranged both the lounge and his desk to have you closer to him, making it easier for him to lean over for a quick kiss or shoulder rub.

It's true that you really do distract him when he notices how adorable you are when falling asleep or now that he takes a little longer lunch then before so he can talk with you. It's not as intimate as date night, but it's still nice. He assures you he works better now that you at least get to see each other some.

He manages a few minutes to doze off himself at times, leaning back in his chair and propping his feet up by yours. It's not the best position, but it does the trick. It makes your heart happy when you wake with his legs tangled with yours, trying not to disturb him with movement because you know he won't be asleep for long.

Some days you fall asleep waiting for Levi to come back from whatever assignment Erwin has given him or don't get any time at all together because Hange has requested you for longer than usual.

"It looks like we can get away tomorrow, for a little while at least." He tells you one day.

You groan. "I'm on duty with Sasha tomorrow."

This was getting almost laughable. Neither of you can believe your luck. You're starting to believe it'll be office interactions forever.

"We'll see about that." Levi has finally snapped and tells you to stay here while confronting Hange about your schedule, and Erwin about this own.

Though you both relish the part of your routine that gives you some quiet time together, he needs it to be outside this office.

"Erwin! I'm done, you understand me? No more damn paperwork, no patrol, you get someone else tomorrow." He's dead serious, bursting into the commanders office.

Erwin knows he's been giving his most trusted comrade a lot of tasks, but they need to be done and Levi always seems up to it.

"Okay Levi, that's fine, whatever you need." He now sees the toll it is taking and doesn't want it to get worse.

"Hange! Sasha is going to need another partner tomorrow!" Levi tells the one he's usually paired up with during missions after finding them.

"What? But, I need-" Hange doesn't get far.

"Better start looking!" He's already walking away.

You help Levi get the remaining paperwork in order and both call it an early night to prepare for a day out together.

The next morning you've slept a little later than usual since you have the whole day to yourselves. You put on the dress you had on the first time Levi asked you out. He brings you a box of your favorite cookies and gives you a good morning kiss.

"You look beautiful." This might be his favorite dress you own.

"You look pretty handsome yourself." You always think Levi looks quite dashing.

On your way to grab a quick breakfast you run into Jean.

"You owe me." He's offered to help Miche with anything Levi hasn't finished.

"I'll make it up to you." You give him a quick hug.

"Have fun today."

"Thanks! And, tell Connie thanks too, yeah?" You think Hange will regret putting him and Sasha together, but that's not your worry.

Levi nods to your friend as he puts his arm around you, leading you out.

Levi doesn't scare Jean as much as he used to now that you're with him.

"Kirstein!" Miche, however, is a different story.

Your day is full with a long trail walk and Levi rowing you around the lake in a kayak. He's set up outdoor picnic lunch and when you finish you lay together on a blanket and continue your intimate talk. A flock of ducks invades the area and you give them scraps before Levi starts shooing them away when there is no more and they start to make a mess. On the way back you stop for ice cream and watch a group of kids enjoying the park, getting on the swing set yourselves at one point.

Later, the pillow and blanket still stay on Levis office chaise for impromptu afternoon nap sessions, and he gets sad when you're too busy to stay. When you aren't too tired, there's more late night tea talks too.

Your outdoor adventures also continue, with your superiors making sure to give you days off together now.

a/n- This was not the original idea and I kept trying to fix it but kept straying further and just wanted an ending. Hopefully it turns out okay anyway and I'm just overthinking. Maybe we'll turn date day into a fic. Working on the original idea and something else I think will be A++

#levi fanfiction #attack on titan #captain levi #captain levi ackerman #levi ackerman #levi x reader #aot #levi x y/n #slight fluff #how to label non fluff #best friend jean #jean kirstein #jean kirschstein #levi fluff #is this fluff?#levi ackerman fluff #levi

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libraryofloveletters · 3 years

Text

Love To Loss

Eddie Diaz x Reader

Warnings: mentions of childbirth, disagreements

Category: Angst

Word Count: 3k

Author’s Note: this was a product of my insomnia so here we go, also yeah I don’t know why it ended so abruptly but yeah :)

pt.2: Loss to Love

Was love real ?

Was it worth it ?

All the pain and broken hearts and despair, was it all worth it if in the end, I got to come home to you ?

No idea where you were going, where you’d end up or who you’d end up being but you never let that stop you. That’s how you could yourself outside the fire station. You weren't looking for a job, in fact you were looking for someone, someone you had lost so many years ago. The station was quiet, not sure if you were allowed to be in here when no one else was, you paced the empty station.

The sound of a horn made you look up, there was a fire engine that was waiting to reverse in and you were in the way. The door opening and shutting, a man walked towards you. “Excuse me, you can’t be standing there” he says, pointing to the side of the station, you step out of the way, allowing the truck to reverse in. You watched as he instructed the driver, the back of his jacket read Nash. He wasn't who you were looking for but maybe he could help you. The fire engine began emptying, one by one they stepped out.

“Can I help you ?” the same man returned to you.

“Um, I think you can. What’s your name if you don’t mind me asking ?”

“Bobby Nash, you are ?” he stuck his hand out

“Y/n “ you shook his hand. He had a fatherly aura to him, the type that made you feel safe and comfortable, like you didn’t have to worry about anything. Bobby smiled at you, “what can I help you with, y/n?”

“I’m actually looking for a friend. I lost touch with him a while- actually more than a while, it's been years”

“I’d love to help but what makes you think I can ?”

“All I know is that he's a firefighter. I just thought on the off chance, maybe you’d be able to point me in the right direction”

“Who’s your friend ?” Bobby asked

“Edmundo Diaz, he goes by Eddie”

Bobby let out a laugh, your brows furrowed. Either there was good news and he knew him or there was bad news and Eddie had vanished or something horrible. You braced yourself for the answer. “Eddie’s one of ours. He's not in right now, his shift starts at..” Bobby glanced at the clock, “3, if you’d like to wait.”

“Yeah, that’d be great” you smiled. The two of you headed up the stairs, he introduced you to the team. Buck, who was more than happy to show you around, Chim who was also welcoming and super funny and Hen, who you instantly liked and knew you’d get along with. “Can I get you something to drink ? A cup of coffee? Water ?” Bobby rounded the counter, “water is fine, thank you” you took a seat on one of the stools.

“So y/n, how do you know Eddie ?” Buck leant forward, elbows on the counter and his attention on you. “We grew up together” you took a sip of the water. Buck’s head tilted slightly, almost like he didn’t believe you. His brows furrowed “c’mon, there has to be more to the story than just you growing up together”

There was, but were you ready to open that back up ? To tell Eddie’s friends all about why you lost touch to begin with ?

A dry chuckle left your throat, “sure you can handle the whole story ?” you smiled at him, he nodded eagerly. “Oh yeah, I'd love to know. Eddie isn't really one to talk about his past”

Good to know somethings didn’t change.

“Take a seat, you’re in for a story” you patted the chair beside you, Buck sat and once again, his attention back on you. You started from the beginning.

El Paso, 2008.

Hot summer days didn’t even begin to explain the type of weather you were having in Texas right now. The bedroom window was open and Eddie’s back was turned to you. He had been taking a nap when you arrived, the whole point of you coming over was to help him pack up his stuff. Laying beside him, your finger traced over his shoulder, moving down to his back. Tracing shapes and drawing your own little pictures against his skin. “Mhm, Shan- stop” he mumbled as he shifted in bed.

Your heart sunk in your chest.

“Not Shan” you teased, “just me” you sat up, your back resting against the headboard. Eddie’s eyes opened slightly, squinting from the sunlight in the room. “Oh hey” he rolled onto his side, his head now on your lap and his arm tossed over. You smiled at your best friend, if this was the last memory you have with him before he leaves, that's fine.

You’d keep this day in your mind forever, but just the good parts.

“Come on sleepyhead” your fingers running through his hair. He groaned, “5 more minutes”

“You’ve been sleeping all day, mom says you gotta get up” Eddie flips onto his back, head still on your lap as he looks up at the ceiling. The room is quiet for a few moments, the only noise coming from outside through the open window. You break the silence first, “do you really have to go ?” you ask him as he gets up. “You know I do,” he sighs as he looks back at you before he pulls his bag out of the closet.

“I don’t want you to leave” you begin taking some clothes from the closet, folding them and setting them on the bed. “And you think I want to leave ?” Eddie grumbles, you could hear the annoyance in his voice.

The two of you have had this conversation countless times, honestly it was the only truthful conversation the two of you have had in the last few weeks. There was an unspoken level of love between the two of you, far more than just the typical loving your best friend goes. It was more than that but Eddie was with Shannon and he says he loves her, so who were you to go and admit your feelings now. To ruin what he had with her. It would break your heart to break his so you never said anything. Instead, you stayed quiet, telling him that you’d miss him when he left and helped him pack. The rest of the afternoon was quiet, neither of you speaking, quiet exchanges as you shifted around the room and passed things to each other. Eddie sits on edge of the bed, watching as you fold a shirt, his hand wrapping around your wrist. Humming, you go on folding until Eddie tugs on your hand, nodding towards the spot beside him.

Sitting beside him, once again, the room is silent. So silence that you hear the thoughts in Eddie’s head. “Y/n, I-” his sentence is interrupted when Sophia knocks on his door, sticking her head in the room. “Ed, Shannon’s here to see you” she pulls the door in halfway before leaving the two of you in the room. Eddie looks at you, he opens his mouth to say something but you shake your head. “Go,” you breathe, “don’t keep her waiting” giving him a small smile. “Are you sure ?” he asks, his hand on your back. You hum, “I'll be out in a minute, I just have to call my parents” Eddie nods, leaving you in his room. You lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Letting out a sigh, all the possibilities running through your mind

What if you never get to see him again ? What if he comes home a different person ? What if he doesn’t come home at all ? You couldn't leave things unsaid, you couldn't let him leave without telling him out you really felt.

Walking into the living room, Eddie sat on the recliner, Shannon on his lap. “Oh y/n” she smiled, “I didn’t know you were here” you gave her a small smile back. “Yeah, came over to help him pack” she turned back to Eddie, “why didn’t you call me? I would have came over”

Seeing them together, you couldn't go tell him how you felt now. He was happy with Shannon, they were in love.

El Paso, 2011.

Over the last 3 years, Eddie had returned home a few times. Most of his visits home had been spent with family and Shannon, you’d see him for a few hours or if you happened to stop by his parents’ place for dinner. Within the last 3 years, Eddie had also proposed to Shannon, gotten married and had a baby on the way.

Eddie called you earlier to let you know that Shannon had given birth and he now has a son, Christoper. You of course promised to come by and see him and the baby and you made good on your promise.

“Hi, I'm here for uh Shannon” your fingers tapping against the nurses bay counter

“Last name hun ?” she handed you a visitor badge and a pen, “uh, Diaz, I think ? I’m not sure if she chang-” your sentence interrupted by your best friend calling for you. “Found them” you gave the nurse a smile before heading down the hall towards Eddie.

“Y/n!” his arms stretched out, waiting for you to hug him.

“Eddie! or should I say dad ?” you gave him a hug.

God it felt good to be back in his arms.

“Congratulations on the baby,” you smiled, “you're a baby yourself, I can't believe you have a kid” you teased, giving his face a little squeeze as the two of you walked in. Eddie’s arm was over your shoulder and your arm around his waist as the two of you entered the room, Shannon’s look was enough for Eddie to let go and take a step to the side. She gave you a smile, “nice of you to come by y/n”

“Of course, hope you don’t mind”

“Oh no, of course not! You’re Eddie’s best friend”

The baby began crying, “he’s got a pair of lungs on him huh ?” you chuckled, Eddie smiled as he picked up Christoper. Fatherhood suited Eddie, from the way he picked up Chris to just the way he looked at him, he’d go to the ends of the earth and back for his son. “Do you want to hold him?” Eddie stepped towards you, Chris had settled now. “Um, yeah” taking a seat in the chair, Eddie handed Chris off to you. You smiled at the little boy in your arms, you couldn't believe that your best friend, the guy you grew up with, the guy who was barely not a kid himself, had a kid.

“Hey lil man- oh you're so cute” you cooed as Chris yawned. Looking at Eddie who was now sat on the end of the bed, “The two of you have a beautiful little boy”

El Paso, 2017.

Eddie found himself on your doorstep with Christoper. Knocking on the door, you opened it. “Hey,” your brows furrowed, not that you minded the unexpected visit but you were confused. “Come in buddy” you helped Chris inside and Eddie followed the two of you inside.

“Did you two have dinner? I could order a pizza or I could make something ?”

“Can I have ice cream ?” Chris asked you, taking a seat on the couch. You glanced at Eddie who nodded. “Vanilla or chocolate bud ?”

“Both!” his enthusiasm made you chuckle, “coming up kiddo” you smiled at Chris who was already flipping through the channels. Eddie followed you into the kitchen, the two of you on autopilot, your movements in sync, not a word being spoken. Most of your memories with Eddie have been the quiet ones, not a word between two of you, just moving around together. Eddie got the bowl of the cupboard as you got the ice cream.

“What caused the visit ?” you asked, scooping the ice cream into the bowl. Eddie gave you a look, leaving you in the kitchen for a moment to give the ice cream to Christoper. You could hear the two of them talking, Chris telling his father how his favourite show was on tv and Eddie telling him try not to spill ice cream on himself and that he'd be in the kitchen.

Eddie returned, heading straight to the fridge to get a beer. “I take it dinner didn’t go well ?” you ask, sitting on the counter. Eddie let out a chuckle, “well wasn't even in the house tonight”

“What happened ?” taking the beer from him and taking a sip of it.

“They think it's a bad idea to move across the country with a kid, that Chris needed stability and apparently- they’re the only stability he’s ever had.” Eddie groaned. You understood his frustration, you didn’t have a kid but you get what it's like to have parents who are trying to contradict your life choices.

“And you're sure you want to do this ? Move to LA?”

Eddie’s brows furrowed, he looked at you. “What do you mean? Are you siding with them ?”

“No, of course not. I’m just asking if you're sure if you want to move”

“Of course I am. I need to get out of here, Chris needs a change, somewhere that doesn’t constantly remind him of his mother.” he sighed

“Eds, you know if you move you’ll be on your own. I don’t agree with your parents, you should be able to take Chris wherever you want but you won’t have the help you have here. You have your parents and me and Chris has his friends, are you sure you want to do this ?”

“Are you going to stop me ? Like you tried to stop me when I enlisted ?” he grumbled. If Chris wasn't in the house, you sure as hell would have cussed him for that. “How could you say that ? I didn’t try to stop you, I just didn’t want you to leave, which was the truth by the way.” you roll your eyes.

“Listen, I just came here for you to say bye to Chris because we're leaving tomorrow” Eddie begins walking out of the kitchen, you grab his hand. “What ? That’s it? We're going to leave things like this ? You being mad for no reason ?”

“You’re the one that doesn’t want me to move on” Eddie’s voice raised slightly

“Are you kidding me?! Did I try to stop you ?” your voice raises as well. Eddie pulls his hand from yours, Chris comes over and gives you a hug. “Bye y/n! see you soon!” he smiled at you, you looked down at the little boy, your arms wrapped around him. “See you soon kiddo” you lean down and kiss the top of his head.

You follow Eddie and Chris to the door, watching as Eddie helps Chris into the truck. Watching as he pulled out of the driveway and down the street.

----

“And that was the last time I saw him.” you sigh, Buck’s mouth hung open. “Are you serious ? He didn’t call or write or even text ?” he asked you, you shook your head. “Nope, not a word since then. He changed his number and that was that”

“Y/n?” the voice called, the voice you hadn’t heard in years. Glancing over your shoulder, there he was.

Eddie Diaz, your best friend.

He looked good, healthy. He hasn't changed besides for the shorter hair which he was pulling off rather well, it was a change from the fluffy hair he had the last time you saw him.

“What are you doing here ? How’d you find me?” Eddie asked, he was shocked to see you and you couldn't blame him. You were shocked to see him and you came looking for him.

“Uh- honestly I don’t know” you chuckled, “to which question ?” he looked over at you

“Both” you gave him a smile.

“Yeah, okay. You need to go, I have a shift” Eddie tells you. “Eddie, we don’t have any calls right now. They can stay, I don’t have a problem with it” Bobby tells him, Eddie nods. “I get that Cap, but I have a problem with it” Eddie turns to you. “You need to go” he tells you again, you didn’t want to fight with him, especially in front of his team so you nodded. Turning back towards the team, you give them a smile, “it was nice to meet all of you”

Heading down the stairs, the sound of footsteps behind you makes you stop, looking over your shoulder. Buck was behind you, “y/n wait!”

“Everything okay ?”

“Oh yeah, where are you staying ? I’ll talk to him, maybe he’ll change his mind”

Buck was sweet, his efforts were appreciated. “Do you have a pen or a piece of paper?” Buck pulled a pen out of his pocket, he couldn't find a piece of paper so he stuck his hand out for you to write on instead, you chuckled. Writing down the address and your number, you hand the pen back to Buck.

“That’s the address and my number. The number’s for Eddie or for you if he doesn’t want it” you smile at him, Buck’s cheeks got red. Poor guy was flustered which made you smile, at least your charms still worked on someone. “Seriously though, thank you Buck. It’s nice to know Eddie has people that care about him” Buck gives you a smile, watching as you watch out of the station.

Buck wasn’t the only one who watched you walk out, Eddie did too, from the balcony. The topic of you and your visit was dropped. No one asked any question or said a word. The day went on as a normal shift.

----

taglist: @advicefromnixxxx @keenmarvellover @venusrosepetal @mikaelson-emma @beth-winchester21 @averyhotchner @fernandaweasley2

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all-things-fic · 3 years

Text

Rekindled

A/N: Firstly, I want to say a massive thank you to everyone who nominated me as November Author of the Month. I wasn’t expecting that at all and it was a lovely surprise! Secondly, here is Rekindled. Hope you all enjoy it!

This was originally meant to be for @majorharry‘s 20k challenge, but I failed on that front. It’s a long one so grab yourself a brew / beverage of choice and get comfy!

I’m about to disappear again as I usually do and start working on my Christmas fic, as well as those Quarantine Harry updates.

Tonight had started out like any other Saturday evening.

You had been out with friends. Cosy little pub off a cobbled backstreet, in a secluded corner. Very British. Very cramped. All old wood and leather bound seats. The slight smell of stale beer in the air and plenty of chatter that sometimes had you shouting to ensure the friend sitting two people away from you was able to hear.

This was a pub that you frequented for quite a while now. A pub that made it so some in your friendship group could grab a proper ale, while others opted for more of a fruity alcoholic beverage. A real all rounder. Did a nice roast on Sunday - eat in or takeout, choice was yours - for a reasonable price by London’s standards.

The minute he had walked in, you had noticed him. You could recognise his hunched shoulders anywhere. Forever silently willing him to stand up straight and embrace the way his height made him tower over some of his friends. Rather than have him try and make himself smaller. Part of you believed it was to buy him time so he wouldn’t get noticed whenever he knew he was going to be in particular place for longer than an hour.

He had been joined by a male friend. Someone you also knew quite well. Someone who you had seen quite recently actually. An art showing over at Cob Gallery being the reason for your meeting which hadn’t happened too long ago. You remembered the invite being shoved through your letterbox, a far cry from when he used to shunt you a quick text and write your name at the bottom of the guest list using Sam’s kohl eyeliner on the evening of the event itself.

You’d taken the piss out of him that afternoon, a quick phone call telling him that he was “no longer the Tomo Campbell I know”.

That had been two weeks ago. So, you knew it would be rude of either you, or him, to not acknowledge the other. And you knew he would be the one to cave in.

And you were right.

Tomo’s friendly brown eyes had glanced at you one too many times, over Harry’s shoulder for him to not give you - or anyone else who may have made the meeting slightly awkward - away.

The continuous trailing of his gaze had in fact caused Harry to chuckle awkwardly, joking at how he wouldn’t let Sam know of his wandering eye as they shared a night on the town. The joke fell short though, as did his chuckle, when at the last glance over Harry twisted his body around to see what all the fuss was about as he leaned against the bar and let his eyes fall onto yours.

You broke his gaze, reaching forward for your balloon glass full of gin and pressed your face as far into it as possible. A feeling filled you that made you hope the hot flush you felt underneath your skin hadn’t started to give away your unnecessary panic.

See things with you and Harry hadn’t ended badly. In fact, it was more like a fizzle. A bit like the sweet that pops against your tongue. Sometimes you enjoyed it and other times it was unfulfilling, some would say annoying. The latter explained the ending.

No big fights. No fat, hot tears rolling down cheeks. No loss of voices from slanging matches and screaming until the early hours. It just... Ended.

That fizzle was what made it amicable. You both breaking it off to go and do your own thing. Neither openly keeping up to date with the other, but still absolutely aware of what was going on. In your case that was a lot easier, in his not so much. However, Harry somehow managed to master the art of leading questions without seeming too much of a beg with mutual friends.

As he looked on at you taking the longest sip from your drink, he had smiled awkwardly before he allowed his eyes to roam the scene of your group of friends and tried to analyse what met his gaze. A group of eight, men heavily outweighing the women with their five to your genders three.

He would definitely class himself a liar if he was asked about where his mind had gone, and he said that it hadn’t gone to queries around relationship statuses and potential partnerships with any of the men around the table.

He eyed them, all five of them. Definitely wasn’t the guy three people away, neither was it the guy sat diagonally opposite you. They were blonde, definitely not your type. Well, blondes hadn’t been your type the last time he had been between your legs.

His eyes had been zoned in on the guy that had his back facing him, he wasn’t sitting directly opposite you. Instead he was seated in the opposite seat, but one. Better positioning for someone who wanted to obtain a cheeky glance and still be inconspicuous to the group around him.

“I’m gonna have to go and say hello,” Tomo pulled Harry out of his trance, his eyes lifting up from the beer mat that he had been tapping agitatedly against the bar top once he’d turned away from the scene.

“‘S fine wi’me, mate,” Harry softly smiled, reaching for his drink and taking a large sip.

“Come an’ get it over with, H.”

Harry had quietly eyed Tomo after his open ended suggestion of joining him. His eyes slightly sceptical at the proposal but somehow his legs took over his decision making as he trudged behind his artist friend and got introduced to those faces he didn’t know and acknowledged the ones that he did.

Pulling up a pew at the table had been a lot easier for Harry than he had expected. Dragging the wooden stool to sit himself in between you and the guy to his right, who he now knew to be Conor and the person he really wanted to know the name of was Joe. Joe was a wanker- well, banker. Same difference, right?

Conversation wasn’t always smooth sailing. The larger group helped however. Also helped him get his moments with you and you with him. Moments that neither of you had known you needed before being sat with his knee brushing yours, due to how cramped your table had suddenly become.

And it was sweltering now. The bare knee of your ripped jeans, knocking against Harry’s bare knee from his ripped jeans as he edged himself closer to the table wanting to catch what the topic of conversation was down at the easily the “laddier” end of the table.

Harry had fit right in. Of course his demeanour changed with certain people. Those he had already been in the presence of those years previous were immediately hit with morbid delivery and sarcastic humour, while others were met with his sometimes hard to crack shell.

And like always as the night had gone on the crowd had tapered off. Some had decided to go onto a club, an offering your declined not wanting to spend the night with people rubbing up against you and feeling like one of the oldest people in the room.

Some of your friends had gone back to their other commitments, like Tomo who made it quite clear he didn’t want to miss his “curfew” that Sam had given him considering he was the one on swimming lesson duty in the morning.

That ended up leaving you and Harry. Surprisingly a pairing that you hadn’t expected to happen that evening and even more surprising, one that you weren’t particularly dreading.

You knew it had something to do with the gin, and definitely had something to do with the tequila.

Part of you was thankful for the less than responsible drinking habits you had taken that evening. It allowed you to remain calm as your ex-boyfriend sat across from you looking like time was on his side and aging was being kind to him.

It was definitely being kinder to him than it was to you, anyway.

Bastard.

Conversation had been a mixture of light and heavy. Harry showing you a series of different pictures he had taken on his travels as he jetset around the world with his album and his modelling contract (that he adamantly assured you wasn’t a modelling contract), and basically just his very healthy bank balance.

The heavy had been you bitching about the contract project you had been working on and asking him if he would be willing to potentially commit a serious crime with you against one of your colleagues. He’d quipped he probably wasn’t suitable but he was sure he knew a guy.

At one point, his eyes had dropped down to your pedicured toes in your black strappy heels. When he managed to drag his eyes away for your feet, and rested his chin on the inside heel of his palm, you knew he wanted to say something.

“‘M pretty sure we have matching pedis,” he groused, voice so low that if you hadn’t been watching his mouth you wouldn’t have caught a word of what he had just said.

Eyes flicking up to his green gaze, you saw the light shimmering through them. Clearly he was amused by your expression of shock and potential bemusement from his statement.

“Sod off,” you chided, pushing gently at his arm. “You’re joking.”

“‘M not darl-“ he cut himself off with a clear of his throat. “‘M not, an’ if yer lucky later I might take m’socks off to prove it an’all.”

“Not sure if I like the insinuation of there being a later.” You paused for a small amount of time, before adding, “Nor the confidence in how you said it.”

“God loves a trier and so did you, once.”

He eyed you from the corner of his vision, mouth wrapped around the lip of his glass as he knocked back what was left of the alcoholic contents inside.

You were sure he hadn’t meant to let that one slip but there was no way he was going to let his expression give him away and silently confirm with you that thought.

How had the two of you picked up as if you hadn’t missed a beat?

“You never did mind me keeping them on though, did yer?”

That was enough to break his gaze. To cause a silence you didn’t know how to fill. To suddenly make you feel incredibly parched as if you hadn’t been necking gin after gin, all evening.

“How yer getting ‘ome?”

His question cut through it all. His voice of concern, matching his watchful gaze as he looked up at you from the empty glass he had begun twirling on the mahogany wood.

“Was just gonna Uber it back.”

“‘M a fifteen minute walk from ‘ere, d’ya know tha’?”

“I do know that,” you acknowledged, eyes looking over at him and seeing the way his hair had begun to curl close to his temples from the way he perspired in the heat of the pub.

“‘Course you do. Done that walk a fair few times ain’t we?”

You hummed. The feeling of your lips lifting into a soft smile at the memories of the two of you walking hand in hand through the dark London streets. Harry with his head down, trying to look inconspicuous. Also, so he could watch his feet and try his best not to trip up over them.

The times he’d done that thing you loved. Where he would forgo holding your hand and instead walk slightly behind you with his arm wrapped around your shoulder and across the top of your chest. His lips heavy against your hair as he hid his face and chuckled breathily against the shell of your ear when he hadn’t been watching his feet and indeed, tripped. It was always inevitable.

“So wha’s another nigh’?”

And really what was another night? Other than potentially a messy morning.

Not before long you were wrapping the chain handle of your bag across your body and tottering out of the booth you had occupied all night.

Silently you had battled with yourself as to whether you should use the bathroom, but didn’t think you needed it considering how you hadn’t had the rush of pressure usually felt when you were really desperate to relieve yourself.

Shame the feeling didn’t last as you felt a huge gust of cold wind, thanks to London autumn air, washing over you.

With your arms folded around your body as you walked, you tried your best to shield yourself as the lights of passing cars hurt your tired eyes. Harry had been talking to you about all sorts of rubbish, filling in the gaps of dead air that weren’t taken up by the noise around your both.

“My shoes are going to be fucking ruined,” you grumbled, hearing the sound of muddy stones clacking and crunching underneath your heels.

Harry chuckled at your obvious disdain, keeping himself close to you in the dimly lit area. The stride to his walk was confident, a little more power behind it than unsteady. He had consumed drinks, but not enough that he didn’t realise how close both he and you were to his home.

As you walked, your eyes surveyed the area. A group of people were getting closer, a few hoods lifted making it hard for you to figure out their make up.

Before you could give yourself time to think, you unravelled your folded arms and reached down for Harry’s hand.

“Think we could cross here,” you spoke, a chatter to your voice both from the cold and this unusual anxious feeling. Your eyes darted over the road, left and right before you turned as the group approached you.

A boisterous boom of laughter left one of the groups mouth, causing you to sharply look back down the street. The grip of Harry’s hand against yours changed, his fingers taking your traditional hand hold to one of interlocking digits.

He felt moved by the way you appeared to still hold the desire to be protective over him.

“‘M alrigh’,” he pulled you to him, using his hand and causing you to turn your front and press into his side. “Jus’ let ‘em pass us.”

You silently nodded.

“‘S just a couple’a lads walking ‘ome after a night out,” he mumbled. “‘S all it is. You’re alright.”

This feeling felt foreign as you felt a tightness in your chest while you stood still with him in the middle of the street. You hadn’t expected to feel any sort of hesitation but you, like everyone else, had heard about the incident which had taken place with him. Virtually on the doorstep of his own home too.

Harry offering you comfort and reassurance just as quick as you were to do so for him, had you finding a weird source of strength and confidence. He welcomed the pressing of your forehead to his cheek, knowing if he tilted his head slightly his lips could brush so tenderly against your forehead, your temple. He would most likely get a smell of your shampoo, wondering if you still used the same as before.

The grip of his hand loosened against yours, his clammy palm, which felt soothingly warm, ran up against the long sleeve of your top. It curled around your neck, holding you securely to him, before he wrapped his arm around you.

Then he dropped his lips, them pressing to your temple and then lower to your cheekbone. He lingered, his breathing slightly quivered as the noise from the group got louder.

You lifted your head slightly, Harry rearing up just in time to ensure you didn’t headbutt him. His chin was soft as he looked down at you; it took the edge off. His eyes were manic as they moved, there was no mistaking it but everything else about him came off so calm.

He blew out his shaky sigh, causing you to dart your eyes over his and gently push up onto your tiptoes in your heels to softly kiss his lips. You knew he wasn’t expecting it, you didn’t even know what you were doing before you did it. Yet, you relaxed the minute he drew you even closer using the arm he had curled around your upper back to hold you close.

A wolf whistle caused you to smile against his lips, as he did the same. His gentle breathy laugh bouncing against your lips as he chanced it and pressed pecks against your lips in quick succession.

“Evening lads,” Harry nodded his head once he came up for air, making sure he got a good look of two of them and making sure they knew that he had. They cheered in praise at the two of you and your public display, threw out a couple of slightly lewd and alcohol fused comments at the scene. One even going as far as to take the red and white striped scarf from around his neck and whip it furiously above his head. “Someone’s ‘appy. The Arsenal must’ve ‘ad a win.”

You nodded as you eyed them, completely embarrassed by the way you had misread a group of loud football fans for violent thugs. You weren’t necessarily far wrong, but still.

Chattering teeth caused Harry to pull you close to him. “Let's get you in before you catch your death.”

***

Shoes had been left at the door.

The aching balls of your feet grateful for the cool wooden flooring and curling into the luxurious fabric of the rugs currently beneath them.

You’d watched as Harry toed off his obscenely dirty Vans, and walked ahead of you towards the back of the house. The place where his envious lounge and open plan kitchen could be found.

Harry’s home had this way of being welcoming, no matter how long it had been since you had last graced its presence. You assumed he’d made it this way for a reason, especially when that reason was his way of life. Leaving for long periods of time to then return again, to pick right up where he had left off.

And in many ways, that was how you felt about the current situation.

Handbag now discarded at your feet, you sat with your side resting against the back of Harry’s teal velvet couch. Surrounded by expensive scatter cushion after expensive scatter cushion, a collection he had amassed during your time apart.

He was playing the playlist. Not just any playlist, the playlist. The one he would always turn on, volume low, so it was more of a hum than anything else after you’d gotten back from a night on the tiles and fancied a night cap.

You didn’t need to zone in on the sounds. It so happened that you had heard the playlist so many times before that you didn’t need to have it blasting through the speakers to know the track list. It was burned into your brain and would be for a very long time.

The worst thing of all was that he knew. He just knew.

His lips had taken on this quirk. Slightly upturned more so on one side of his face than another as he stood at the kitchen island, feeling your eyes watch him as he put together his perfected cheese on toast supper.

It was an offer you couldn’t refuse. A large glass of Cabernet Sauvignon held loosely in your hand as you whispered along to the song playing in the background, mouth watering at the thought of the carby goodness Harry was preparing for you both under the grill of his oven.

The smell that filled your senses was delightful and exactly what you needed to soak up the alcohol you had previously consumed, never mind the alcohol you were about to.

“Do you want any brown sauce on yours, or ketchup?” You heard him talk louder as the tray he’d been cooking on clattered against his oven hob.

You stayed silent as you watched him, tea towel over his shoulder as he plated up your toast while his mouth barely sang along to the playlist. Gently lifting the bread off the grill before letting it drop quickly from his grip to the plate because of how hot it was.

He looked up at you from under his brow, hair fallen into a middle part around his face. His eyes enjoyed the way your legs had curled up beneath you as you rested your right cheek onto your hand and fondly watched him.

You seemed relaxed to him, albeit amused.

“Don’t even think about laughing at me when ‘m cooking for you.”

You smiled - cheese on toast was hardly cooking - pulling your glass of wine to your lips and taking a sip. “Don’t know why you don’t just get a knife and fork, you numpty.”

“Saves on the washing up doing it this way,” he winced as he dropped another slice to the second plate.

“And makes you lose your fingerprints in the process.

Harry shook his head as he pressed his thumb to his lips and licked the sore burn, before he gently blew against it. “Never did answer my question,” he reminded, wiping his hands on the towel thrown over his shoulder.

“Ketchup’s fine. Ta.”

Watching him reach across for the bottle of Heinz, you saw him squirt the sauce onto your plate and then saw him do the same to his own.

Seemingly happy with his work, he whipped the towel off his shoulder and to the side, before scooping up the two plates and striding over to you with ease.

“Voila,” he spoke, offering you the answer to your predicted hangover prayers, in cheese on toast form.

Reaching forward, you gently took the plate off his hands with both of yours and let your eyes drop down to the melted goodness. Keeping your eyes down you took in the decoration that Harry had added. He’d taken to drawing a smiley face onto the top of the cheese using the ketchup.

“You’re such a silly sod sometimes,” you spoke, lifting your eyes as you watched him drop down onto the couch next to you and get himself comfortable.

Legs up on the coffee table in front of him, almost horizontal with his plate gently resting atop his rounded stomach. Head tipped back and vision lazy, his lips tilted up into a crooked smile as he looked over at you.

“‘S it okay?”

“Looks it,” you replied, lifting up the toast and taking the biggest bite you could muster. Your nose came into contact with some sauce from your hunger-driven vigour. “Proof is in the tasting though, I s’pose,” you continued, mouth full and covered by your hand to avoid him seeing the chewed up contents.

You hummed as you closed your eyes, enjoying the taste of the simplistic home cooked food and melted goodness. So simple in taste, but so effective.

From where Harry lounged, he softly watched you. All relaxed, closed eyes, with a drop of tomato ketchup decorating the end of your nose.

Before you had the chance, and he couldn’t fight himself, Harry reached up to gently swipe at the sauce and remove it from your skin.

You opened your eyes, blinking over at him as he pressed his thumb between his lips and licked away the sauce he had retrieved. His eyes were mischievous as they glanced at you before he took a bite out of his own food and savoured the taste.

The groan that left his throat as he chewed was a sound familiar to you in other capacities, causing you to squeeze your legs together and forcefully take another bite of your own toast.

“Tell you what? If there’s one thing I do, ‘s make a bloody good cheese on toast.”

You smirked, amused by his boasting. “Nothing like a slice of conceited-ness as a platter cleanser, for afters.”

“Summat much more appealing for afters, don’t worry about tha’, darling. Got you sorted.”

***

Bellies full and content, you slipped further down onto Harry’s couch. The two of you finding yourself closer together ask you basked in the warmth of Harry’s home.

“You weren’t lying when you said your nails matched mine,” your voice was sleepy as you spoke, right foot hitting Harry’s left slightly as you brought up your earlier conversation at the pub.

He chuckled into your hair, watching you lift your foot and gently place it atop of his. He made a space for it, moving his right leg so that there was an even bigger gap between his feet to slot yours between.

“I think mine's a bit lighter to be honest,” you continued, eyes scrutinising his painted nails as much as they could from down the length of your body and his.

“That’s some bullshit,” Harry groused, rubbing his feet gently against yours to warm them, his voice causing his chest to vibrate against your head as it rested there “I even had it on m’ hands but I’ve been picking at it. Look.”

Harry obnoxiously held his hand in front of your vision, wiggling his fingers causing you to reach for his fingers and hold his hand still. Sure enough, he was true to his word, presenting you with chipped nail polish that was nothing more than the odd tiny dot against his clean nails.

You smirked when he pushed them slightly closer to your face than intended, “Alright, think you’ve proven your point.”

Hand knocked back he brought it forward again, “‘M not so sure, try again.”

The only response you could muster up was a giggle fit for a schoolgirl, Harry’s response to pull you even closer as he softly smiled.

A silence overtook you both, as you closed your eyes and let yourself become more intune with the music playing around you.

Your face was pressed into the side of his neck able to inhale his worn in aftershave and the soft startings of stubble down the side of his throat.

The silence was heavy and you knew exactly why. Listening to the base of the song across his speakers mixing with your staggered breathing and rising pulse.

You knew you shouldn’t but you couldn’t help yourself. It wasn’t like it needed attention drawn to it. Yet, the words were tumbling off your lips regardless.

“This song always makes me…you know.”

The words were mumbled but of course he caught them because he did know. But it was whether he wanted to go there.

The thought of talking about sex and the sex you had together in a coherent state wasn’t ideal. He wouldn’t have anything to blame his honesty on, if he wasn’t more inebriated than he currently found himself.

“Think we need some more wine for tha’,” he mumbled, lips pressed to your forehead as you hummed in agreement and felt him begin to shift to raise himself from the couch to retrieve a bottle.

***

More wine wasn’t a good idea and you knew it. From the way your tongue was much looser and your lips a lot more numb now.

The two of you had begun to dance on a weird ledge after he’d refilled your glass. The kind where you were openly flirting and backbiting against the other to try and see who could inflict the moment that had the two of you wincing.

“Who caught your eye while I was out of the picture?”

“Who didn’t catch yours?”

Harry was sitting on the couch, side pressed into the back of the couch. Leaning with his elbow and allowing his face to rest in the palm of his hand as he looked at you.

“Alright,” he stressed with a raise to his eyebrows and a quirk to his lips.

You were a bit flustered due to the way your back bite to him revealed how you were actually caught up in his business of seeing other people when you tried to act like you didn’t care.

Clearing his throat Harry adopted a soft tone to break you out of your fluster.

“There was one girl. Took her to dinner two times.”

You held his eyes with yours, watching the way he slowly smirked, “But you already know that don’t ya?”

Before you could stop yourself, you threw the throw cushion sitting to the right of you, at him.

“Watch the wine,” he said around a laugh, as he raised his wine glass into the air and pushed the cushion to the floor before it had a chance of creating him a cleaning catastrophe in the early hours.

“Hate you,” you mumbled, turning to your right to look at him from where you had reached forward to put your wine glass down to the table. Before you sat back you ran your index finger against the rim of your wine glass and tapped your nail gently against the base.

“‘s tha’ why you’re sat eating cheese on toast and drinking wine on my sofa at almost 2am,” he spoke against the rim of his glass, knocking back what was remaining inside.

“I’ve been coerced to be here,” you replied, watching him reach forward, raising his eyebrows at your false suggestion. When he sat back against the couch he was biting back his smile, his eyes shining and crinkles deeply set in the corners.

“Know where the door is,” he goaded, raising his eyebrows again, arm raising to point in the direction of his hallway. He waited for your response and in that time leaned forward towards the coffee table once more, grabbing the wine bottle and topping you up before moving onto refilling his own.

Your eyes dropped down to the rich red liquid as it sloshed against the clear glass. While his words were telling you to leave, his actions were doing the complete opposite.

Filling the silence he asked, “So, how many dinners am I competing with?”

“Three” you mumbled as you lifted your drink and took a sip for courage.

Harry’s head titled as he surveyed you, “Bloody hell you didn’t hang around!”

“I have no more cushions left,” you spoke to his cheeky comment with a light hearted threat of throwing something at him for his brazen clap back. “Only my wine.”

He smiled at your warning to throw it all over him before he drawled, “And we wouldn’t wanna waste tha’”

You hummed in agreement, freely taking yet another sip. Finally, something you agreed on.

Harry kept his eyes on you, waiting. The two of you almost seeing who would cave in first to try and dig for more information on the relations of the other while you were apart. What he really wanted to know was how many men he was competing against. Was it one man three times, or three separate men?

With all the questions buzzing around his head, he knew it would be him who would give in.

He was correct.

“Gonna let me ‘ave a look then? Pull ‘em up on your phone. ‘S only fair. Mine was taken out of my hands.”

His ambiguous comment alluded to the paparazzi pictures of him that had been splashed all over the tabloid online outlets, as well as every other social media platform known to man.

You didn’t hesitate, the alcohol in your bloodstream almost encouraged you as you reached for your bag at your feet and took out your phone. Said liquid confidence even helped in your handing over of the phone. “Pass codes the same,” you said, as Harry stared at you before he dropped his eyes down to the screen and tried the first code that came to his mind, your birthday.

The screen shook at him, causing a sheepish smile to pull up onto his lips as he thought about his second guess. He punched in the code of your mother’s birthday and unlocked the phone within a short five seconds.

You did notice the stall to his movements, clearly realising how part of this was wrong. It wasn’t his, or your, business to know everything in such detail.

Sensing his hesitancy also, you told him where to find a photograph if he was so desperate for a nose; on your private Instagram page. He took that as a small victory cause he knew you still had pictures of him on your profile that hadn’t been taken down.

You gave him names, knowing that it was an invasion of privacy for the men in question but equally not caring. His thumb was fast as it typed and spelt out the name into the search bar. Harry also not caring at how desperate he was to see his competition.

“Hold this for me,” he said, passing over his wine glass so that he could cup your phone in both his hands, his undivided attention firmly on his foe. You looked on as you saw him zoom in on the picture of guy number two, who had the chance of a third date.

He was silent as he looked and swiped and read comments. He didn’t know if this was the type of man he was expecting. Had he even been expecting anyone at all?

Running his eyes over the pictures he was greeted with what he could only describe to be your average City man. All overcoats and expensive suits.

Looks wise, he understood. Perfect five o’clock shadow. Seemed tall enough in photos. Obviously liked a gym session or two. However there was one thing about him that just looked so out of place-

Breaking the silence, he said, “Can’t even do a tie properly can he?”

“Neither can you,” you shot back.

“Don’t have to when you have someone willing to help.”

He looked at you from under his brow to see if you were going to correct him. When he realised you weren’t, he continued, “Never been tempted to fix his,” he asked, swiping across to look at another picture.

“He hasn’t worn a tie on a date yet,” you responded.

Harry zoned in on the use of the word yet.

“What’s he drive?” He asked randomly, continuing the swipe through the pictures with his right thumb.

“Range Rover Sport.”

“Probably on finance,” he spoke his comeback quickly, expressing his true feelings. It wasn’t going to be on finance but no one could blame him on wanting to throw a cheap shot in some way. “Doesn’t really seem the type to be blessed with the big dick energy. Overcompensating somehow.”

You found yourself biting down against your lips, trying to stifle a laugh. His pettiness has reared itself in less than ten minutes and you could see the way it wove through his features, with a quirk to his eyebrows and a scrunch of his nose. He was dismissive and you supposed he had every reason to be, you were after all sat on his couch.

“Why do you really think I’m giving you another try,” you smirked, nails tapping at your glass again.

He held your gaze, “You planning on testing me out, seeing if it still works?”

“Might do,” you took another sip of your drink. “Depends if I have the energy.”

“Why do you think I gave you summat to eat?”

You breathed out a laugh as your mouth fell, right hand reaching up to slap him across the top of his arm. He seemed pleased with himself as he locked your phone and loosely held it out to you.

“‘S enough of looking at tha’,'' he hummed, licking gently at his lips. “How did you meet him?”

Again a breathy laugh left your lips as you stared at him, incredulously. Harry’s eyes easily held yours as he waited on your answer.

“You aren’t in the least bit interested,” you licked your lips, the taste coating them slightly bitter from the lingering wine residue. “Don’t know why you’re trying to make it seem as if you are.”

“Humour me, darling,” he mused, lips softly lifting. “Or humour him, whichever you prefer.”

And you know you shouldn’t be doing this, laughing at the expense of someone else in such a way. You saw the larger swallow from Harry too and you knew he was feeling the same.

However, here you were, giving eyes to a man that you didn’t think would get to see you in such a way again.

“And why would I want to do that?”

“Cause at least one of us would make it worth your while.”

You felt your breathing quicken as you held Harry’s eyes. He did nothing to deter you from holding his gaze.

“You have to stop being so nice,” he added. “If he isn't doing anything for you, that’s okay.”

Reaching forward you rid your hands of your phone, letting it slide against his coffee table. “And do you not think you slightly have an unfair advantage?”

“I think,” he paused, his eyes looking at you. “I think we had something good.”

“Had being the operative word-“

“And I think we could have something good again. In fact I know we could.”

You stalled at his words. The confidence behind them. It was admirable how he was shooting his shot. Especially given you knew how inside he was most likely quaking with nerves.

“Tell him no.”

His words made you chest feel tight, his hand reaching across the distance between the two of you on the sofa. His palm facing up, you slowly lifted your hands to sit in his.

No sooner had your skin come in contact, Harry clasped his hand around yours and softly stroked his thumb to the back of it. He dipped down, lips meeting your knuckles before he tugged at you so softly you almost felt you had imagined it.

He wanted you closer, the arms length distance now too much as he started to show himself to you. His pettiness and his affection, they strangely won you over. Stoked something within you that had you edging further towards him.

Hand unlatching from yours, he lifted his left arm and wrapped it loosely around the back of your neck. With little persuasion you dropped your forehead against his jaw again.

Harry’s swallow was audible as his fingertips softly stroked at your shoulder. His breath softly fanned against the skin of your temple, his lips turning to press the faintest kiss to your hairline.

“Tell him to piss off.”

You chuckled, breathily, head knocking itself back to look up at him. Eyes light with a sense of joyous infatuation at the moment you found yourself in.

Harry shifted, his right hand quickly discarding both your wine glasses before it placed itself against your hot cheek. The coolness of his slender fingers soothing and welcomed.

“Tell him no,” he breathed, as his lips hovered close to yours, as he tilted your face upwards to meet his.

With your eyes closed you felt a sense of guilt, for some unknown reason. It wasn’t like you were committed to anyone outside of the situation that you found yourself in, but you felt slightly wrong for what you were doing. Harry sensed it, able to read the downturn of your lips for what it was. He nudged his nose gently against yours, allowing his eyes to take their time in admiring your expressions and waited on the unnecessary internal conflict to ease.

“Want me to tell him?” He asked, leaving breathy and wet kisses down your cheek, and along your jawline as you tilted your head back. “‘S not a problem.”

Your mind was swimming as you found yourself sinking back into the couch beneath you. Harry’s voice melting you as he continued talking, “Really get him to take the hint that you’re not interested.”

He kept his face buried against the underside of your chin as it pointed up at the ceiling, hands tracing down your arms and cupping at your hands to press them into his hair as he sucked at your skin.

“I know what you’re doing,” you hummed, scratching at the back of his head, enjoying the feel of his soft locks beneath your touch.

Harry deeply groaned as you pulled at the strands, “What’s that?”

“Trying to have your way with me when I’m under the influence,” you joked, quirk to your lips. “Always was that little bit more placid that way.”

You felt the way his lips moved from underneath your chin, finding the corner of your mouth, before he pulled up to look at you. He eyed you, all heavy lidded and messy lips. “You’re not tha’ pissed are ya?”

“No.”

“Then I’m definitely more than jus’ trying.” He reached for your face, lifting your chin and angling it how he wanted. “‘M taking, ‘m begging,” he spoke confidently, unashamed.

His lips were dominant as they engulfed yours, a groan leaving your throat as your kiss was messy from the offset. His lips puckered and pulled, drawing you closer to him as he breathed through his nose and gave you his tongue.

Your chest was heaving as he skimmed his lips against your face, mouth finding the sensitive skin of your neck once more as you bit down on your bottom lip and tried not to laugh.

“Charming of you to want your way with me on your couch.”

Harry chuckled against your neck, face lifting shortly to look at you. His pupils were blown out already, as his skin took on more of a rosy flush from the beginnings of his exertion. That or you’d embarrassed him.

“Sorry, I should’ve asked,” he mused. ”Where’d you want it?”

Legs curled gently around the backs of his thigh, still covered by the denim of his jeans, you pressed against them with the heel of your foot.

“Where’d you think?”

He knew exactly where. You were a simple creature. You liked simple things. Sex was always fun to have all over the house, but depending on the level of intimacy you craved, depended on where you were willing to open your legs.

Tonight was a weird one for you to decide upon. The fumble on the couch, while it was exciting and showed you Harry’s desperation to have you once more, it would be over before you knew it. Also it would most likely leave you with a horrible crick in your neck as your keepsake.

You didn’t want that. You wanted your keepsake to be the ache in your thighs from how he had taken you in different positions because while a bed was boring for some, it allowed you the option to roll around for as long as your bodies permitted. Bending in all different shapes and ways that sometimes neither of you would’ve been able to imagine.

He broke you from your thoughts once more, hand gently finding your bum and tapping against it. “Up yer get,” he spoke, starting to push himself up knowing you wanted to go upstairs.

With your legs curled around his, Harry couldn’t go too far. He chuckled with amusement as he dropped his eyes down to his legs and yours, before looking back up. He didn’t need to even ask as he looked at you, leaning forward he inhaled through his nose as he kissed sweetly at your lips and lifted you.

A smile pulled onto your face, causing difficulty to continue kissing. “Stop tha’,” he mouthed against the corner of your lips, as he hoisted your legs. “‘M trying to take charge here.”

“Why do that when you’re still so good at taking direction?” The lilt to your voice was one of glee, you had easily gotten your own way.

Tousling your hair and flicking it away, behind your shoulders, you rolled your lips into your mouth as you felt the slight bruising from his expressions of desire. He was watching you as you looked at him, doe-eyes sparkling with intrigue and adoration.

“Give us a kiss,” his deep voice ignited a warm fire within, as he still tried to assert himself while he walked the two of you away from his open plan lounge and closer to his kitchen.

You continued to eye him, enjoying the way he wasn’t going to back down. You just needed to stand your ground just as much.

As your bum hit the work surface, your hands traced over Harry’s cheeks, cupping his face before moving to grip at the counter. Head tilted slightly, he looked down the bridge of his nose at you through hooded, dark eyes.

He stepped in between your wide open legs and enjoyed the closeness that they brought when you brought them together to keep him to you. Heavy breathing filled the silent air as you both traced each other's features with touch and sight. Taste could wait, but it would get here soon enough.

He gulped as he swallowed.

“Please.”

At first it was gritty. His voice tight and throat dry. His lips forming the word confidently.

Again he swallowed. “Please, gimme a kiss. You kiss me, like before.”

The victorious hum that left his lips was one that you would let slide, as his hands ran down the length of your arms and reached up to wrap around your own. He placed them back onto his face, mouth breaking away as he left open mouthed kisses to your left palm, nose nudging at the end of your long sleeve top where he inhaled your worn away perfume.

He could feel your pulse as he curled his fingers around your wrist. It was strong and rhythmic, inviting to his primal desire which caused him to gently nip at your flesh with his front teeth.

Turning his eyes back to yours, you silently asked him for another kiss with your soft and slow blinking gaze, knowing he wanted to get just as reacquainted as you did.

He obliged, pressing closer to the counter and letting his lips meet yours quickly. His quick change in motion caused you to reach behind you to steady yourself, your hand coming into contact with an item you couldn’t identify until you gasped and pulled away thanks to the smashing sound.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you whispered quickly, trying to catch your breath. Harry’s eyes turned to take a look at one of the daintier wine glasses he had pulled down from the rack earlier but chose not to use. The item now lay broken against the flooring of his kitchen.

“Really should tidy up before we go up,” he groaned, mouth pressed into the side of your cheek as you surveyed the mess made on his coffee table over the other side of the room. He reluctantly pulled away from you, walking the short distance to the broken glass.

“Watch yourself,” you said, meaning his bare feet around the glass.

Crouching down, Harry started to collate the bigger shards of glass together, stacking them up against the tiles of his kitchen floor. As you peered down, still sitting on his kitchen island, he looked up at you.

“Couldn’t do me a favour? Go an’ grab the dustpan and brush.”

You blinked. Was he alluding that he kept everything in the same place? Given how he’d asked so vaguely, knowing you would understand.

Softly, he smiled up at you and chuckled around his words, “Same place as last time, yes.”

Taking a while to kick into action, you slowly slid off the work surface and let your feet softly pad over to the other side of the kitchen. The third cupboard from the right, on the lower half of the kitchen was where Harry kept items that Anne had brought him. You know, the things that Mum’s knew would be important but somehow never crossed their children’s minds. Regardless of whether their children were grown adults.

Sure enough, there sat the same blue dustpan and brush. The item was as vibrant as the last time you had seen it, in similar fashion. Leaning down you grabbed at it, shutting the cupboard gently using your foot and walked back to Harry.

You handed it off and heard his whispered thanks, as you rested the side of your hip against his cupboards.

“Don’t think I’ve had this out since the last time you so elegantly broke one of my favourite glasses.”

You knew he was messing with you but that didn’t stop the blush of embarrassment, hitting your skin, and filling you with warmth. “I’ll replace it.”

“‘M jokin’, ‘s fine. Only a bit o’ glass-“

His sentence was cut short as the two of you jumped, the sound of a phone filling Harry’s space.

“‘S not mine,” he jutted his lips out, as he pushed himself up from his crouched position and carefully walked towards the bin with his broken glass.

You turned towards the noise that was your phone and how it blared from Harry’s coffee table, where you had placed it earlier. Walking the short distance, you reached for it and was met with a familiar male name.

Biting your bottom lip, you swiped across the phone and pressed it to your ear. His soothing voice greeted you, slightly worried in tone as he breathed a sigh of relief.

Letting your feet take you to the kitchen island again, you responded telling him you were fine and how sorry you were that you hadn’t let him know you had gotten home okay.

From over the other side of the room, you watched as Harry quirked a brow at you while he picked up the empty bottle of wine and wine stained glasses from the coffee table in his lounge.

You weren’t home. You were far from home.

“Who is it?” He mouthed as he got closer, glasses clinking as he placed them onto the work surface of the kitchen island, after discarding the bottle of wine as loudly as possible into the bin.

You pulled the phone away from your ear showing him the name that he had earlier been typing into your Instagram search bar. Under the dim light you could see the slight squint to his eyes and the way his nostrils flared.

He darted his eyes from the phone screen and back to yours, watching as you put the phone back to your ear.

“Yeah I had a great night, ‘m just tired.”

Harry dropped his head, a smirk forming on his lips. You were far from tired and this was nothing more than a moodkill. With his hands pressed to the worktop, he looked up at you as you stood diagonally opposite him.

Eyes glancing down to your left hand that was spread against the work surface, Harry reached for it. The tips of his fingers running gently between the divots of your knuckles, before his hand slipped underneath your fingers and tugged you towards him.

You slowly obliged him, as your eyes moved to his face. “Come to bed,” he mouthed, watching as your top teeth worried at your bottom lip. His right hand moved to slip around to your lower back as you arched, pulling your chest away from his trying to keep his mouth away from the phone.

“Come to bed wi’me,” his voice was a whisper now, not quite loud enough for the person on the other end of the line to hear but a next step up from how he was previously just mouthing his words to you.

As he tried to distract you, he dipped in and out of your conversation which was the most monotonous thing he had ever found himself eavesdropping into.

With your chest open to him, he nosed his way along your skin, head nudging at your hand that held the phone. His lips pulled into a smile as you faked a yawn, clearly trying to politely give the man on the other end a hint that you were done.

Still he heard the drone of this guy, who was now even repeating things he had previously said to try and keep you on the line with him. You weren’t interested though, too preoccupied by the way that Harry was once again pressing kissing to the skin that he could get too.

Before you knew what was happening Harry had clearly had enough.

“We’re tired, pal. Take the hint,” he spoke into the phone that still rested against your ear, his lips finding the bottom end of the receiver. “‘S time for bed.”

You had to pull the handset away from your ear, not wanting to hear his reaction from the sound of Harry's voice. You blindly ended the call, keeping your eyes on your ex-boyfriend, whose green-eyed monster had made itself known.

He helped guide your phone down to his marble countertop and watched as the phone was brought to life with a call. The same name appearing on your screen as he tried to call you back.

Harry didn’t take long to decline the call, quickly turning the phone to silent and placing it face up once he’d finished. Again, it lit to life, this time buzzing against his work surface rather than omitting a jarring noise into the silence the two of you shared.

“‘S a bit creepy in’t it?”

His question lingered as his eyes moved between the phone and you, watching another call ring out. “If he rings again, ‘m gonna answer.”

As expected the phone lit up for the fourth time. However, before Harry could reach for the item you pushed it, causing it to slide against the work surface and away, just enough that it was out of his reach.

Harry clenched his jaw, his muscle pulsing as he looked at you. “‘S he always like tha’?”

“He’s just realised the girl he was dating is in the company of some other bloke.”

“Dating or taken on dates? There’s a difference,” he raised his eyebrows. “‘S a huge difference an’all.”

You stared at him, watching him lower his body to lean against the counter with his elbows and wipe down his face in frustration. Unwarranted at that.

“I don’t like ‘im.”

“Of course you don’t,” you hummed.

Sharply he turned his neck to look at you, “‘s tha’ supposed to mean?”

“That I agree.”

“No,” he frowned. “It was how you said it.”

“I can handle myself.”

“I’m not-“ he cut himself off, sigh heavy. “I’m not saying you can’t.”

He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, thinking of how to navigate his way out of this.

“‘M saying that you don’t always have to,” he dropped his voice, slowly standing and letting his itching hands reach for you.

With his hand resting against your ribs, you stayed still. He didn’t guide you anywhere, he waited. Waited on your next move. When he felt your stoic figure relax underneath his touch, his tight chest expanded. Maybe he could talk himself out of this one.

“When we tried this before,” he softly spoke, pulling his hand away from you to motion between you both, “We shared the load, started to become a team.”

“Yeah and look where that got us.”

He felt his lips twitch from your negative deadpan. “‘S got you back ‘ere again tonight so ‘m doing summat right.”

Shaking your head at him, he rolled his lips into his mouth trying to fight his pleased smile. He dropped his eyes to the counter below him as he mumbled his sorry.

“If you were to ask me, I think we did alrigh’.”

“You would say that.”’

You watched as he jutted out his lips, before running his hand down his mouth and facial hair. He leaned on his palm, his eyes taking you in and wishing you would speak.

“My Mum talks about you all the fucking time,”

“Say tha’ like it’s a bad thing.”

“It is when you’re trying to get over someone,” you glanced at him from the corner of your vision.

“Now why would you want to do that?”

“You didn’t seem to have a problem with it,” you were scornful. He shook his head, clearly amused.

“I’ve still got half of your belongings upstairs, if you wan’ ‘em. You have no idea.”

You squinted your eyes at him. Trying to read him. “Appearances aren’t always what they seem. Don’t know how many more times I’ll have to tell you about papers and social media, ‘s all a load of bollocks.”

Standing once more, Harry rolled his shoulders and brushed his hair off his face. Once his hands were at the back of his head, he linked his fingers and turned to look at you. Head resting back on his hands, the two of you held each other’s eyes. Him from the corner of his vision, you dead on. No words passed between the two of you.

“‘M going to bed,” he sighed, dropping his arms and tapping gently against the kitchen counter twice before pushing away.

His body screamed dejected as he walked away, his shoulders sagged and head down as he walked through his home, towards the second floor and his bedroom.

Swallowing thickly, you rolled your lips into your mouth again before you spoke his name. The way you called for him caused Harry to stop his movement, back continuing to face you as he silently waited for your next move after you voiced your plea.

You let your feet take you to him, abandoning your phone on the kitchen island and trying your hardest to ignore the white hot anxiety that overtook your being.

Close enough to touch now, you looked on at your shaking fingers as they gently reached out for him. Your feet took you as close as they could, arm wrapping gently around his abdomen and feeling it quiver with a nervous exhale.

Lips against the linen of his shirt collar as you pushed onto your tiptoes, hoping that the wine stain upon them wouldn’t attach itself to the cream garment. His head dropped forward, exposing the curvature of his neck to you as his hand gently slid over yours and he rested his fingers between the splayed gaps of your own.

Gentle squeeze. Reassuring reminder.

Take your time.

“Come show me this stuff.”

***

There was always something exhilarating about someone leading you upstairs. The different ways in which it could play out. Playful with a swing to your hands, sensual with a gentle tug to keep your close.

The feel of Harry’s hand in yours was always wanted. Every stroke of his thumb against your knuckles or the back of your hand, a reminder of the affection you had been missing.

His eyes looking over his shoulder at you as he came to the bottom step of the second set of stairs. A silent reminder that you could back out at any time.

The floorboards still creaked in the same place as always and part of you hated that you didn’t need him to lead you down the hallway because you knew exactly where his room was.

However, taking yourself to bed never possessed the same majestic undertone as when someone else did.

You were now sitting with your legs tucked underneath you at the end of his bed, rummaging through the box of things that he had neatly packed together for you so they were ready for you to have back if you ever came to collect them.

Every so often you would pull something out to him, showing it and either sharing a story or laughing. As you looked up at him now, showing a tequila shot glass and shaking it suggestively at him, he looked every inch ready to sleep.

Harry was stretched out straight on his bed, his linen shirt still covering his upper body but the buttons were all undone, revealing his chest and stomach to you. Tattoos on display to your eyes that you hadn’t seen for what felt like forever.

The top button of his jeans had been undone as he got comfortable and his ankles were crossed, with his right leg over his left. His eyes were heavily lidded and blinking slower and slower each time you presented him with a new item.

Double chin forming from the way his head was propped up, he spoke deeply in acknowledgement of the glass with the less than elegant design on the side.

“Remember getting through a whole bottle of tequila with that,” he drawled, hands clasping on top of his stomach. “Don’t know why we didn’t just pass the bottle between the two of us.”

“That’s because someone insisted that if we were gonna do it, we had to do it proper.”

“Haven’t got a clue what you’re talking about.”

“That’s convenient,” you deadpanned knowing that there was probably some truth behind his words given how inebriated you had both been at the time.

Thoughts aside you continued looking into the box to see a worn slogan shirt peering up at you. Pushing aside the half empty bottle of perfume that was once your favourite, you silently admired the tee that you knew didn’t belong to you.

A soft smile pulled itself onto your lips. Sometimes nice boy Harry was unbearable. He’d taken to folding the shirt that you adored as if it were on a shelf in a posh(er) department store than usual. Think more John Lewis than Debenhams.

Slowly you pulled the item from the box and enjoyed the feel of the soft cotton against your fingers. You loved that the shirt’s collar was slightly saggy, a sign of how loved it had been.

Your voice left your throat as more of a dreamy sigh than you imagined. “I loved this shirt,” you spoke as you held it up in front of your face, eyes tracing over the blue slogan of ‘Enjoy health. Eat your honey.” and the cheeky looking bee that was drawn within the circle.

Who didn’t love an innuendo?

Without a second thought, you let the item fall into your lap, hands quickly turning to pull at your black v-neck top and reveal your matching black lace bra underneath.

Harry slapped his hand against his eyes, quickly covering them. The sound caused you to look up at him. “Don’t be so daft, Harry,” you spoke, fighting your smile by rolling your lips into your mouth as you saw him splinter his fingers and look at you through the gap he had created.

“Could give a guy a little warning,” he groaned, continuing to peek over at you.

Shaking your head, you enjoyed the way the cool fabric fell down the skin of your stomach as you covered yourself once more. You knew if you were to turn your head slightly and press your nose to the collar, a mixture of your perfume and his cologne would remain.

You fought the urge however, as you pulled your hair out from underneath the collar and quickly pushed your hand up the back of the shirt to undo your bra.

It was almost second nature for you to remove your underwear to get comfy within your comfier clothes and the sagging of your bra cups away from boobs was always a delightful feeling at the end of any night. Drunk or otherwise.

You pulled at the straps of your bra from underneath the sleeves of your shirt, before diving your hand under the hemline and dropping the item less than gracefully into the box that held your other items.

“Think you’re forgetting who that actually belongs to,” he drawled, head resting against the pillows beneath him now and watching you rummage once more.

“I think you gave up the privilege of wearing this item the minute you dropped it inside this box all neatly folded like you worked a shift at Topshop rather than Manderville’s every Saturday.”

He cackled, head tilted back as he enjoyed your self-righteous indignation and absolute pisstake.

“All Saints was more my thing.”

“That’s because you’re fake indie.”

He was amused as he shook his head over at you with a silent smile. “And being fake indie is exactly why you decided to live on the edge of Camden and not in the thick of Camden itself.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t once tell me that you’d want to raise a family in Hampstead.”

You felt your face heat up at the way he’d completely called your bluff. “That was when I was young and naive.”

“As opposed to us now? Being old and decrepit.”

Again you were silent as you started to put the items around you back into the worn cardboard box.

“Why’re still fuckin’ around wi’that box?”

Your eyes snapped up at him as he kept your eyes. “The only thing you should be fuckin’ around with, is me.”

Raising your eyebrows, you said, “Now who sounds young and naive. Anyway, what happened to you just taking.”

Harry was silent as he took in your words, his body slowly rising from his lounged position and he sat up to approach you. You dropped your gaze down his chest and to his stomach, enjoying the slight rolls of his abdomen as he adopted his new seated position.

His eyes were focused as your gaze found his once more. A soft determination. This sheen to his skin in the lamp lighting of his bedroom, causing him to naturally glow.

Once he was secure in his upright position, closer to you, Harry snatched at the box with one hand and picked it up to sit it down on the floor at his side of the bed.

He then swooped suddenly, hand scooping around your waist and drawing you to him with squealed laughter. His lips fell against your cheek as he shushed you, aiding you as you moved position to get comfortable.

“Remember the first time I had you in this bed?” He asked, chest to chest with you. Your mouth was agape with your quickened breathing, as his lips puckered slightly at the corner of your mouth and he gently leant his nose to yours.

You both watched each other through heavy eyelids, breathing mixed in rising anticipation. A soft nudge of his nose as he asked, “Do yer?”

A nod was all you could muster.

“Was good sex,” he husked, hoodied eyes holding yours. “Was always good sex.”

You hummed in agreement. Feeling the way your nerve endings came alight as you pushed your fingers through the hair at his temple.

Heat flowed through your body, circling in your stomach as his words echoed.

“Still gonna be good sex, ‘f you’ll let me. Better even.”

The faintest smile pulled at your lips, causing your eyes to glisten.

“Eh,” he nudged. “You gonna let me, or tell me otherwise?”

“Personally, think you’re just talking a good game.”

“You know ‘m fucking not.”

Harry pulled you to him, his mouth claiming yours easily. So hungry and intense. Lips that were desperate to show you what you had been missing. Lips that were desperate to wipe away the touch of another, asking you what the fuck you were even thinking in trying it with some other bloke?

Gone was the brushing of lips, faint and fleeting. Harry’s liquid confidence started to come into play as his lips formed into a smile when he gave you his tongue and hummed as he did.

Harry cupped your face as he slanted his mouth over yours, soft moans leaving your throat as you kept him close.

Lips were coaxing, as he groaned between quiet wet smacking sounds that otherwise would have had you cringing.

Now he had you however, how could he part? Your smell was intoxicating to him, as was the touch of your fingers in his hair and nails gently scratching at his scalp. His mewls were catlike when he pressed his wet lips to your skin.

Breathing now more like a pant, it puffed against your elongated neck as he pulled away and made a beeline for your clavicle and then chest, movements slower. Chestnut hair tickled the underside of your chin and caused the faintest of smiles to ghost across your lips from the way it felt.

His nose nudged the collar of his shirt that sat against your body enticingly. The smell of your perfume everywhere to him.

Now lower down you found his forehead was pressed to your clavicle as you felt his teeth playfully tug the cotton between them. A puff of air left your nose as you bit down onto your bottom lip to try and suppressed your giggle.

“Smells like us,” he hummed, mouth breathing hot and heavy against the shirt that sat directly above your nipples. “‘S tha’ good.”

Your only response was the tipping back of your head, fingers carding heavily through the hair at the nape of his neck.

Had he always been this skilful? Vocal, sure. But it never quite hit you like it was doing tonight. His deep hums and moans, his hands spreading so confidently across your back to hold you to him.

And when you cradled the back of his head and pressed that was when you found yourself moaning his name deep from the back of your throat as his mouth gently sucked at your hardened nipples through his beloved shirt.

His name left your lips again, this time in the softest gasp as a small frown hit your eyebrows and your hips started to faintly roll atop his. He moaned gratefully into your chest, his tongue wetting the fabric of his shirt so it clung to your raised nipple.

As he nosed along the cotton, he found your second nipple, his hand quick to raise to the first and squeeze at your breast that had not been forgotten. His touch wanted - you and it - to know that.

This is what you’d been missing so long. A sense of feeling you had buried somewhere else. Blocking out the way he managed to make you feel more alive than anyone else had.

With cheeks hollowed as he suckled, you whispered, “That’s nice.”

His hum of agreement vibrated through your chest as he kept his face pressed against you.

Everything about him became deliberate and slow, his hands now moving underneath your shirt and fingertips gently grazing at soft, warm skin prickling goosebumps in their wake.

Sliding lower his left hand palmed against the back pocket of your jeans, fingers catching against the thick and sewed seams. Hand pressed heavy to aid the soft rock to your hips, tapping lightly to the top of your bum.

“‘M gonna take these off,” he hummed, looking up at you from where his face was still pressed into your chest.

“Are you?”

It felt as if the room spun before you could even comprehend what was happening, a squealed laugh leaving your lips next as your arms tightened around Harry’s shoulders. He lightly lifted and rolled you, your back landing against his mattress gently as your laughter tapered off.

His lips were sponging kisses to your jawline and cheeks, as you felt the backs of his fingers slide gingerly against the exposed skin of your stomach. Slowly you felt the fabric pull away and fall slack against your stomach when he managed to twist the button with one hand, as your arms fell against the mattress and into the pillows that were slightly pressed higher against the headboard.

“Took you long enough,” you goaded, a smirk lacing your lips as you felt Harry pull away and watched him kneel sitting back with his feet against his bum.

His face was a picture, clearly amused, as he swiftly pulled his own shirt away and threw it behind him. Hands slowly trailed back up to the waistband of your jeans as he lightly hovered over you.

His head found your stomach, the soft skin on show from where the tee had ridden up. Soft puckered kiss, he lifted his head and pressed his chin into your stomach.

“Last chance,” he voiced, soft. While he wasn’t willing to forget about it all, regardless of the ache he had between his own legs, you had to be in this with him as much as he was.

Blinking down at him, you moved your hand up to gently push through his hair and without words raised your hips off the bed enough for him to get the message.

The smile that pulled at his lips, was so triumphant you had to knock your head back to stop yourself from chastising him for being full of himself.

Your hands however couldn’t help themselves as they joined Harry while he pulled your trousers down your legs and watched goosebumps rise upon your skin from their exposure to the cold.

Now he was at the end of the bed, you dropped your head to the side to look at him. The way he looked as he carelessly threw your item of clothing over to the chair that sat in the corner of his room.

His eyes slowly came back to you, as he followed his own motion and saw the faintest of smiles dance across your features.

“What yer thinking?”

You were thinking a lot of things. Mainly more so how mystical he looked in the soft glow of the London evening that was creeping in through the haphazard way he had drawn his curtains. Your smile only deepend at how it was more so from the street lamp lights than any full moon, but he didn’t have to know that.

Of course he would want to though, because your smile was more so on show now thanks to the thought in your mind.

Harry shook his head as he fought his own smile, dropping his face slightly to watch his hands as he fiddled with his own jeans.

“Whatever’s got you smiling, ‘s doing nothing for my ego as ‘m undressing m’self in front of yer.”

You knew he wouldn’t be able to help himself, which is why you lightly laughed.

He spoke your name in a pretend warning.

“‘S doin’ everythin’ for you,” you spoke sultry, “Don’t even try it. Got a girl half naked and waiting for you.”

At those words he looked up at you, through his curtains of thick waves that had fallen into his line of vision.

You breathed deeply, eyes unable to move from his captivating stare even though you knew he was practically naked from the waist down. You knew from the way his upper body moved as he pushed down his jeans; you knew from the sound of the clothes bunching around his ankles.

Now you found yourself wondering again. Wondering if he still kept his condoms where he had done last time. Sometimes in the bedside table drawer, other times hidden in the top of his wardrobe.

Were you going to see him twist and turn, get him showing you how white his bum cheeks were in comparison to his infuriatingly evenly tanned thighs and legs? Or was he going to hold your eyes, dip his knee into the bottom of his bed and crawl up you once more so he could grab one from the bedside table.

“Not just any girl,” he finally replied, his knee dipping into the bottom of the bed. You supposed that answered your question.

“No?”

A small shake of his head.

“The girl.”

Harry chuckled, giving himself away as he watched the way you relaxed deeper into the mattress as he found your legs easy to accommodate him.

“I’ve never been the anything,” you emphasised.

With his lips against your cheek, you felt his puffed breath as he responded, “Yea, you fuckin’ have.”

You kept him to you with a hand against the back of his head, fingers woven through his hand unable to not enjoy the feel of his silky locks beneath your touch. Reacquainting yourself with everything that you thought you had lost.

His lips unlatched from yours with a soft, wet sound as your eyes rolled back into your head when he started to trail kisses down your cheek, down your neck once more.

There was no mistaking how greedy they were, his chin knocking yours and his teeth scraping against your skin as he held your jaw with a steady hand in hope of keeping you still beneath him.

Legs moved from where they were open, softly brushing at his sides so your calves wrapped and touched the back of his thighs. The feel of his hairs against your smooth legs becoming a weirdly exhilarating reminder of your closeness once more.

Head buried in your chest, you felt him locate the wet patch against the cotton from his previous play and quickly enclose his mouth once more. Warm hands pushed beneath your body and the mattress, sliding underneath and raising your chest further to his face.

Your mouth fell open as you felt the pressure of his lips and tongue, enclosed around your nipple again, grow stronger. With a hand in his hair once more, you wondered if he was going to take you out of this shirt, or fuck you in it.

As the pressure lessened, with your head pressed into the bed beneath you, you heard the rustling of his nose and face against the shirt. He rubbed his face against you, inhaling and moving his hands closer to your lower back.

Hands in contact with your underwear, you felt him smooth over the fabric of your bum. He pulled at your thigh, before pushing at your knees with a gentle but assured touch.

“If I remember correctly,” he started, voice muffled as his face was still pressed to your breast. “This leg needs to go here, like this. Mm?”

Clammy hand splayed against your thigh, you felt him direct your other leg, “And this one needs to be a bit lower, otherwise you get cramp.”

There was a pause, and you could feel the way his lips were twitching atop the cotton of the tee. Matching yours at the flippant comment that was only funny because it was true.

Humming again, he added, “Keep ‘em like this. Keep me here like this.”

Doing what he asked, you bit back a moan when he moved to fit his palm over you through your underwear. The warmth from it radiating through you, making your throb and giving you the urge to fold your legs in on it.

Tentative strokes were what you received, at first. Up and down, coaxing you and drawing you into him. Then his fingers became more confident, certain in their touch, moving with a sense of familiarity you had been missing.

“‘S this okay?”

His voice was soft, hard to hear over your breathing and the blood starting to rush around your ears. You found yourself nodding, however. Giving him the permission he desired, making his next movement the easiest.

His fingers hooked, slipped underneath the thin piece of fabric and the quiet groan that left his lips only had you moving your legs that bit higher.

“‘S it nice.”

Harry was enticing. From his oozing velvety voice to his careful, barely there touch. You were lost to him. Finding it hard to breath as your body begged for you to be actually - really - touched.

With a heavy swallow, you felt your eyes fall shut with your slow, deep breath and let your head turn to the side, finding the edge of a propped up pillow to shield your torture expression.

“Don’t hide from me,” his voice lazily made itself known, as he looked up from under his brow at you and caused your eyes to drop as you looked down your body. He descended lower and lower, hands pushing up at his tee against your stomach, to reveal your bare skin to him.

Spongy kisses, encased by stubble, pressed into your skin. His fingers never once let up in their tease, touch opening you up for him. The soft twitch of your legs when his fingers landed on your clit, sliding over it.

“Relax for me,” he hummed. “You good… s’it feel good?”

Confident nod, you swallowed again. Tongue pushing between your lips to lick away the dryness.

“Okay wi’this?”

Another nod.

The press of his fingers onto your clit caused you to breathe deeply. A hiss of ‘yes’ as you exhaled.

“Tell me if it’s changed.”

And you knew what he meant. His desire to know if you still liked things the same as before important to him.

You couldn’t help the low and long moan that left your throat. Neither could you stop the lift of your hips from the bed as you twisted your body as he stroked at your clit.

Heavenly ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ were pulled from you. Encased by ‘yeses’ of various pitches. Harry’s nose was buried into the skin of your ribs, having managed to push the tee you still wore to underneath your boobs and in the process expose more of your skin to him.

His mouth sucked against your skin on the inside of your left boob, just at the underside, and from the groan he omitted you knew you were going to be left with an almighty love bite.

“Oh,” you sighed, as you felt his tongue lave at the mark, again nudging upwards and taking the shirt with him. Tongue over your exposed nipple, alert from the cold and due to your aroused state.

Your lower half was warm, fire stoked while he stroked at your clit. A sharply exhaled ‘fuck’ from you had him smiling around your nipple. The last time you had found yourself getting this wet - soaked and slick, the kind that meant your walls were smooth and would pull him right in - had been with him.

A laugh left you from underneath your breath, one not noticed by Harry who was too lost in the feel of you beneath him. The thought of anyone being able to get you this way from an act so virginal was unknown. Of course, he was the exception. Of course.

“Hear tha’?”

So lazy he couldn’t even ask you properly.

“Nice an’ wet.”

The slip of his fingers moving lower had you humming delightfully, legs falling open a bit more as his fingers danced at your entrance. The contrast of the heel of his palm to your clit was welcomed, warm but dry in comparison to heavily wet fingers.

You could feel yourself pulsing as his palm gently rubbed you again, nervous energy had you teetering. Fingers at your center. You wanted them, you wanted him in anyway he would give you himself.

Quiet, apart from staggered breathing, he smiled to himself when he felt your walls give way to him and his two fingers with ease. Your moan was voracious, a clear need apparent as the edges of it died against your dry throat.

He knew it was his name. He had heard it like that before. Plenty of times. Said in the same tone too. Sprinkled with incoherent desire.

“‘S that want you wanted?” He found himself asking. “Should’a just said.”

And you would’ve if you could. But instead your head was tossed back and your toes were curling into the sheets.

These were the moments he has missed. When he really thought about your time apart. The moments where the two of you were so lost in each other that the nonsense that slipped from each of your lips was met with no judgement but rather embraced.

Reacquainting after time apart. Rekindling your desires and unspoken love for one another.

Eyes on your face, he couldn’t quite see you how he would’ve liked but he did nothing to change it. His own want went out of the window in favour of you getting and keeping yours.

The smell of you was everywhere as he dropped his eyes and pushed his face against your boobs once more. A man quite willing to suffocate in his need to want more.

He could feel your falling apart under his experienced touch, relentless and unfleeting now. His fingers curled and with each ‘come hither’ your breathy moans only drove him on.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell,” he spoke through gritted teeth, the tension in his arm burning at his wrist. Mutters of desperate mantras - ‘come on, come on’ - mouthed to your skin.

And you could - like this - you could. But did you want to?

While you were feverishly hot, everywhere, for him - body unable to stop rolling with each pull of his fingers - your head knocked back and softly shook from side to side.

“No,” you moaned lightly, “Not yet… Harry.”

“No?”

His questioning had you dropping your eyes, head still lolled to the side with pouted expression.

Mind still slightly hazy, you stared at him. He was still in his underwear, very obviously hard. Head nudging slightly, you breathed, “Come here.”

Empty. That’s how you felt when he slowly moved his fingers and left you clenching around nothing but the cold air of his bedroom.

His right hand was against your skin, middle and third finger slightly hovering away as they were coated in you and he selfishly didn’t want to lose that to your flesh but rather his tongue.

Legs welcomed him, smoothing around the backs of his thighs once before lifting and using your feet to try to push his underwear down.

Harry let out a noise you hadn’t heard in a while, a mix between a grunt and chuckle. The kind that created an aggravated fire within you.

“‘S not gonna work,” he mumbled, eyes closing as he felt the warmth of you against his clothes bulge. Your one thigh lifting to encourage him to roll onto his back.

And he did, taking him with you. A mess of awkward limbs tangling. With shaky knees you climbed over him, eyes down and taking in his underwear.

A pair of black briefs fit him just right, hugged him and holding his straining cock.

Your eyes slowly rose up his body, his chest lifting and falling with heavy breathing as his chin softened while he looked down at you with his fingers just about leaving his mouth from where he’d cleaned your arousal off of them.

You felt his eyes peering at you as you lowered down, nose first teasing against the waistband of his underwear before you found your lips pressed kisses to the tops of his thighs. Enjoying a little bit too much the feel of his leg hair against your nose and lips.

Hand lifted, it blindly sought out the waistline of his pants and allowed fingers to slip inside to pull down the material.

Just about past his thighs, you locked eyes with Harry. His soft blinking gaze and content smile had you grinning impishly, knowing in the faintly lit room he would most likely be able to make out the blush upon your skin.

You’d saw but more arousingly heard his cock move as the briefs which encased it gave way and it fell back, heavy, against Harry’s lower abdomen. And that was where it lay, next to the hair in Harry’s stomach and down to his pubic region.

Small crawl to get you better situated, you flipped some of your hair over to your opposite shoulder and felt him touch the back of your head with a barely there graze as you licked up the underside of his cock.

“Shit, darling,” he breathed, voice blissful above you but filled with a rawness only brought on by sexual vulnerability.

Looking up his body, you could see the grin that had made its way to his lips. His teeth quick to bite it away, with little to no avail.

You licked again, mouth moving lower to delicately suck one of his balls into your mouth.

The groan that left him was husky, right from the back of his throat. The kind that gave you shivers from how unguarded it was. His legs widened against the bed, your eyes diverted to his thighs from his movement. How thick they looked as they flattened beneath you on his bed.

Wrapping your hand around him, you ran your thumb over the head of his cock. Up and down. Slowly taking in every movement and what it did to him. Just like you remembered.

“‘S this right?” You asked, hand and mouth working him and his balls over. Looking up once more you watched him hum, with the smallest of nods. His lips were rolled into his mouth, dimples prominent as they dipped into his cheeks.

His nostrils flared as he breathed and his hair had started to fall across his forehead from how he’d been dipping his head back into the pillows beneath him.

“Squeeze me ‘ere,” he reminded you, voice holding a slight tremble, his hand encasing yours and encouraging a tighter hold as he leisurely dragged both his and your hand up and down his cock. “Slowly- tha’s it.”

You pulsed between your thighs as you watched him moving your hand with his, each downward pull showing his glistening head more and more. Heavy swallow, you knew he was holding back and you would be lying if you said the visual wasn’t encouraging you to take him in your mouth properly.

Almost like second nature you did exactly that. Licking at your lips as you lifted up and wrapped your lips around his exposed tip. When his hand faltered from the pleased sound you voiced now you were on him, you were able to slip from under his grip and felt him continue to wank as you suckled so teasingly.

With each bob of your head, you felt his hand pull away more, as your mouth and jaw stretched around his hard cock.

“Yea’,” he groused, deeply when his hand fell to give way to your mouth and move to shift your curtaining hair. Harry rolled his hips up gently, eager to get the last bit of him down your throat. Old him would’ve voiced it too, but he felt this moment didn’t call for that.

He softly fucked your face, if there were such a thing. The nudges of his cock warming through your core as the throbbing sensation that had been lingering between your legs only grew.

Harry fought against himself to make you gag, teetering on it with each raise of his hips as his glassy eyes barely focused on you. Too engrossed in the filth he wished to voice.

“God, look at you,” he dropped his head back. Ironic really. Unable to continue looking as he said it. It was tame in comparison to how he wanted to speak.

So, he laughed. Breathy at first, before becoming a little bit louder. You lips twitching into a smile as you lifted off of him and gently tugged before letting it fall and bounce proudly erect. Kissing up his stomach and placing your knees either side of his hips.

He had almost forgotten you weren’t completely naked until you sat on top of him covered up. Eyes too taken by your face to care, as you blinked down at him with a doe-eyed expression that made him want to lap you up in any way he could have you.

His right hand pulled you down to him, lips greedy against yours as his left hand found the top of your bum cheek, trying to blindly find his cock and guide him into you regardless of knowing it wouldn’t work.

“Like this?” He asked as his lips hovered at the corner of yours, wanting to know if you wanted it this way. “How’d you wan’ it?”

“On top.”

“Me?”

Your voices were breathy as you spoke around the faintest of kisses. Both eager to start from the feel of you both so close to each other.

The faintest of nods was given to him and it was all it took for him to roll the both of you, further continuing to ruckle up the bedsheet beneath you.

“Do I need one?”

And you knew you should be responsible and not shake your head no at his ambiguous mention of protection. All rushed and breathy, chest heavy as he exhaled in a nervous rush, but you just wanted him. Bare and in you.

Underwear was quickly removed before you’re resumed your position.

He watched you softly as you shook your head no, Harry pushing the shirt up under your boobs, your arms wrapping around his neck as he continued to kiss at your jaw and cheeks.

“Planning on staying over?”

Feeling him shift up and jar his head back, just enough to get a good look at you, you stared at him not knowing how to respond. It was practically morning now, so hadn’t you already?

His hands moved your legs as you thought, his one holding you where he needed you to be.

“Don’t think ‘bout it for too long, darling,” he joked nudging his nose gently against you as he watched the way your lips went against you, smiling at his words.

“Let me know how long we can go for,” he added, gently taking his cock that was sprung and bobbing between you into his hand. He looked down and tapped it to your wetness, sliding it down with a press of his fingers to the topside of his shiny cock to line himself up.

“Gonna let me have you all night.”

Your breathing picked up, chest trembling slightly at how much more of a statement those words sounded than a question. An amorous glance looked back at him, slow blinking and head lolled gently to the side.

“Eh? Sleep in the mornin’?”

A deep and shaky breath had your mouth falling, your eyes slowly shutting as you felt him push in. You were right when you thought about how easily you would take him earlier. Body crying out for a good fuck.

“Fuck me,” he groaned deeply, head dropping forward and hair hanging down. You reached for him, wanting to see his face.

Harry obliged you, his face turning to find your wrist and pressing a chaste kiss to your skin. “Missed havin’ you like this,” he breathed. Quick bite down to his bottom lips, nostrils flared.

“‘S tight.”

He knew the remark was boyish. Unable to stop himself as he eased out and rolled his hips back into yours. Each push and pull giving you a little more of him. Deep frown etched between his eyebrows as his breath caught in his throat, mouth slightly fallen and lips starting to dry.

“Haven’t-“ your voice croaked, head dipping into the pillow beneath you.

Haven’t slept with anyone in a while. Haven’t slept with anyone since you last slept with him. Haven’t had the desire to.

He hummed in agreement as the two of you felt the words fall away from you both. Harry’s concentration firmly on each roll of his hips as he gave you more of him. The rhythm he set being one that you could only describe as intimate. Familiar.

He was warm on top of you as he alternated between grinding dips of his hips, thrusts that were tantalisingly slow, making your hips roll up to meet him and causing him to smile at how you wanted it.

He had to voice it. “You want it, don’t you?”

He only knew so easily because he did too. He had done the minute he fucked the whole thing up and let you slip away with his dwindling text messages in response and shorter phone calls every time you had a chance.

Your hand glided to the back of his head, the other down to his bum as you encouraged him to give you his entire weight. He was close but you want him closer. Close was never close enough.

Was that enough to answer his question of wanting it, wanting him?

Squeezing at his bum, you fought the urge you had to give him a slap, too caught up into the heavy groan that moulded into your face as he pressed his nose to your skin.

“You make me good,” he lowly gruffed against your cheek, his hand trailing down to take yours from his bum.

Fingers laced and pressed against the mattress upon which you lay, you tilted your head back and pressed it harder into the pillow beneath you. You keened and mewled beneath him, breathy noises of indecipherable words as the head of his cock bumps your spot inside.

“You make me feel good.”

You were taken by his gasp, how desperate he sounded as he hiked your leg higher, wanting you to spread yourself open for him. His hips don’t give you much choice other than to play along as he moved with an assiduity you had never found with any other man.

He allowed you to feel every inch of him going in, pulling out and going back in. Teasing himself and you with a slow and measured pace that had you passionately panting underneath him.

“No one gets it like this.”

Looking at him with heavy-lidded vision, you wove your fingers through his hair and tugged. His face contorted blissfully, breath catching in his throat before it heaved out of his mouth as his chest forced him to exhale.

You were nodding, agreeing with him. No one had you like this. Him like this. It like this. Sweltering and sticky.

Teeth gritted, he grunted as he thrusts grew heavier now with more conviction behind their motion.

“Deeper,” you gasped, “Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

His pelvis was heavy against yours now, making it difficult for you to lift and roll your hips to meet his thrusts. And he knew you loved it like this, he still knew that.

Legs practically pushed to your chest, held there by your own fruition as they rocked and rubbed up against his fleshy sides cradling him to you, feet bobbing in the air with toes curled.

The sensual roll he was giving you caused the grip of your fingers to go slack against his head. You could feel him smiling against your skin, as your breath hitched in your throat and your hand squeezed at his.

“Touch my arse,” he moaned, sliding his hand out of yours and breathing in quick succession until your hand met his bum cheek once more.

This time you didn’t falter, gently tapping and feeling the tension to his thrusts as he clenched. Quick squeeze and nails digging in creating crescent moons against his white bits. “Yeah darlin’, know I like it like tha’.”

Head turned to the side, you messily brought your mouths together. He chuckled as you broke away, probably from the words he’d just spoken. Laughter dying down into a hum as your feet wrapped around his lower back.

His lips were dry as they met yours, too caught up in how his mouth hung open, to make them wet and inviting, as his need to breathe was evident.

“No ones like you,” you admitted. “No one comes close.”

He revelled in the whine of your last word, how it had your back arching and allowed him to wind his hand around you to lift your bum slightly to encourage your hips to continue meeting his.

He knew you were tired, the breathy whines that were spoken up towards the ceiling were not lost on him. And he knew he had to keep going, to give it to you how you deserved. To make up for the lost time, to say sorry for ‘being a bit of a dick’. A lot of a dick.

When you knocked your head back, your eyes were unable to concentrate and he was mesmerised by the visual of complete, unadulterated lust that was present on your features. Hair sticking to your temples from your exertion and face void of any concern.

“Make me come,” you whispered your plea, feeling him bury his face into your neck and drop himself down flush to you. With one hand woven through the hair on the back of his head, your other stayed at him bum feeling the grind of his groin against yours as he lay on you.

He was sensual now, if not a little tired himself, as his breathing left his mouth in hot pants against the side of your neck. You could feel yourself beginning to flush from the heaviness of his body as you both rocked from the force of his motions and the fullness of him above you.

With rustling sheets and sounds of grunts, your cooed ‘oh’ left you, as you felt the motion of Harry’s hips pickup pace. Your fingers clawed into his hair, lifting the strands and softly pulling as your body ached in the most delectable way.

Harry groaned around a smile, muffled by your skin as he could feel his stomach start to tighten; his orgasm impending. He tried to hold off as much as he could, eager to watch you come undone first in the best way he could as he was rendered speechless and breathless alongside it.

Instead you were both a mess of tangled limbs, with rocking motions so vigorous that you felt yourself moving up the bed. A symphony of noises - slapping skin, feeble grunts and creaking bed.

Harry wheezed, knowing he sounded pathetic by too caught up to care. Through hooded eyes you caught sight of his mouth falling agape before he ground his teeth together as his thrusts heavily rolled into you, nudging your entire body.

Your mouth fell as his name unashamedly fell from your lips. Demandingly, but in a juxtaposed whisper, you told him to give it to you.

“I am,” he whispered. “Oh, I am, darling- Mmhm.“

You whimpered, feeling each breath get harder to produce as your abdomen began to tighten and your chest heave. “I’m coming,” you hastily whispered. Voice nothing more than a pant.

Looking up at Harry, you watched his bottom lip become captive to his teeth, as his nostrils flared while he breathed. His thrusts were at their heaviest now, wetter and sloppier but getting the job done.

“Gonna- oh.”

This was the loudest you’d been in a while. Moans long and dying off into wordless bliss as your muscles tensed and your orgasm rolled through you. Leaving you as nothing more than cloudy thoughts, and a warm, floaty body.

You felt the bounce of his laugh against his skin from his breath, as he continued to move above you and moulded you into nothing but a high-pitched mess as he wouldn’t stop.

Body falling slightly slack, relaxed and pliant to the bed, you felt Harry move his face into your neck and nudge his hips once more. His ruts were less rhythmic, rough grunts and indecipherable slurring only matching his pending euphoria.

With his final, heavily thrust, his hips slammed to a stop against yours. Your breathing stuttered as you held him to you, hands moving over his shuddering shoulders and ears listening to his muffled groans which vibrated through you.

“Yea’,” he drawled. Low from the back of his throat. “Yes.”

***

Sunday mornings were made to be slow. To bask in the stillness. To hear nothing but the blood that was rushing through your ears.

It was far too bright to be considered early morning. Not with the winter months looming.

You stretched your limbs, listening for the crack of your back as your hands reached for the t-shirt that was still awkwardly bunched up to your armpits.

Rolling your body slightly you reached for the hem and pulled it down, letting your head fall to the side to see an empty bed which allowed a sense of regret to creep into your morning thoughts. Blinking slowly, you almost missed the sound of the bedroom door gently bouncing against the wall.

A hushed, “bollocks” spat out for the other side of the wood causing your lips to twitch upwards in a smile.

A pause came to Harry’s movements as he caught your eye in nothing more than a pair of fresh underwear and mismatched mugs in each hand.

“Stayed the night,” he hummed, eyes softly shining. A soft smile pulled onto your lips as he left a cup of tea closer to your side of the bed and you watched him start to blow gently at the lip of his own mug. With his mouth about to take a sip, he asked, “Fancy staying another?”

#harry styles #harry styles smut #rekindled fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry fic #Harry x reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you

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the-goddess-of-mischief-writing · 3 years

Text

New York High Rise {3}

Series summary; What does Steve think of what just happened? Well, not only will his next client get to know but also a dear friend of the mob boss.

Pairing: mob!Steve x mob!reader

Rating: Mature

CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Chapter 3/5

Word; 6.2k

Warnings; canon type violence, death, anything you could expect from a mafia!au

Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing

A/N: I just want to warn anyone, this chapter revolve around Steve and contains graphic scenes so if anyone feel like they may get triggered, I have now warned you. If you choose to read anyways it is YOUR choice.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Steve was fuming. He could practically feel the steam rising from the top of his head. This time, compared to earlier, it wasn't because of the feverish warmth inside the club. Nor the sunny season's air outside. It was because of the folder resting on the table.

The Canine boss could still hear the echoing slap the orderly stacked papers had done when landing on the table. Even your words reverberated in his head like an annoying tune he couldn't help but mutely sing in his mind.

This was not how he'd thought this meeting would go.

Steve had planned to get his will through, to expand his empire from Brooklyn to the most successful part of New York, Manhattan, your territory. But no. You'd decided to be as stubborn as a mule and as stuck up as the bureaucrats that he needed to handle in exclusive deals.

Now he understood why so many said your empire wasn't the usual kind, rather something new. You'd built your syndicate from the best, or worst in regard of how the Canine for the moment saw you, of two worlds.

"Bitch", you were long gone, so the growled curse aimed at you went unheard. However, the walls around Steve caught the profanity he uttered whilst snagging the folder from the table and pursued to head out of the room.

Only the guards stationed outside the corridor leading to the conference room was still in the club. Yet, the Canine boss paid them no mind as he stalked out of the private area, making them scramble to follow him. The rest of his party, even those previously undercover, must have either retreated for the night or waited outside. Concerning how Steve himself hadn't left yet, he suspected at least his most trusted team was waiting by the car.

Passing through the lobby, the mob boss frightened some of the staff lingering about. Not only thanks to the authority he always carried himself with but also his visible darkened features. However, Steve's attention didn't stray to the people following him with wary eyes. Instead, he looked straight forward, focusing on his guards where they lounged around the black Chrysler he'd arrived with a few hours earlier.

Seemingly, they had enough of an engaging conversation that they shared some laughs. But that changed the moment Steve stepped through the door a bouncer held open for him.

Usually, the Canine boss' hard exterior dissolved somewhat among his men, seeing how they'd become good comrades. Although now, when the dark-blonde man came out of the club looking like he could kill someone, their easy smiles and carefree stance immediately smartened up. Backs straightened and jaws clenched upon seeing the fury Steve not only emitted with a scowl but his whole body.

"How did it go?" One of the guards questioned, more out of courtesy than curiosity, concerning it was clear how it went. As suspected, he got nothing more than a glare from Steve, seeing how his anger hadn't flickered out the slightest, only heightened when feeling how his fingers clutched the folder in his hand even tighter. Your folder with your contract.

"Where's Barnes?" Some flinched by his bark of a question.

"He's still inside...", the rest of the answer fell on deaf ears as the blonde rounded the car, not caring too much where his head bodyguard was for the moment, only that he would hurry up to finish whatever he dealt with.

"As soon as he's back, we go", the driver, who had noticed the Canine boss and stepped out of the vehicle to hold open the door for him, didn't even get the chance to do what he intended. Steve all but tore open the backseat door and climbed into the car. Leaving the chauffeur to stand there and look at his boss in perplexity, as the Canine didn't more than touch the black leather seat before he slammed the door shut again.

That Steven had a temper everyone in his vicinity knew. But how he now acted reached not only a new level but contrasted heavily to how you'd appeared.

You'd left about ten minutes ago, looking indifferent to how everyone in Steven's patrol had seen you when first entering the designated conference room. That guard of yours had led you to the car parked mere ten feet from their own boss'. There, your chauffeur had greeted you with a smile and a few quiet words none besides you were meant to hear. Neither was your response, that likewise was accompanied with a smile, able to be distinguished.

As you stepped into your transport, none of the men trying to read your expressions noted anything more than a similar politeness Steve could show them once in their company. However, when comparing it to the state of their own boss once he exited, it was clear that the meeting didn't favour the Canine boss, but rather the Feline. And though none who had accompanied Steven knew what the two of you'd discussed concerning the meeting had been a closed-door discussion, they knew their boss hadn't brought anything with him earlier. So when spotting the portfolio that the mob boss had held in his hand, it only sealed the deal further.

That was why none of the guards nor the chauffeur intruded on the solitude Steve had sought inside the car, merely waiting for the right-hand man of the Canine boss to return so they could head to their next stop.

And it was good none did either, seeing how Steve mulled over everything that had happened with curses leaving him every five seconds. Additionally, anyone who would've opened the opposite backseat door would have got your folder smack in the forehead, seeing how the blonde man had thrown it as harshly and as far away from himself that he could, once in his own confinement.

He didn't need to hold the damned contract you'd offered him, even less open and study it, to know he would read it in your annoying voice. And that aggravated Steve even more.

It annoyed him that your voice echoed as a constant reminder in his mind. It annoyed him that you'd prepared a contract, which so obviously cried you hadn't even come here to listen to him in the first place. It annoyed him to such a fucking degree that you'd played him by a mere act of forced courtesy rather than a gentlemen move, to use your own words, that it felt like he could just tear the contract to shreds.

Still, he didn't.

The blonde man seethed, turning his head to look at the folder. 'If you don't sign it and have it delivered to me, I know you've declined my offer and this war will be ended in another way.' He knew you were serious about that, so perhaps that was why he hadn't left it behind in the conference room. Nonetheless, it had taken a great effort for Steve to push away every ounce of pride in his body to grab ahold of it. And when he finally held the stiff cartoon folder, it had almost felt like it burned him like some crucifix. No, it burned like a sign of defeat.

Joseph Rogers would never have done it, never admitted when he was defeated.

At the thought of his father, Steve's hand fisted where it rested on the armrest dividing the two seats in the back of the car. What would he say? He probably wouldn't have said anything, just walked out as you had done to him. A vibration deep in his chest made a low sound leave him at the realisation you actually played the game his father always had and Steve himself only thought he had.

Fittingly, or unfittingly in his own mind, the door connected to the other seat opened with a click to interrupt the abusive thoughts of his father.

Although pulled out of his mind, Steve didn't glance to see whoever plucked the folder occupying the seat beside him before they climbed in themselves. There was only one person that first and foremost would dare to be in his presence right now. On top of that, also knew he was the only one who didn't need to repeatedly ask for permission to join him.

Not even when he saw the person shift in his peripheral, from simply holding the folder to actually waving it slightly to catch his attention, clearly wanting to ask him a question, did Steve look towards them. Although, he did speak up.

"Not a word, Barnes", the Canine boss raised his fist, so it was levelled with his cheek as he said this. By now, his nails had dug into his palm and there was no question small crescent moons would be dented in his skin.

"Maybe I should've stayed, after all", the sentence was followed by a chuckle, the sound making Steve snap to watch the man sitting beside him.

"Didn't I say you should keep your mouth shut?" The blonde stared at the brunette. Who, unlike earlier, now had pulled his hair into a low bun in the nape of his neck. However, no matter the fury the Canine's cold blue eyes conveyed, Bucky Barnes saw no real threat.

"You often do, but you have so far not put a bullet in me", Bucky shrugged with an easy smile.

The mob boss remained silent as his head bodyguard leaned forwards far enough to knock on the wall beside the still open windshield that could separate the driver from those in the back seat.

"Close it up", Steve honestly thought the brunette would've given the chauffeur, who now had taken his place behind the wheel, directions of where to go. Gauging by his act, he must have done it before getting into the car. Hence, the driver did nothing but nod to signify he heard what the guard said before closing the visor, leaving whatever Steve knew Bucky wanted to talk to him about for only him to hear.

He felt the car rock to a gentle start, the road underneath the vehicle sending small vibrations throughout Steve. Tilting his head, he saw the scenery blur as he didn't concentrate on anything specific they drow by.

Despite the initial silence of the car ride, the blonde saw how the man beside him shifted, angling his body just slightly more his way. The minimal change of where Bucky attention laid told the mob boss he would initiate a conversation. And as on a cue, Bucky spoke. "So what happened? 'Cause clearly you scared half of your squad enough for them to want to take a week off".

He didn't redirect his gaze, fearing that his now fisted hand would connect with his friend's jaw if he didn't control himself. What happened? The question taunted in his mind, enough so that Steve clenched his jaw. Everything that shouldn't have happened.

"You have the folder", he gritted out, continuing to aimlessly stare out of the window, now concentrating on how the scenery changed from the narrow streets the nightclub had been located in to instead manifest the glittering sunset reflecting off the water in East River.

Beside him, he felt how Bucky shifted and shortly afterwards came the sounds of papers starting to be turned over. The head guard sat silent as he read the contract that not even the Canine had looked through.

The lack of verbal confirmation of Steve's evident loss in this meeting spurred the blonde, whether he wanted or not, to glance at the brunette.

Bucky's brows were furrowed. Consequently causing the grooves on his forehead, which always appeared when he pondered something, to become extremely visible. His features remained this way as his eyes scanned over the rows stitching together the contract. Then, for some reason, they changed.

From an expression showing the brunette tried to fathom the situation that had made Steve considerably harsher to anyone in his close vicinity, his face now fell and a smirk began to toy with his lips. On top of this, he let out a low whistle turning to the next page.

The smouldering anger in Steve's chest flared up to the same intensity it had burned with earlier. Back when he had sat in silence and glared at the folder inside the club. He ground his teeth together, feeling how they caught in each other's pointy edges.

"What?" He demanded to know what the man all of a sudden found so entertaining. Yet, the answer didn't come immediately. Instead, Bucky sat there with the same expression pinning his face while finishing the document in his grip.

Not until the brunette had closed the binder and waved it similarly to how he'd done when entering the car did his gaze meet Steve's. His eyes, also blue but slightly greyer in colour, was crinkled in the corners. The amusement, or whatever caused the mob boss nostrils to flare in agitation, was only further displayed by the shake of his head.

"She's good".

"What?" Bucky almost hadn't finished his nearly wordless reply before Steve barked his requirement of an explanation.

"Whether you want to admit it aloud or not, I know you think about it in that analysing brain of yours", the brunette begun, pushing the folder underneath the mob boss' arm on the armrest. Steve, who followed the act with disdain, shuffled in his seat directly afterwards so he wouldn't be touching the contract which you formerly had been carrying around.

Watching the blonde's action, Bucky only continued, now even less worried his words might be wrong and evoke further anger from the Canine. Of course, he might still get mad, though Bucky knew he at least was right. "She is good, Steve. If not shown by this contract, which I suggest you read, then at least how she's gotten to you".

The blonde man elected to ignore the last part of his bodyguard's sentence. Hence, only questioning the first part. "Why should I read it?"

Arrogance was a trait many shared once someone stepped on their pride, but never had Bucky witnessed such amounts of it exhibited by the Canine boss. His nose twitched in the corner as if the mere thought of opening the papers offended him. The mistrust in his voice showed he didn't believe what just was advised to him, nor that the words of you being competent could be true. All signs of denial, a damaged pride.

"Sometimes I wondered how you even could've come this far to rebuild your father's empire when you're so stubborn to see the truth at times", the comment made Steve cock his head.

"Is that a threat or a call for resignation, I hear?" Bucky simply rolled his eyes and turned to fully face the man, now giving him his undivided attention.

"I may have been here from the day you called me and asked me to join your plans, but believe me, working outside this world for some time, especially in the field I was in, you learn to see who is good at their job and not".

Although Bucky had known Steve ever since they were kids, essentially because their fathers had been partners when the Canine empire was worth more than its own power in gold, the two had fallen out of the regular touch they'd kept after Joseph had passed. Steve had remained close to his mother. While Bucky returned to have both his feet in the ordinary world.

His name had never been brought into the discussion of conviction or any kind of youth crimes, essentially thanks to his father never being proven guilty of the few charges raised against him. Another favour his old man thanked the former Canine boss for. For Bucky, it made things easy to find live his life as if he didn't know what went on underneath the city he walked in.

He went to school, took a degree in law. Which his father before passing as well, considered humorous. Though, Bucky didn't start working directly even if offered jobs. He'd been young and not really knowing which direction he would go. He had no mothers footsteps to follow, seeing how she'd passed before he even had a memory of her. His father shoes still felt too big to fill, so he decided to follow a path he felt natural.

Bucky joined the army. Not more than a few years and two trips. Nevertheless, it was easy pocket change concerning two factors. His father had urged him to take the same martial art classes as Steve's father had done to him. He'd also lived with one foot in the syndicate and the other outside during his whole childhood. The concept of order, planning and warfare wasn't anything alarmingly new to him.

Then he'd begun to explore more, starting to step into the low tier position as an intern at different firms. It was easy to get in, concerning his degree and quickly, he gained enough working experience to get a promotion. His former boss at the advocate company may have thought Bucky was a natural talent or a genius from school. But, it was all thanks to his upbringing he possed the requirements a higher position demanded.

It's mainly thanks to his years working within the judiciary before reconnecting with Steve and began working as his head guard Bucky knows you fall into the group of people who are good at what you do.

The blonde had sat silent this whole time, never breaking away from Bucky's stare. It made the brunette believe that his friend would settle whatever resent he had towards you personally and at least read through the arrangement you assembled for the greater of his empire. Apparently, he was wrong.

"But now you're not working with that anymore", Bucky actually let out a low scoff of annoyance.

"I'm working as a head personal guard for someone I'm swaying on keeping alive at the moment, I know. And I do this because we both know I'm better at the combat part than you, ever since we were kids", despite the jab, it was the mention of how the man, despite being roughly the same size as Steve, always had been slightly better at fighting then himself that made the blonde bite his inner cheek. "I also know that I'm still damn good at what used to be my former profession. Which, you actually also should know concerning you never shoo me out of the room when discussing with your official advisors of the plans to come", when he finally ended the point he wanted to prove, he cocked a brow at Steve, who now had furrowed his brows.

Bucky saw the ire still lingering in the blondes' eyes, making them go cold rather than warm. Nevertheless, he said nothing. The Canine boss simply gave the folder, which hadn't moved from its settlement no matter how much the two men gently had rocked with the turns of the car, one last glare before he altogether turned away as much as his seat let him.

The head bodyguard was close to letting the comment of how similar the mob boss, who'd made a name for himself lately of being indifferent to everything standing in his way, was to a rebellious child. Yet, in the end, he didn't, knowing the car ride would become even more atrocious than it already was set to be.

As suspected, the whole drive from the club to the luxurious hotel, where the Canine boss' next stop was, went by in complete silence. And, when they finally pulled up outside the building, the car had almost not stopped before Steve opened the door without a word. The brunette couldn't but let out a huff and follow the man out of the vehicle.

As Bucky tracked a few steps behind the blonde mob boss, he nodded to a few of the other bodyguards to follow as well. Whatever he might have remarked about considering to keep Steve alive was very much said as a dig at the moment to remind the man he might be written as his subordinate, but he was true to nature working side by side with him. After all, Steven was his friend and Bucky didn't desire to get his blood on his hands.

When the little party of Canines neared the entrance, both men stationed on each side of the doors opened them without further ado. Either they thought Steve looked like someone fitting to live here, or they could've been paid to do so. The brunette figured it was the latter concerning the overall safety measures, not only this hotel but the district in general upheld. Although, he didn't question it way too much as he now concentrated on the slightly denser crowd of people in the lobby.

Not only did they blend in quite well, concerning the people living at this hotel was flanked by at least two bodyguards each. Bucky also noticed how some of the former rigidity in Steve's shoulder lessened as he weaved through the lobby.

Though anyone else may find it excellent that the physical aspect of the blondes former irritation trickled off, it unsettled Bucky even further. Thus, having grown up with Steve, he knew that the silent seething anger was worse than the outgoing one. This, in other words, didn't bode particularly well.

However, even though the brunette had a raising suspicion, along with fear, that this visit the mob boss had decided to do after his meeting with you wouldn't have a good outcome, he had no chance to voice his worry. Essentially because the elevator they'd taken to reach the floor they were heading to now stopped.

Bucky was first to exit the elevator. Checking that the coast was clear before looking back to the Canine boss. He tried making the blonde meet his gaze, now seriously doubting if Steve was fit to meet the partner he'd had an escalating problem with the past weeks. Yet, the blue-eyed man kept his attention straight forward and didn't even spare his childhood friend a glance.

A thousand things were running through Steve's mind as he headed down the corridor, spotting the door his business partner was on the other side of.

He knew Bucky tried gaining his attention with the repetitive looks he threw his way. His most entrusted bodyguard and friend could read him like an open book. Thus knowing the silent facade that he'd put up was just that, a facade. Still, he continued to ignore him as he'd done ever since their conversation was over half an hour ago.

As the party stopped before the door, Steve decided to give the inclining nod to one of his other guards to step forwards and knock on the door.

Following three rapid knocks, a call of 'no cleaning' followed by a similar set of knockings later, footsteps could be heard near the door from the other side. A few seconds after, the door swung open, revealing a man currently trying to fasten his cufflinks.

"I said I didn't...". Even though the brunette's eyes had been cast down as he'd began to speak, the second they flickered up to watch, what the man must have assumed would be a hotel maid but rather was the Canine mob boss, he trailed off in his sentence.

"Good day Mr Jefferson", if the man's body hadn't already gone rigid, his shoulders bounced up even closer to his ears after Steve's greeting.

In a hurried attempt to smarten up, he completed his attempt of fastening the jewellery pin.

"Mr Rogers", he breathed out almost shakily while pulling a hand through his hair, some of the strands sticking to his scalp while others simply fell forwards once more. "Why do I owe the pleasure?"

Without answering, Steve stepped forwards, forcing the man to open the door wider.

As he walked into the pad, the blonde gazed around it uninterestingly. It was lavish. Probably like most rooms were in the hotel.

"I'm here to talk with you". Steve answered his associates question the second he heard the door closed. Taking the liberty, he sat down in the couch group occupying a vaster portion of the entry room's space. "Sit", with a wave of his hand, the Canine motioned to the sitting place at the other side of the dark oak table.

Jefferson, who glanced warily at the guards that had stationed themselves around the room -one by the window, another two directly behind Steve and the last lingering by the door out to the corridor- had no other choice than to follow the mob boss' directions.

Sitting down at the edge of the seat, he swallowed around the lump in his throat.

"How's business going?" The mob boss asked as he leaned against the couches backrest. One arm was slung over the ridge, fingers tapping against the material, while his other hand rested on his thigh.

"Bussines is going well".

"Good, always nice to hear companies you invest in are going strong", Steve hummed, noticing the minimal shift Jefferson did as he said this. "How's my money going?"

"Ah... t-that question is a little more complicated...".

Even though the brunette continued to ramble about all the different reasons his payments were late, or not even that, non-existing, the Canine boss didn't listen. He knew he was being screwed over by the man opposite him. He'd gotten the information weeks ago that the CEO of the company he's worked with since the beginning of the year wanted to change sides.

At first, it had been more of a rumour and he hadn't been able to dig up where Jefferson's company was heading. Then it became clear they would switch partners to one of the other godfather's around New York. However, even if Steve thought he didn't like how they tried doing so in the shadows while still upholding their deal, the worst thing was when he got to know who they shifted their alliance to. You.

Seeing how much unfavourable publicity you'd given his empire in the last few months was aggravating. However, listening to the man talking his ear off as if Steve hadn't already figured why exactly fifteen percentages of the profit capital was rolling into your account instead of his was the last drop.

Without even noticing it himself, Steve's hand that had rested upon his thigh raised and were tucked into his suit.

The metal handle he gripped wasn't cold anymore, not after having rested so close to his heart for over an hour. Nor did it get cooled down as he hastily pulled it out of its holster and aimed it at the man opposite him.

"I don't like rats, Landon", the use of the man's first name rather than surname would've made him quiet if the gun aimed his way already hadn't silenced him. "Pray you don't get reborn as one in your next life as well".

On the firearm, a silencer was mounted. So the characteristic bang sounded much more like a pop. Therefore, the noise of the gun was even less intimidating than the ricochet. However, neither of the telltale signs of a shot made Steve flinch, not even as he watched the bullet penetrate the space in-between his former associate's eyes, did he react.

As the mob boss stood, Jefferson's upper body slumped forward, hitting the table with a heavy thud and ugly clap as his head was the first thing that connected with it. No tears were trickling down his cheeks. Only a red streak that steadily created a near-invisible puddle on the mahogany table.

"Steve!" The silence and peace Steve found in watching the body was cut short by Bucky's voice.

The Canine glanced to his side, regarding how his head bodyguard rounded the couch and stood before him with one single step.

"What the fuck was that?" The brunette exclaimed, hand motioning to the dead body.

If any other person than Bucky would've done the same thing in this instance, they either would've ended up joining peaceful Mr Jefferson, or they wouldn't work within the Canine empire anymore. However, concerning that it now was his childhood friend staring at him in disbelief, Steve made sure none of the options was carried through.

"Problem-solving", Steve answered, about to take a step forwards but were stopped with a hand planting itself on his chest. He looked down before looking up with a cocked eyebrow.

"That ain't how we solve shit!"

"Not we, but I", Steve said, gripping Bucky's wrist, ripping it away from him. "You see, now both our problems are solved. He doesn't need to fear his cover being blown and I don't need to lose more money". That was all Steve said before taking a step around the brunette, whose eyes had narrowed considerably.

As most of his colleagues trailed after their boss, Bucky stayed back just a second longer, looking at the lifeless body giving a new sheen to the table whilst staining the carpet underneath. He'd known Steve had taken your conference badly and he also knew it hadn't been a good idea to have this appointment so shortly afterwards, especially when it was connected to you, but in such a different way. Still, he hadn't believed it would take this much of a turn.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

"Damn that fucking thing!" Steve roared, not thinking when he swept his hands over his desk. Everything from pencils, an empty coffee cup and other things crashed to the floor. However, it wasn’t solely that which now was littering the ground. The papers of your contract had flown out of the folder as well.

Staring down at the mess of shattered glass and paper from his standing position. The Canine boss felt a sneer enter his features. Ever since returning home late last night, he'd been locked inside his study. Primary because it was the place no one dared to disturb him in, but also because he didn't feel like arguing with Bucky.

He knew that after the stunt, as he knew his friend and bodyguard would label his approach to the Jefferson problem, the brunette wanted to speak with him. Yet, with the residue anger of not only a restless night, one Steve had powered through thanks to copious amounts of coffee. But also the subject now taunting him on the floor, a conversation with his right-hand man would lead nowhere.

He and Bucky didn't often get into fights, but Steve was convinced this was one of the matters that could force such a confrontation. He'd still not gathered his bearings enough to admit that he needed to yield. Because that was what he would need to do.

The mob boss switched from watching the scattered pieces of the contract to instead stare straight into the oaken surface of his desk as he now leant on it, knuckles turning white from how strongly he held the countertop. By now, he'd read through the four-page agreement. Something that was a step in the right, or in Steve's regard wrong, direction.

He didn't want to admit it. But as Bucky had mentioned yesterday, it was a top-certified contract. He couldn't find any loopholes. No grey-zones. No area that he could play you on.

Steve knew that you would be hard to crack, but he hadn't anticipated this.

Despite knowing that you and the Felina empire had overtaken his father's grip on New York, he had underestimated you. A woman running the empire you did was so uncommon he thought you would have some weak spot regarding how you had no one else to look up to. Nor did you have any previous family connections to the underworld. Which honestly made your success even more astonishing.

Almost so much it was questionable if you had done it yourself.

Steve had assumed you hadn't. Someone else must be the brain behind the operation, simply using you as a puppet. However, it seemed he'd made a tremendous mistake by assuming just that. It wasn't anyone else running your empire. You were involved in every little part of the well-oiled machine.

Once more, the canine boss let out an irritated noise, sounding more like a growl than a harsh sigh in his own ears.

He pushed off from the countertop and, in one motion, had side-stepped his chair. Now, with the room behind him, Steve stared out of the windows lining the wall furthest from the entrance. His arms had crossed over his chest and remained there as he stared out at the bay not far away.

Ferries and other boats travelled the waters. Breaking the tension and creating small waves. If it wasn't for this, it almost would've looked like they travelled through the city. Regarding how not only New York's but also Brooklyn's dusk lightning reflected in the water.

When the Canine boss finally felt the sight before him lessened the tension in his shoulders, a knock came from the door.

If his features ever had lightened, the sound immediately beckoned a furrow to take its place. Even more so when the door opened without him having given the person on the other side permission.

He knew who it was, Bucky.

"What do you want?" Steve's voice was cold, harsh.

"I want to speak with you", instantly, the mob boss noticed how his friend's voice didn't carry that joyous tone when he spoke to him as just that, friends. Bur rather the more levelled one, the professional one.

"I won't speak about Jefferson".

"Neither is that why I'm here", glancing over his shoulder upon hearing the rustle of paper, the Canine boss saw his guard pick up the pieces of the contract from the floor. He arranged them before putting them back into the folder. Contrary to how Steve would've caused the map to give away a whack when flinging it onto his desk. Bucky's hand followed through the whole movement. His fingers even resting upon the grey folder as it laid placid on the middle of the counter.

"I'm here to talk about the real problem", Steve turned to face the brunette. He didn't say anything. Still, Bucky knew that having gotten this much attention was a sign he either was about to be shot or given a limited amount to talk.

"I know this is hard for you, Steve... actually scratch that, it is hard for everyone who's supported you. But I'll be damned if you let everything we've worked for go to waste because you don't have it in you to lose a battle in favour of winning a later war"

All of a sudden, Bucky's face twisted as an unexpected crash echoed. His fist had smashed onto the table. Enough for the countertop to rattle.

“I love to give you the most personal advice I've ever had”, he started, not even holding back his pent up frustration. “Sign that fucking contract, pal". The canine boss' blue eyes narrowed as he met the stormy grey ones of the man before him.

"Get out", Bucky clenched his jaw and straightened himself.

"I'll be waiting for the call to come and pick it up", was the last thing the brunette said before swiftly turning on his heel and heading to the door.

Steve followed his oldest friend with his eyes until the door echoes shut behind him. Even after Bucky's footsteps were long gone, did the Canine boss stare forward. He did it simply because he didn't want to let his eyes flicker down to the contract, now turned to the last page where the paper waited for his signature.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

A day later, Steve still stared at the folder resting un-signed on his desk. It was out of pure spite he hadn't signed it. To keep your victory at bay.

Two days later and he felt how the clock on his wall ticked louder than before. How the voices in his head escalated from whispering to shouting at him. 'Sign that fucking contract, pal.'

Three days later and Steve felt how time was running out.

Even if he didn't want to admit it aloud. To not sign would be foolish. Sure, he had the resources to continue this war. Hence, the short extra time the meeting and his delay in signing the contract had abled him to recoup. But still, his empire was lacking a significant piece his father's syndicate had, time. He needed more time to grow but wasn't given that. So yes, he could continue this battle, but he could not win it.

Therefore the mob boss gripped the pen and pressed the ink dipped tip to the dotted line.

His signature was darker than usual. More colour bleeding onto the paper. The curves of the letters were not as smooth as regular either. Instead, straighter, pointier. Forced.

Steve didn't look at his name shining back at him once he raised the pen and put it back in its stand. Instead, Steve stood and dialled a number on his phone. One tone was all it took before the person on the other end picked up.

"Get it out of my sight, Barnes", was all he said before instantly hanging up. The call had lasted four seconds. Even so, Steve deleted it from the history of his 'latest' list.

Shoving the phone into his pockets, the blonde man stood from his chair and headed to the office doors. He didn't look back once at the folder left behind on his desk. Not even when he closed the doors behind him.

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years

Text

Into The Unknown, Part 7

First

Sorry the chapter is late my schedule got thrown off by a hurricane

Three days after they arrived in Gotham, they officially ran out of cash.

Honestly, it was a wonder they had even lasted as long as they had. Who knew that rich kids had so much money just laying around? Certainly not her, if she had she probably would have reconsidered rejecting Adrien’s old offers to date to make their fans shut up... because damn.

Now, they sat outside Drake Manor.

Marinette sat, back resting against the gate, playing a game with the baby. In an effort to soothe the kid’s need to fall from high places, she had tossed him a foot in the air and then caught him. Unfortunately, this didn’t seem to help, but it did entertain Damian. He giggled like a madman (mad...baby?) every time she did it and would yell ‘up!’ every time she tried to stop. Her arms were tired. She’d been doing this for what felt like years, and would be doing it for many years to come. Save her.

The only person that could possibly save her was, unfortunately, busy with other things.

Tim was applying for credit cards. He had stuck his computer and phone through the gate to get their wifi so the company wouldn’t be suspicious (Marinette said they probably wouldn’t be but the king of paranoia had insisted) and was now pressed up against it as far as he possibly could, arms poking through the bars to keep working.

“This is only until we have enough money to get on our feet,” Tim said.

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, Tim, I know.”

He nodded a little against the bars that were pressing against his face and allowed the subject to drop -- for now, Marinette knew it was only a matter of time before he said it again.

“At least one of us needs a job at WE, that’s the only way both of us would be able to send the kid to daycare.”

Marinette stopped tossing Damian, considering, only to immediately start up again when the baby screamed “UP!” at her.

“Probably me,” she said, finally. “The you that lives here is a direct competitor, you might get recognized.”

He nodded his agreement.

And then she sighed and set Damian in her lap because her arms were physically unable to lift him anymore. Damian screamed at her but she just wrapped her arms around him tightly and pet his hair until he relaxed.

When he finally shut up, she said: “You know we’re going to have to wait for both of us to get a job.”

He paused in his typing. “What do you mean?”

“Since it’s WE, they probably have pretty thorough background checks. Two adults that seemingly have lived here their entire lives getting a job at pretty much the exact same time is… more than a little suspicious.”

He pulled his head back from the gate and she wondered idly if he was finally done, but then he just knocked his forehead against the bars. There was a resounding clang that neither of them minded, all of this world’s Drakes were currently at work, and he groaned.

“Yeah, that kind of screams ‘we’re using fake identities’, doesn’t it?”

“Kinda, yeah.”

He groaned again, louder this time.

“I can stay at home,” she offered, somewhat reluctantly. “I can cook.”

He sighed and shook his head as much as the gate would allow. “No. You’re probably going to have an easier time getting a job, WE accepts basically everyone. We need money, so I’ll be a stay-at-home dad.”

Oh.

She smiled a little and looked down at Damian, who was currently petting her hair like she had been petting his just a few moments before. She blinked but reciprocated the action. Damian lit up and reached his hands up so he could get more of her hair.

She leaned down a little and nuzzled her nose against Damian’s.

She glanced up and saw Tim checking over what he had done so far, apparently thinking the conversation over.

Marinette hesitated. If she really wanted, she could just let the conversation drop.

She mumbled a quiet: “... thanks, Tim.”

He didn’t look up from his screen, but she could see the pink tinge in his ears. “It’s fine. I don’t even know what I’d do yet. I’ve only ever had one job and I got it because of nepotism.”

She grinned. “From rich kid to even richer CEO to trophy husband.”

“Oh, how the mighty hath fallen.”

She felt a hand tug her hair and looked down to see Damian pouting, so she started running her fingers through his hair. It was getting kind of long, she wondered if she should get it cut. She didn’t want it to get caught on something, the kid could get hurt.

A thought occurred to her. She glanced at Tim out of the corner of her eyes. “You know… you’re taking my name and I’m going to be the one getting money… maybe you should grow out your hair and I’ll cut mine. Y’know, to really get into our roles.”

He huffed a little. “Shut up.”

She laughed. “Fine. But, really, I think you should grow your hair out. It’d be pretty.”

The both of them tensed at the implications of what she had said. She wondered if she could play it off as a joke… or maybe she should apologize? The blush that had tinged his ears was now creeping down his neck. Was he embarrassed or flustered or angry?

Before she could figure out what to do, Tim’s phone rang.

He fumbled for the phone and pressed it to his ear, successfully hiding the rest of his face from her view.

“Hello?... yes, this is Timothy Drake… yes, I just applied for a new card… I figured I would have a backup in case one of my others got stolen, you know how it is… can I have the card information in advance?... great, thank you!”

He hung up and turned to her, smiling widely.

“We have money.”

She didn’t react how he expected, no playful grin or witty remark or even just a smile. Instead, she doubled over with laughter. Damian whined a little in protest as she threatened to squish him.

He frowned confusedly. “What?”

She motioned vaguely to his face, giggles still spilling from her lips. “It’s just… you’ve been leaning against the gate for so long that it’s made little lines in your face.”

He huffed. “It’s not that funny.”

She managed to get her breathing under control again. “It’s a little funny.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

She opened her mouth to continue the dumb little argument they were having but then Damian yelled: “NO!”

Tim lit up. “HA. He agrees with me.”

She gasped. “Dami, how could you? You’re supposed to be on my side,” she said with an over exaggerated pout.

Damian looked up at her pout for a moment before slowly leaning forward and attempting to wrap his arms around her middle in a hug.

“Oh,” she said softly, carding her fingers through his hair a few times. “Okay, I forgive you.”

“Weak,” Tim teased.

She looked over to send him a glare, but then she saw the fond smile on his face and relaxed.

“I am. Look at him. He’s so cute.”

“Yeah. He is.”

Tim leaned back against the bed frame.

Marinette was out at a job interview for WE. He hoped she got it, he didn’t know what they’d do if she didn’t.

But, he didn’t really have much time to think about that. He was on baby duty.

He’d gotten better at dealing with Damian while doing things, it seemed. He had found a position to sit where one knee was pulled to his chest and the other curled close to him, his legs acting as a chair for the kid. One hand held the kid’s bottle as he drank, and the other scrolled through apartment options on his phone.

They’d probably be in an apartment for at least a while. He didn’t know how homeownership was in this new version of Gotham, but in the old one if you were able to afford a house on your own then you were an immediate target for thieves.

So: apartments.

They could probably get away with a one-roomer, at least while Damian was young. It wasn’t like they needed much room for him, anyway, they might even get rid of the crib since it didn’t look like either of them had the willpower to leave the kid in it all night.

Damian slapped the bottle away, apparently done despite only having drank… all of it. Huh, he must have been more out of it than he’d thought.

He turned off his phone and looked down at the baby. Damian looked back up at him, giving that wide-eyed stare babies were so fond of.

Tim cracked, a smile making its way across his face. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of his little brother’s head.

“So, kiddo, what do you want to do?”

Damian babbled at him in an authoritative tone. Tim nodded thoughtfully, as if he understood him and was truly considering the idea of whatever it was he said.

“Interesting idea. I think we should watch TV. Sound good?”

Damian nodded, though Tim really doubted that he had somehow managed to say the exact thing that he had.

He pulled the remote out of the bedside drawer and started flipping through channels, looking for something that was bright and colorful enough for Damian to enjoy it but at least semi-decent so Tim wouldn’t be bored out of his mind.

He came upon Monsters LLC and turned it on. While Tim agreed that, considering the way that Mr. Firenoose acted, the company would totally be an LLC, it just didn’t have the same ring to it as Monsters Inc. So sad. The kids of this world were missing out.

At least Damian seemed to be enjoying it. He gasped and pointed at this world’s version of Sully and yelled “KITTY!”

Before Tim could correct him, though, the knockoff Boo said the same thing.

Great. Well. He supposed the kid was close enough. At least there were no monsters in this world for Damian to mistake for cats. It wouldn’t come back to bite them. Probably.

And, so, that’s how the day went. Tim and Damian sat in bed, Damian leaning back against Tim’s chest and watching his movie, a new bottle of milk half in his mouth. Tim scrolled through apartment options on his phone, picking out a few to check out over the next few days.

After a while, Marinette slipped in. She kicked her shoes off, letting them fly in opposite directions, and then trudged across the room.

She dropped onto the bed face down beside the two boys and Tim frowned.

“I’m guessing that means it didn’t go well?”

“No, I got the job,” she said, her voice muffled. “They said I could start tomorrow if I wanted.”

“... then…?”

She slowly picked her head up. She looked absolutely exhausted. “I’m an intern.”

… yikes.

He hesitantly reached a hand out and patted her head a few times.

She rolled her eyes and pulled a pillow to herself so she could scream into it.

Damian looked away from the movie, eyes wide, and then looked at Tim like he would somehow know how to fix it.

… he probably was supposed to. He was the adult here and, supposedly, married to her.

But Tim was a bat. So, he pulled a classic bat move:

“Want to spar?”

“... kinda,” she admitted. “But what about Damian?”

Damian was currently entranced by a movie about… was that unicorn eating trash?

It didn’t matter. (It totally did. What the fuck was going on in this movie?)

Tim smiled. “I’m sure that Kaalki and Tikki can warn us if something is going to happen. Not that it looks like anything will.”

Marinette hesitated before breaking into a smile. “Okay, let’s do it. I’ve been feeling a little antsy.”

He gently picked up Damian and set him on the bed, telling the kwamis to keep him safe for the maybe ten minutes they would be distracted, and then led Marinette a few feet away so they could let out a little bit of their excess energy.

~~~~~

@nathleigh @peachmuses @unoriginalmess @hammalammadamdam @astrynyx @laurcad123 @927roses-and-stuff

#into the unknown #maribat #timari #timinette #timmari #shutterbug #tim drake #red robin #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 3 years

Text

Wooed

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader Rating: T Warnings: Cursing; Fluff Notes: I watched a supercut of Marcus Pike’s scenes and uh... Yeah. I’m in love? also i’ve never written for this man before so i’m sorry if this is awful Summary: You hadn’t been on a date since you’d started working for the bureau; truth be told, you’d been nursing a crush on Marcus for the last few months.

When you told him, he seemed… Horrified. You couldn’t believe you were even having this discussion, but, hell, when you’re on a stakeout with someone, you run out of other things to talk about (even after you’d grilled him for the details of the band that he used to be in). Frankly, it was a wonder that it had taken you that long to reach relationships - the two of you had been in that car for nearly three hours. You’d known that Marcus had been married and divorced once; you hadn’t known about his most recent relationship, before he’d moved to DC, though. And after he’d spilled his guts, it was only fair that you do the same.

To you, it wasn’t that odd. The relationships that you’d been in had mostly started as friendships, and had grown to more. They weren’t whirlwind romances.

“So?” Marcus had asked, frowning, shaking his head. “So… So what you’re describing wasn’t, like… Part of the package,” You shrugged. “They didn’t even try?” “Try what?” You laughed. “You know, taking you out, buying you flowers, introducing you to their friends--” “I usually knew their friends already.” “Flowers?” “Allergic.” “Taking you out.” “I mean, sometimes, sure. That’s par for the course no matter who you’re dating, right?” Marcus leaned back in the driver’s seat, watching you, and you turned to eye the house that you guys had been watching. There had been no change; no car had pulled up, no one had come outside. “You’re allergic to all flowers?” You rolled your eyes. “I haven’t given every single flower in the world an individual whiff to make sure, but pollen makes me sneeze, yeah.”

The two of you settled into quiet again; Marcus’ focus returned to the house, but you could tell that his mind was still elsewhere. “Okay, tell me something,” He said after a few minutes. “Hm?” “Your last relationship.” “Mhm?” “Started as a friend and… Became more?” “Mhm.”

“Once that happened, you guys just, what, flipped a switch?” You considered this for a moment, then shrugged. “Things were the way they had been, just with a...Physical component. Why are you so hung up on this?” You added, turning to look at him.

“Cause, everyone oughta be… I don’t know… Wooed-- at least once.” Your brows rose. “Wooed?” You repeated, amused. “Yes. Wooed,” Marcus doubled down, nodding.

“When was the last time you were wooed?” “It’s been a while.” “So you’re overdue and projecting,” You decided, turning back to the house. “I am not--! I am not projecting. Would I mind it? Of course not, but I’ve been wooed before. You’ve never had the experience, and that is a shame.” You rolled your eyes as the two of you settled back into an easy quiet. “... I bet you’d like it.” “Hm?” “Being wooed.” “You realize if I had a nickel for every single time you’ve said ‘wooed’ in the last ten minutes, I’d have twenty cents?” You retorted. If you had just a touch less composure, you were pretty sure you’d combust. Your very attractive, very available, very nice-smelling boss was talking about wooing in close-quarters. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him again; you could hardly stand the wide-eyed puppy-like way he’d blinked at you before when you’d told him that your ex-boyfriends had never been particularly romantic. But Marcus just chuckled despite your prickly tone. The sound was cut off by his cell phone ringing. You glanced down at it before turning back to the house. “Pike,” Marcus answered. You waited, listening for a few moments. “Uh huh… Thanks, Wallace.” You glanced over at Pike as he hung up. “Did they get a hit?” You asked. “Yeah, Wallace and Fernandez are tailing him now, so we’re clear,” Pike said, setting his phone aside and starting the car up. “Sweet,” You sat up, refastening your seatbelt. You and Pike chatted idly as he drove back to your apartment. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” You pushed down a yawn as you undid your seatbelt and reached back to grab your jacket from the backseat. “Yeah… Hey.” You stopped at Marcus’ voice, turning to look at him again. And damnit, there were those wide brown eyes again. “Yes?” You asked. “Are you busy tomorrow night?” “No, why?” “Lemme show you what you’ve been missing.” If it were anyone else, you’d be convinced that he was putting you on, and you’d shrug it off and laugh. But there was something just a little too soft, a little too sincere in the way he spoke. “...Pike, you don’t have to do this because you feel bad about my supposed lack of wooing--” “Well, maybe my reason is a little more selfish than that,” He shrugged a shoulder, a bashful smile tugging at his lips, “Whaddaya say? No pressure, either way.”

You believed Marcus when he said that there was no pressure; he didn’t seem the type to make your life hell if you turned him down. Thing was, you didn’t want to turn him down. “Alright, Pike,” You nodded, adding, “Woo me,” Before getting out of the car. -- You wound up out of the office and tailing the suspect with Wallace for most of the following day, so you didn’t need to worry about keeping a cool head in the office around Pike. That was a relief-- you couldn’t remember the last time you felt so antsy. You hadn’t been on a date since you’d started working for the bureau; truth be told, you’d been nursing a crush on Marcus for the last few months.

The man was sweet and incredibly considerate. He seemed to take notice of the little things about you - how you took your coffee, when you’d gotten your hair trimmed, the fact that you preferred french toast to pancakes (which he told you was just weird). Your time chatting during the stakeout had only confirmed the feeling you’d had since meeting the man: you wanted to get to know him better. You and Wallace were able to pick up the suspect and bring him in for questioning. By the time you’d filled out your report, it was nearly time for you to leave for the night. You knocked on the half-open door to Marcus’ office, holding up your report. He waved you inside. “Wallace said everything went fine,” He said. “No complaints. Guy’s in holding for now.” “Good.” Marcus took your report, but instead of looking over it like he typically did, he looked up at you. “You still up for later?” He asked. “Mhm.” “You sure?” “Uh-huh.” “Positive?” “You trying to talk me out of it?” “Nope. Just checking.” “Where are we going?” “Oh, no. It’s a surprise,” Marcus chuckled, “But I’ll pick you up at seven?” “Seven,” You nodded. -- Somehow you’d thought you’d be less nervous the closer it got to seven. You couldn’t imagine where Marcus was taking you, and you had spent way too long worrying that what you were going to wear wasn’t going to be nice enough, or would be too nice. You didn’t want to look like you’d tried too hard, or like you hadn’t tried at all.

You’d wound up in one of your favorite dresses, a quilted black leather jacket, and a pair of booties. Depending on what you saw Marcus wearing when he answered the door, you could either ask him to fasten a necklace you were considering (which would dress the outfit up a little more), or leave it. You jumped a little at the sound of your doorbell. You took a deep breath, walking over to the door and opening it. Marcus was standing outside in a plum button down, with a dark tie and a dark blazer. He was not subtle in looking you over, but you didn’t take much note of that. You were too distracted by the bouquet of flowers in his hands. Your brows rose. “First of all, you look beautiful. Second of all, before you worry about sniffling,” He raised a single finger to stop you, “I did some research. These are low-pollen, least likely to cause reactions to people that are allergic: Sunflowers, lilies, roses,” he pointed to one of each. You took in the sight of them, the delicate petals of the white roses and lilies, and the splashes of yellow from the sunflowers, and you felt an odd warmth in your chest - one that you were certain wasn’t the result of an allergic reaction. You reached out, taking them from Marcus and looking down at them. You hesitated, before screwing your face up, taking in two breaths and going, “Ah-- Ah--!” You met Marcus’ eye, quickly adding, “Kidding,” and giving Martcus a wide smile, “They’re beautiful, thank you.”

Marcus put his hand on his chest, laughing shakily. “Okay, you-- scared the crap out of me, jeez.” “I couldn’t help myself,” You teased, grinning up at him, “And you look gorgeous, too.” “Thank you. Now come on, joker,” He chuckled, taking a step back. You grabbed your purse from where you’d hung it on the coat hook by the door, following Marcus to his car. You reached for the door handle, but heard, “Ah-ah.” You raised a brow, taking a step back as Marcus held the door open for you. “Thank you,” You said. “Of course,” He winked before shutting the door behind you. -- You held the flowers in your lap the entire ride, idly running your fingers over the petals. You really couldn’t understand what Marcus had been fussing about during the stakeout, but you had to admit, you were already feeling… Slightly wooed. Not that you’d tell Marcus that... ...Not that you needed to tell Marcus that, you were pretty sure he could tell. Especially when he parked the car. You were hesitant to put the flowers in the backseat, and he’d chuckled. “They’ll be here when we get back, sweetheart,” He’d teased, “Promise. Go on-- And don’t you dare reach for that door handle.” “Better move fast, I’m pretty quick on the draw.”

“So I’ve seen.” -- Marcus had picked an upscale American Bistro - somewhere neither of you had been before. You’d been a little worried that all you’d have to talk about was work. And work did come up, sure, but it was hardly the only thing that was discussed. The time that you’d spent together on the stakeout had gotten a lot of the awkward first date getting-to-know-you questions out of the way.

-- You found out that there was more to Marcus’ wooing game than a bouquet of flowers and some dinner. After the two of you ate (and he paid, though you’d heavily protested and insisted on paying “next time”; you’d gotten a smile from him that was wider than the Potomac), you went on a walk. Your hands had brushed together a handful of times before Marcus had caught hold of yours. It had been a loose hold at first, giving you a chance to pull your hand away. You’d tightened your grip on Marcus’ hand, and his smile had widened, gentle and generous. -- “Okay, this technically doesn’t count toward the wooing, since you paid,” Marcus argued as the two of you stepped out of an ice cream shop with cups in hand. “Maybe I’m wooing you a little,” You retorted, bumping Marcus’ hip with your own, “Thought we agreed you were past due, too. How’s the blueberry?” “Here,” Marcus held his spoon out to you. You leaned up, taking the offered treat and humming, leaning away and licking your lips. “Good?” “Tasty.” “How’s the cinnamon?” You held your spoon up to Marcus, smiling as he took his time taking a taste. He hummed. “I like blueberry better,” He said honestly. “Figures. Weirdos that prefer pancakes sure do have odd opinions.” “Alright, you’re cute, but you will not get away with insulting pancakes, sweetheart.” “Just saying, I’ve never met a pancake that I’ve liked.” “We should fix that.” “You’re just out to fix every single wrong in my life, huh?” “If you’ll let me.” “I’ve got a wobbly coffee table, you gonna fix that next?” “I’ve got a newspaper in my car that’s a couple of days old, I’m sure we could balance it out.” --

He walked you to your door, too. Dating wasn’t new to you, and what Marcus was doing may’ve been a bunch of… Seemingly little things, but you could feel the difference. “So?” Marcus asked as the two of you neared your front door. You looked up from your bouquet (you were still stunned it hadn’t made you sneeze yet) and raised a brow. “So?” You returned, stopping on your doorstep. “Was I right?” He raised a brow. “...You were not wrong. Wooing is severely underrated… And you’re freaky good at it, dude, I mean-- You should be teaching a course.” Marcus laughed, head ducking bashfully. You smiled, biting your lip a little. “I am glad you enjoyed it. And I appreciated the fact that it wasn’t one-sided,” He peered down at you from under his lashes, stepping a little closer, “Though there is… Typically one more component to wooing.” “Oh? Something you managed to forget or something we just didn’t get to?”

“Just didn’t get to,” Marcus backed you up against your door frame, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks. “And what exactly would that--” You started to tease. You didn’t get to finish asking, which was fine - you kind of already knew the answer, had kinda gotten the hint already, but it kinda didn’t matter. Marcus had been generous all night - with his time, his touches, his smiles, his winks. He was just as generous with kisses. It felt like just a whisper at first - a caress, barely. Your breath caught in your throat, eyes falling closed as Marcus tipped his head to the side, brushing his lips more firmly against yours. You leaned up, chasing the touch, and heard yourself sigh as his lips pressed to yours. You raised a hand from his bouquet, sliding it around the back of his neck. You melted a little as you felt Marcus hum against your lips. You opened your eyes as Marcus leaned away. You licked your lips, tipping your head back against the door frame as Marcus looked down at you with dark, hazy eyes. “Would you, um… Would you like to come inside?” You offered. “Was my wooing that effective, or is this still about your coffee table?” Marcus asked, sliding his hands down your shoulders. “Well, you did leave that old newspaper in the car.” “Oh, I can go grab it,” Marcus offered, taking a step back. “Get back here!” You laughed, gripping him by the collar and drawing him back in for another kiss.

#Wooed #Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike x Reader #Marcus Pike x You #Marcus Pike/Reader #Marcus Pike/You #Marcus Pike imagine #planning for this to be a oneshot #but that's... always the plan isn't it

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breakyeol · 3 years

Text

— SQUIRM, BABY.

You don’t like Doh Kyungsoo. Especially not when he’s got his fingers buried knuckle deep inside of you and your seeing stars —goddamn stars!— but can’t make a sound unless you want the entire library to know exactly what he’s doing to you under the table.

┗ Pairing: Tutor!Kyungsoo x Reader

Genre: college au, tutor au, enemies w benefits au, smut

Words: 4.7k

Rating: 18+

Warnings: strong language, sexual acts in a public setting, fingering

A/N; tomorrow is going to be my 1 year anniversary as an EXO-L!! oh my goodness that feels so crazy, time really flies. so here is a little present from me to you, enjoy lovelies!!

“These are all wrong,” Kyungsoo mutters blankly, “start over.”

A loud groan is ripped from your throat, the sound earning you more than a few sideways glares from the surrounding tables but you can’t really bring yourself to care. You’ve been here for two hours, studying one of the most intolerable subjects in the world: Calculus. The mere mention of its name made you shiver in disgust.

To be blunt, you’d always been shit at math. Numbers and equations were never your strong suit, not in high school and definitely not now with the added complexities of derivatives and differential equations (neither of which made even the slightest bit of sense to you). You much preferred the gentleness of literature and history to the strict logic and rules of mathematics and science. Unfortunately for you, the latter subjects were just as vital a part of your education, and opting out of them was not an option.

“Can’t we take a break?” You almost whine the question, pressing your fingers into your throbbing temples. “My brain feels like it’s going to explode.”

“No.”

You scowl at the bluntness of his rejection. “I’m paying you.” You point out, stabbing a finger into his bicep for emphasis. “Shouldn’t I have a say in when we take a break?”

He rolls his eyes, swatting your hand away and shoving the paper back in your direction. “I’m giving you your money’s worth. Do it again.”

You let out a noisy huff of air, slouching over dramatically in the stiff plastic chair until your chin is pressed against the cold table. “I hope you know I am deeply regretting some of my life decisions right about now.” You grumble, shooting him an icy glare that you hope conveys the absolute loathing you feel for both him and the set of problems laid before you.

“I thought that was a daily thing for you.”

Scoffing, you bury your mouth in the thick sleeve of your hoodie. “Your face is a daily thing for me.”

He doesn’t even bother to look at you, though you could almost feel the intensity of his deadpan. “I think that was the shittiest comeback I’ve ever heard.”

“Your face is the shittiest comeback I’ve ever heard.”

“You do realize that that makes absolutely no sense.”

“Your fa—”

“Shut up and do your work.”

He either doesn’t hear or consciously chooses to ignore the colorful array of curses you grumble spitefully in his direction, though simultaneously resigning yourself to the fact that you won’t be able to put off your work inevitably. Kyungsoo was a stickler for proper time management. If he had an agenda set in place for your tutoring session (which he always did), then you better believe he’d be checking off each item within its designated time frame. And if you don’t cooperate— well then, your best bet is to pray that there isn’t a mechanical pencil within his reach.

He might not always be able to reach the top shelf, but Kyungsoo had ways of getting what he wanted. Usually, that chilling glare was enough to get those around him to bend to his will. He could be a scary little shit when he wanted to be. You’ll admit, even you had been the tiniest bit intimidated when you first met him. He was quiet, reserved, strict in manner, but also the dangerous unpredictable type, you gathered that much quickly enough. Maybe that’s why the two of you didn’t get on too well.

Where he was cool and standoffish, “a man of few words” some might say, you were more vocal about your opinions, social by nature, always eager to meet new people and make new connections. You had a tendency to speak loudly when excited and talk with your hands when passionate about a subject. That was something most people learned about you very quickly. Unfortunately, upon your first official meeting at a party in your freshman year with your mutual friends, Kyungsoo had no idea just how emphatic you could be until you’d knocked his drink clean out of his hand and spilled it down the front of his brand new shirt.

It was an accident, of course. You’d apologized profusely and he’d accepted it (albeit somewhat begrudgingly), but that was probably the first of many missteps in your... unique relationship.

With such conflicting personalities, it was understandable that you got into frequent arguments about one thing or another. Petty disagreements would often grow into something larger than they really needed to be. Mostly because despite having such contrasting personalities, you shared the trait of innate stubbornness, neither of you willing to admit when you were wrong. It was easy to argue with him, and you liked when you proved him wrong. You liked the way his brows furrowed and his cheeks flushed. You liked the way he glared, the way his lips pouted. You like the challenge he presented you with every time he opened his mouth. Above, you loved to win. Especially when it was against him.

So you pushed, and he pushed right back. And before you knew it, you found yourself a proper ‘frenemy’, though you aren’t sure that that’s quite the right word to describe whatever it was you two were.

But that’s just how the two of you are, how you’d always been. If you were being honest, riling him, seeing that usually so stoic, so controlled expression crack when you pushed just the right buttons— it was fun. You thoroughly enjoyed fucking with him, discovering new and creative ways to get under his skin. And you knew he got just as much satisfaction from doing the same to you, rendering you speechless with witty comebacks, flustering you with his sharp tongue and impressive rebukes.

So really, was it such a terrible thing?

Not to mention, a number of not-so-terrible things occurred as a result of one of your many arguments, such as hiring him as your calculus tutor. One that started out with you claiming he would probably be the shittiest teacher to ever exist (which seemed a valid argument at the time considering how short tempered and impatient he could be *cough* with you *cough*) to which he rebutted with the claim that he could “teach a goldfish advanced calculus” if he set his mind to it, and considering that you “had an IQ equivalent to one”, he could without a doubt teach you. His words, obviously.

It just so happened that you had a calculus exam coming up that next week, so to prove his point, he tutored you for the three days preceding said test. Even though you loathe being proven wrong, you ended up getting one of the highest scores you’d ever gotten on a math test in your entire academic career.

Putting your pride aside, you made the suggestion that he continue to tutor you. He only agreed when you offered him green in exchange for his troubles and admitted that he was right (it took a few extra hours to convince yourself that your grades should be held above your ego before you could bring yourself to verbally admit defeat).

And now here you are, not flunking out of calculus. You’d consider that worthy of the bruise to your pride, even if only by a small margin.

“Kyungsoo, why’d you mark this one wrong?” You frown at the large red X marking problem two as incorrect. You’d been glaring at your scribbled work for almost two minutes, running over the problem in your head, but you couldn’t seem to figure out where he thought you’d gone wrong. It looks right enough to you.

Kyungsoo shifts over to get a better look, his arms pressing against yours in the process and you are briefly stunned by the sudden, unexpected closeness, wholly unable to stop yourself from noticing the faint, woody scent of his aftershave that caresses your senses. Fuck. You can’t tell if you hate or love the fact that he smelled so good. Partly love it because good hygiene is always something to admire in a man (even if that man was Doh Kyungsoo), partly hate it because dammit it’s Doh Kyungsoo and you loathe finding anything that has to do with him attractive. Plus, it’s distracting. You’re here trying to learn and he has the audacity to go around smelling like pine trees and fresh moss after a rainfall. Unfair.

“Right here.”

The scowl you don’t realize you’re wearing immediately drops away as the low baritone of his voice thrums through the cavity of your ribcage and you lean forward to see exactly what he’s pointing at.

“You multiplied straight through instead of distributing.” He explains further upon seeing the uncertainty on your face. A few seconds of further inspection and you finally see what he’s talking about.

“Fuck,” you hiss, “I’m so stupid.”

“It’s an easy mistake to make.” He reassures.

“Yeah, but I should know that by now, I should’ve—” you turn your head, only to nearly choke on air as you discover that any space that once existed between the two of you has virtually disappeared, “... seen it.”

He’s close, so close that you can feel the cool rush of his breath against your skin as he exhales, goosebumps bristling across your arms in response. He’s close. Too close. You can’t think straight, can’t even breathe. The moment that surrounds you feels fragile, like even the slightest disruption would rupture it completely.

Frozen, you can only swallow around the sudden dryness of your mouth as your treacherous eyes drop to trace the plush line of his lips. Who even has lips like that? They’re just so big and so pink, that dark, kissable kind of pink that every girl just wishes her lips could be. You, included. They look soft, and you can’t help but to wonder if they’d still taste like the strawberry bubblegum he’d been chewing on at the beginning of your tutoring session.

“Careful, ___.” The sound of Kyungsoo’s voice, raspier than you recall it being before and laced in a faintly taunting pitch, is enough to break you from your trance and, once freed, you whip your head around fast enough to give yourself whiplash.

“Fuck off.” You cough, jaw clenching as you attempt to drag your mind out from the gutter and back onto the calculus problems you have yet to correct. But for whatever reason your brain refuses to cooperate, instead filling your head with images of his pretty mouth and everything it could be doing instead of rambling on about something as uninteresting as calculus. Damnit.

No doubt seeing the distress written clearly across your face, Kyungsoo chuckles, the sound low and smooth where it drips from his lips, and a familiar heat blossoms in the pit of your stomach.

You can feel his eyes on you now, every cell of your being suddenly hyperaware of his presence beside you. The pressure of his knee where it nudges against yours, the teasing curl of his lips as he watches you struggle to focus, the warmth of his palm caressing up your thigh, the— wait what?

Your gaze whips down, breath hitching at the sight of Kyungsoo’s hand gently gripping the lagging clad flesh just above your knee. It’s another few seconds before you’re able to find your voice again.

“W– What’re you—?”

“Focus.” He cuts you off smoothly, fingers soothing over the inside of your leg, squeezing gently. When you don’t look away from him, he smirks, jerking his chin forward in a manner you can only interpret as challenging. There’s a familiar glint in his eye, a dangerous glint that doesn’t fail to provoke your competitive side. You know that look well. He’s challenging you.

And you don’t back down from a challenge.

Especially not from Doh Kyungsoo.

Determination flairs up inside of you, your jaw clenching as you strike him with a single, heated glare that read plain and simple ‘you. are. on.’ before honing all your attention onto the worksheet in front of you. It’s not too difficult to focus at first, to disregard the tingles that erupt across your skin where his hot touch sears into it. You manage to find and correct your error in one of the problems (impressive for you even if Kyungsoo wasn’t feeling your leg up under the table).

But whatever pride you find in doing so is quickly quelled when his hand suddenly shifts higher, and you feel the faintest pressure against your heat. It’s a sensation that robs you of your ability to breathe entirely for a handful of seconds, and you can’t stop the shiver that ripples down your spine.

This, you see, is one of the more recent developments in your oh-so complicated relationship with Doh Kyungsoo. Yet another that began with a disagreement at a party, over something you can’t even remember anymore thanks to the haze of alcohol that clouded both your minds at the time, that spiraled way out of proportion. You remember yelling at him, insulting him, stabbing your finger into his chest, feeling the sting of his lethal glare. God, he’d looked so pissed off, and you just fed off of it, fed off the rage and the frustration that festered like lava in those dark brown eyes. The angrier he got, the harder you pushed, until he finally snapped.

You’re still not sure what you expected to happen. What you expected him to do. But you sure as hell hadn’t anticipated him grabbing you by the throat and pulling you into one of the hottest, most mind numbing kisses you’d ever experienced.

Next thing you remember is being in a bed. Whose bed it was, isn’t important. What is important, however, is the fact that that night you had the best sex of your entire life with the man you thought you couldn’t stand.

Hate sex with Doh Kyungsoo opened your eyes to a whole new world of mind boggling pleasure that you’d never experienced before. Pleasure that no other person had ever been able to give you. God, the things he did to you. No one had ever touched you like that before. It was like he knew all the places on your body that made you unravel. He honestly ruined all other men for you that night because none have even come close to comparing. Which was beyond frustrating especially considering that, at the time, you thought it was a one time thing.

The morning after you both pretended that nothing happened. In the two weeks following as well, neither one of you mentioned it. You tried to erase the memory from your brain, tried to go back to normal, but it was hard considering every time you needed some sexual release (which was more often than you care to admit), it was his hands, his mouth, his cock that you imagined while you touched yourself. You replayed his moans in your head, his deep, rasping voice growling your name, and fuck, you never came harder.

But it was still nothing compared to the real thing.

As time passed you only grew more and more frustrated. Worst of all, you could tell he was feeling it too. It was obvious in the way he looked at you, with fire burning in eyes, in the way he spoke to you, with a pitch of something hot and wanting in his voice, in the way he lost his cool far quicker and far more often than he had in the past, your arguments fiercer and more frequent than they’d ever been. The tension between the two of you was palpable, thick enough to be cut with a knife. It got to the point where even your most oblivious of friends started noticing it as well, though they knew better than to voice their curiosity.

The second time it happened, you were both sober and, somehow, it was even better than you remembered. The pleasure was more intense, more overwhelming, a feeling you can’t even put into words. Then it kept happening. Late at night when he’d show up unannounced at your door. Early in the morning when you had an important exam later in the day and you needed some pre-test de-stressing. Between classes in the back seat of his car just because you could. At parties when your friends were too shit faced to notice the two of you slipping into an unoccupied bedroom.

Just sex. That’s what you both agreed to when it became blatantly obvious that your little ‘arrangement’ wouldn’t be coming to an end any time soon. No strings. Just sex. Just really, really good sex.

And that was perfectly fine by you.

Exhaling shakily through your nose, you try to block out the feeling of his thumb as it begins to caress gently up and down your clothed core, suddenly very grateful for the layers of fabric that separate you from his intoxicating touch. But it’s a gratitude that’s short lived. Just as you manage to adjust and scribble down a correction, he cups his hand over your mound and squeezes. A gasp escapes you, and you try to cover up the sound with a series of short coughs, the sting embarrassment intertwining with the warmth of pleasure as a few eyes briefly glance in your direction.

“You’re such an asshole.” You hiss under your breath, thighs tightening around his hand, locking it in place.

He throws you a lopsided grin, brows lifting and you don’t miss the glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “I’ve been called worse.” What he means is you’ve called him worse.

Your lips part, but any intelligible words die on the tip of your tongue as he grinds the heel of his palm down, directly against your clit. Your head drops, eyes squeezing shut, teeth locking down firmly on your lower lip in order to silence the soft moan that threatens to break free.

“F- fuck.”

You hear him coo tauntingly beside you at your slip, the tips of his skilled fingers easily locating your entrance and prodding experimentally. At this point, you don’t doubt he can feel the fabric of your leggings growing hot and wet with your arousal.

Despite being used to the quick effect he had on your body, you can help but to feel the slightest twinge of shame at how he was able to rile you up this much with little more than a few well-placed strokes of his fingers. But fuck, it felt so good. You’d already been feeling somewhat deprived since you’d both been so busy this past week with exams and projects and what not. This is the first time you’re spending time with him since almost a week ago.

And you are in need of a fix.

“You look like you’re having a bit of trouble on that problem. Do you need my help?” Kyungsoo leans into you, his face right up next to yours, and you have to resist the sudden urge to kiss him right then in there in front of everyone in the stupid library.

Instead, you grit out an unconvincing, “I’m fine,” and force yourself to stay focused on the dizzying mess of numbers and letters on the worksheet in front of you and not on the delicious warmth of his hand where it is applying just the right amount of pressure to keep you teetering between pleasure and the insatiable need for more.

“You sure?” There’s a certain lightness to his voice that tells you he is thoroughly enjoying watching you struggle. Sadistic bastard.

“Positive.”

And just like that, he’s gone. You almost gasp as a rush of cold air fills the places he had been, and you can’t help the frown that tugs at the corners of your lips, disappointment and irritation coloring your features before you can reel them in. From the corner of your eye, you chance a glance in his direction. The smug, knowing little smirk staining his lips sends a wave of heat pulsing into your cheeks, and you grit your teeth in frustration.

“So what, you’re just going to stop?” You whisper sharply, not making any attempt whatsoever to hide your annoyance.

A look of feigned innocence overcomes his features. “You said you didn’t need my help.”

You grit your teeth, glaring at him as hard as you can manage with how incredibly turned on you are. But he remains unfazed.

“If you want my help,” he continues, voice dropping an entire octave, “you’re going to have to ask for it... nicely.”

Nice wasn’t a word in your vocabulary when Kyungsoo was involved.

Seeing the resistance you are still putting up, he feathers his fingers over your thigh, tracing slow designs across the thin, black fabric. You swallow, unable to look away as they trail dangerously higher, teasing closer to where you both knew you wanted them most.

“You do want it, don’t you?”

Fuck, you want it so bad.

You know that he knows you want it. It’s just the getting yourself to actually say it out loud part that proves to be a challenge. But that’s exactly what he wants you to do, he wants to hear you say it, wants to see you cast aside your stubborn pride and beg for it. Beg for him.

Lifting your eyes, you glance unsurely around the library. It isn’t overly crowded anymore since most of the other students have begun to trickle out as late afternoon approaches. Plus, the table you were seated at was tucked into the far back corner of the room, secluded and out of the way. But still, your nerves buzzed at the thought of someone seeing. Though maybe — just maybe — there was a buzz of something else as well. Excitement, perhaps?

Grip tightening around your pencil, you chewed on the corner of your lip, refusing to meet Kyungsoo’s penetrating gaze as you let out a soft murmur. “...ease.”

He leans closer, mirth shimmering in his eyes. “What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you.”

Groaning, you shoot him a scowl, shoulders slumping in defeat. “Please help me, asshole.”

Laughter bubbles at his lips, the genuine kind that makes his cheeks lift and his nose wrinkle. You like it when he laughs like that. Makes him look a lot less like a serial killer.

Sinking his teeth into the pillowy flesh of his lower lip to stifle his laughter, he shoots you a lazy grin, “that’s all you had to say.”

Next thing you know, his hand is slipping beneath the elastic of your leggings and into the soft cotton confines of your underwear. Your mouth fell open, a sharp inhale filling your lungs with cold air as his fingers slid through your slick folds.

“I knew you were wet but shit.” He hisses, thick brows furrowing at the feeling of your heavy arousal coating the length of his digits. “I must say, I’m flattered.”

“Don’t be,” you breathe, eyes fluttering, “even Chanyeol can get me this— ngh!”

Without warning, he plunges his middle finger inside of you, and the remainder of your sentence pitches into a strangled moan. One look at his face, jaw clenched, nostrils flared, lips down turned, tells you he isn’t all too pleased at the mention of another man’s name, especially when he’s the one buried knuckle deep in your greedy cunt.

A hazy smirk curls onto your lips and you let out a low hum of pleasure, walls squeezing around him. “You’re sexy when you’re mad.”

“Is that why you enjoy pissing me off so much?” He questions, tone biting and low, and you shutter involuntarily as he rolls the pad of his thumb harshly over your aching clit.

“Partly.” You admit, somewhat breathless. “But you’re also just a really fun person to piss off.”

He chuckles dryly in response, though the sound lacks any genuine amusement. “You are such a brat, you know that?” He emphasizes the word by stretching you around a second finger, and you have to drop your pencil in favor of clasping your hand over your mouth, unable to swallow down the soft whimpers that tremble up your throat.

“You love it.” You manage to get out before you’re forced to bite into the tender flesh of your palm to muffle a desperate cry when the slow thrusts of his digits suddenly picks up speed. Your thighs squeeze around his hand, hips jerking up to grind your throbbing clit against the heel of his palm. Electricity ricochets through your veins, and you feel that distinctive tightening in the pit of your stomach. Kyungsoo also feels the way you throb and clench around him, and makes sure to grind down hard against your swollen clit.

Heat immediately spreads through your core, the intensity of the pleasure becoming more than you can handle. “Oh god, Kyungsoo.” Your voice comes out louder than you intended, and you quickly duck your head, doing your best to make it seem like you’re focusing on your work and not the fingers drilling relentlessly into your g-spot, praying to god that no one had seen the blissed out expression on your face. Still, you can’t help the quiet whine that escapes you when his ministrations slow.

“Are you trying to get us caught?” He asks in less than a whisper, breath hot against the shell of your ear. “Ever hear of subtlety?”

“Ever hear of suck my dick?” You snap back without missing a beat, only to jolt as his fingers curl inside of you, pressing directly against that sensitive bundle of nerves. Every muscle in your body tenses, and fuck you’re so close you can almost taste it. Frantically, you thrust your hips, desperately trying to fuck yourself down on his digits.

“Sit still.” He growls, and you quiver when he sinks his teeth into the lobe of your ear, obeying only because you really don’t want to get banned from the campus library if someone happened to catch on.

“Soo— fuck,” the force with which you bite into your lip is nearly about to break the skin, but you can’t be bothered by the pain, not with how quickly your orgasm was approaching. Sensing as much, Kyungsoo goes the extra mile of drawing hard, fast figure eights over your clit with his thumb while simultaneously thrusting his fingers into you so fast that you swear you can almost hear it.

All at once fire roars through your veins, euphoria consuming you as your high crashes over you. Your walls spasm around his digits, painting them with your release.

He doesn’t withdraw from you until you go slack, thighs spreading, body slumping back in your chair, eyes fluttering as a hazy, blissed out smile touches your lips. You can only watch through hooded lids as he brings his glistening fingers to his mouth, sighing in amazement as he sucks them clean. There’s a twinge of arousal in your core as he moans softly at the taste of you on his tongue, a downright lethal sound that somehow manages to rouse your positively spent pussy.

This man is going to be the absolute death of you one of these days.

“Fuck.” You chuckle airily, heady gaze flickered over him lazily, only to do a double take when you notice something standing upright beneath the zipper of his jeans. The corners of your lips twirled into a mirthful grin, eyebrows raising slowly.

“Need some help with that?”

“Yes.” He answers shamelessly and without hesitation, grunting softly as he adjusts himself in the tight confines of his jeans to make the raging hard-on he’s sporting somewhat less obvious. “But not here.”

“I figured. So... your car or mine?”

“Didn’t you just get a new one with reclining seats?” He questions, running the tip of his tongue over the seam of his lip at the mere implication.

You strike him with a wicked grin, already beginning to shove your things into your bag. “I did indeed.”

“Then what are we— wait.”

“What?”

“You didn’t finish correcting the worksheet yet.” He points out, drumming his fingers across the paper that had completely slipped your mind.

You pull a face, pausing in the act of gathering your belongings long enough to cross your arms pointedly over your chest. “No offense, Kyungsoo, sweetheart, but I’d much rather suck your dick than do one more of those stupid fucking calc problems.”

His brows leap to his hairline, and he offers a single nod of acceptance, in no position to argue with such a valid point.

“Noted.”

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realcube · 3 years

Text

CRYBABY (1 / 2) | tsukishima k

♡ alt fluff ending (1 / 2) of jealous — alt angst ending ( 2 / 2 )

♡ tw crying, unspecified injury, reverse hurt/comfort, mentions of violence, swearing, rude nicknames & set in a hospital

“Kei, hello? I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now but Yamaguchi told me that you were here and..I just wanted you to know that I, uh, am really sorry and I hope you get well soon.”

tsukishima felt like shit. he woke up with a splitting headache, which was only worsened by the bright beam of the LEDs which hung right above his hospital bed. it took him a few moments to become fully conscious but when he heard the irritating beeping of the ECG, his first coherent thought was, ‘wow, i can’t believe a fist fight with the king still has me hospitalised. how embarrassing.’

little did he know, kageyama was in the infirmary room right next to his own, being treated for his broken ankle and nose.

tsukishima wasn’t spared another second to pity himself as his sore head snapped around to meet the gaze of whoever was lingering at the door, “hello?” he called out, squinting to try make out the looming figure before feeling around the side table for his glasses, “come in.”

That voice was unmistakable.

his blood ran cold, suddenly feeling extremely dizzy and sick. “(y/n).” he muttered under his breath in disbelief, as he was finally able to get a clutch on his glasses and push them up the bridge of his nose, easing his headache slightly.

“oh, thanks.” he croaked, his throat dry from both waking up and your presence. if he being completely honest, he hardly processed a word you said; as soon as he realised it was you talking, his mind was just flooded with emotions, feelings and memories alike. hardly any of them were bad — except for the more recent ones — yet he still felt an overwhelming wave of sadness which he had no choice but to hide.

“so are you just going to stand there or are you going to come in?” he inquired, concealing his regret with sass, which was all to convincing since it was a usual practise for tsukishima by now. in fact, that’s exactly what had gotten him into this situation.

you inhaled sharply, shocked by the fact that he actually wanted you to stay as you’ve been under the impression that he hates you, which is understandable considering his recent actions. hesitantly, you emerged from behind the curtain that separated the bed he lay in from the door, your heart sinking upon seeing the state he lay in; out of the many years you had been friend with him, this is the worst you’ve ever seen him. pasty, chapped lips, bloodshot eyes, messy hair and extremely scrawny, yet you couldn’t help but admire him for pushing through none the less. in your eyes, he’s still beautiful — but he’d never believe you if you told him — and he thought the exact same about you.

“how, um, how are you?” you stuttered, shuffling awkwardly as you took a seat in the chair that was already placed beside the bed. the same chair that his brother had sat in yesterday and him mother the day before that.

“what do you think?” he scoffed, gesturing to his current state and injury that was highlighted by the thick, white cast.

your eyes widened, being hit once again by the harsh reality that he was no longer your friend. “i- i don’t even know why i asked.” you murmured, voice meek and shaky enough to catch the attention of tsukishima, who also forgot that he was supposed to dislike you.

his comment wasn’t intended to be rude but in context, he could completely understand why you thought that — however, that’s just the type of guy he is. looking at your disheartened expression, he felt his own fall to resemble it. maybe kageyama did knock some sense into the blonde as he was now able to thinking clearly, recollect on how poorly he treated you and wonder why he did those things.

truly, he wanted nothing more to apologise. to tell you how awful he was and that he doesn’t hate you, quite the opposite actually! he needed to let you know that you did nothing wrong and everything bad that happened was his fault and he was willing to take full responsibility. but of course, his pride didn’t let him. all he was able to utter was, “did you check up on kageyama?”

it was a harmless question, or so he thought. just innocently inquiring about the wellbeing of his teammate and your ex, so why were tears rolling down your cheeks? and why did he feel the urge to cry too?

“yeah, but it was really awkward.”

tsukishima cheek heated up with both annoyance and at the fact your hand was now resting upon his, “why are you crying then?!” he snapped, angrily intertwining his fingers with yours, not thinking much of it, “you made it seem like he died or something!”

“why are you crying?!”

“i’m not fucking crying!” he was crying. crystalline tears running down his cheek tickling his pale skin.

outstretching your arm, you brushed your finger against his face to wipe away his tear then proceed to show him how the pad of your index finger glistened under the intense room light. “yes, you are, crybabyshima!” you half-cried, half-laughed, resulting in tsukishima hunching over to cackle at the nickname.

“i’m crying at how stupid you are!” he tired to hiss but he really couldn’t take himself seriously, involuntarily punctuating each word with a chuckle or wheeze.

“watch it, kei. the stupid one of us is in a hospital bed.”

he quirked a brow, breathing frantically from having just laughed his lungs out, “uh, yeah. because of stupidest one’s boyfriend.” he didn’t even know if what he was saying made sense or not, as his main priority was trying to catch his breath.

“ex boyfriend.” you corrected, both of you becoming uncomfortably aware that you were still holding hands at the same time, yet neither of you dared to move an inch. you sniffled while wiping your cheek with the sleeve of your jacket, “kageyama told me what happened. it was vague but he said that you attacked him because he cheated on me, is that what really happened?”

his memory of the event was as hazy as that description. although, that sounded about right but now that he heard it aloud, he realised how pathetic it sounded so obviously he didn’t want to admit to that sort of behaviour. “i don’t remember.”

“it doesn’t sound like you.” your voice was hushed, as if he was going to scold you if you spoke up. “so what do you remember?”

the headache that was previously preventing him from doing any deep thinking had now somewhat dissipated, allowing his to avert his gaze onto the hospital floor as he hummed in thought, “the last thing i remember clearly was walking to school the night after you-” he gulped, the horrible memories suddenly flooding into his mind, making his lips twitch into a frown as he recalled all the nasty things he said to you, “the night after you called me.”

you nodded, the memories not treating you kindly either as all you were able to do was mouth an ‘oh’.

“listen, (y/n).” tsukishima started, the sight of your dejected aura prompting him to finally, partially, speak his mind. “i’m sorry about what i said. i don’t even know why i said it so i don’t have an explanation..i’m just sorry.” he didn’t expect forgiveness, in all honesty. if the roles were reverse, he was unsure as to whether he’d forgive you or not. well, he probably would but still, that’s just because he’s fallen so he doesn’t expect the same leeway from you.

but to his surprise, your expression softened as you cooed, “it’s fine, kei.” with a shrug, absentmindedly stroking the back of his hand with your thumb. “i somewhat forgive you.”

his eyes basically popped out of their sockets, “what?” he almost instantly blurted out, looking at you as if you had gone mad. “why?” there was slight disgust laced in his voice, but that was as expected of him so you didn’t read to much into it.

“because you’re hot.” you joked with an eyeroll, taken back by the audacity he had to question your decision, “why do you care? just be thankful that we can be friends again!” you chirped but his grimace wiped the smile clean off you face.

he genuinely would’ve been more content if you had just stopped after your first statement. i mean, you looked at him like he was your world, even when he was laying beaten on a hospital bed, and the way your thumb gently stoked the back of his frail, calloused hand like it was treasure resulted in butterflies erupting in his stomach. was that just you being friendly?

“you really are stupid.” he tutted, averting his gaze from your watery eyes as it would do nothing more than evoke unneeded and unappreciated emotions within him. “i think i’ve made it exceeding clear that i don’t want to be your friend.” despite his efforts, his words still sounded unsure and a light blush kept creeping onto his features.

a gasp escaped your lips, your eyebrows furrowing as you immediately felt a surge of impenetrable rage shoot through your body, “why not?! i thought we were getting on like old times.” after the initial rush of adrenaline subsided, you found yourself sulking, slumping back in your chair and crossing your arms over your chest like a child. you just wanted things to go back to the way they were before, was that too much to ask? or did he truthfully detest you? and if that’s the case, why was he holding your hand so tightly, refusing to let go?

“idiot, i mean i want to be your boyfriend.” the last word was spoken meekly, as if it was a curse. “i didn’t think i’d have to spell it out for you but i guess i shouldn’t have overestimated your intelligence.” ironic, considering that you didn’t have to be a genius to figure out that he was joking. you had known him for long enough to be aware that he was physically incapable of giving a compliment without following it up with sarcasm or an insult.

it was as if someone had lit a blast furnace underneath your chair as you felt your whole body heat up to an uncomfortable extend, instantly aware of your hand in his you felt your palm become clammy — or perhaps that was his — either way, you were quick to yank away, leaving tsukishima extremely confused and oddly offended.

“kei..” you breathed, mind completely blank, “why?”

“what do you mean? i don’t know why.” this whole week has been a roller-coaster of emotions for him and now he was trying to finally bail himself out but you weren’t making it any easier, but at the end of the day, he only had himself to blame as you’d probably be a lot more forthcoming if it wasn’t for his past attitude.

there was a part of him that was ready to gush on to you about how warm you make him, how your touch sends butterflies through his body, how your general demeanour makes him feel as though he could entrust his whole life to you but his pride wouldn’t allow him to express said thoughts.

but fortunately, he didn’t need to elaborate as your finger found his jaw, tilting it upwards so he’d meet your reassuring gaze, “i’d love to. we could go to that dessert place near your house and get that couple’s discount! well, when you recover, of course.”

poor, simp tsukki didn’t even try to resist the smile his lips curled into as your minty breath tickled his skin. “i ask you out and the first thing you think about is dessert? typical.”

smirking, you leaned in to pinch his cheek but immediately jerked backwards when he winced, “ah, i’m sorry! old habits die hard.” you chuckled awkwardly, feeling a resurgence of the previous heat when he kissed the back of your hand to show no hard feelings.

“it’s fine. but as an apology, stay with me for a while.” he said, his eyes fixated on the window by his bed. his hand subconsciously finding it’s way into yours once again.

#haikyuu x gender neutral reader #tsukishima scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu tsukishima #tsukishima oneshot #haikyuu x gn!reader #tsukishima imagine #tsukishima fluff #hq tsukishima #tsukishima x y/n #tsukishima x you #tsukishima x reader #hq fluff #haikyuu!!#👾fluff

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eclipsedpascal · 3 years

Text

Fucking your stress away

Duncan Shepherd x female reader

You surprised a stressed out duncan when you stopped by his office for lunch, but there was a different type of hunger you needed to satisfy.

Warnings: daddy kink, degrading, mocking, hair pulling, unprotected sex, cockwarming, slightly public sex (they’re in an office) anddd sex being overheard by others.

hi!! i have another duncan fic i’ve been working on that’s like 8k long so far, but I’ve not been able to add anything new to it for the past week without criticising myself too much:/ meaning the random burst of inspiration i received last night was directed into this quick thing instead:)

word count: 2k

••••••••

The soft clicking of Duncan’s finger tips tapping across his computer keyboard filled the silence of his spacious office. You were sat, skirt pulled up over your hips as you perched on his lap with his cock seated deep inside of your cunt.

You had visited him for lunch, wanting to surprise him at work. You hoped it might ease some of the stress he had been under the past few weeks.

Just last night, the two of you had spent hours lying in bed together, limbs tangled and intwined whilst he ranted onto you about how tedious his time at the office had become recently. With his uncle bill constantly nagging on and on about how he thought their app would be best utilised, he had been under a lot of pressure.

You knew Duncan loved his work, but sometimes he simply refused to let himself rest, telling himself he just couldn't until his work was completed. So here you were, making sure he received a much needed break.

“Ah ah, no fidgeting, sweetheart.” He mindlessly grazed his hand over your thigh, reminding you of his previous requests whilst reading what you assumed to be an email.

Of course, it had been his idea for you to cockwarm him, it not being the first thought of yours when considering how to best help him relax. But you definitely weren’t going to complain.

When he first suggested it, you had been sitting in his lap with your legs dangling over his own, the both of you conversing about how your day had gone so far as you ate lunch together. But with the way he kept looking into your eyes and stroking his fingers through your hair so sensually, you just couldn't help but wiggle and grind your ass down onto his crotch a little, hoping he might give you something more.

No matter how long the two of you had been together, Duncan had always seemed to know exactly which buttons he had to press for you to melt in his hands, which made convincing you to do this far easer on his part.

He told you if you just sat on his cock, stayed motionless and silent until he had finished going through the emails he had received before midday, he would give you that something more that you were wanting.

So you had been sat here for what felt like hours now, through realistically, it was probably only about 20 minutes, going unsatisfied for so long was dragging every second out into an eternity. I mean you didn’t mind too much, knowing this was what he needed right now; but still, even the slightest bit of movement from him would have been appreciated.

“Mhhm but Dunnnc! You said you wouldn’t be too long!” you pouted, throwing your head back against his shoulder in a strop, your breathe tickling his stubbled cheek as you whined to him.

“I still have a few more emails to reply to yet Y/N, be patient.” His indifference and calmness almost annoyed you, not really understanding how he could possibly control himself this well within your current shared predicament.

“Fine.” you sighed, resting your forehead against the side of his face so you could wait for him to finish a little more comfortably.

You watched as he wrote out each email, secretly admiring how dedicated he was to his work even when it was causing him so much distress.

You could see him thinking, his lips all scrunched up like a rosebud, they always did that when he was concentrated. You adored it.

“Fucking Bill, he can never just make things easy.” He murmured to himself, massaging his forehead and shifting slightly in his seat, the fiction of it causing a small mewl to fall from your lips.

He chuckled. “Quiet, little one.”

“Mm sorry, daddy. You’re just taking so long and I really reallyyy want you.” You rolled your hips as you spoke, feeling his shaft pressing up into cervix even more that before, and sent him the best puppy dog eyes you could muster.

You couldn’t wait for him any longer, this need fuelled haze had taken over your mind completely.

A low growl sounded from deep in his chest as he grabbed onto your hips, turning his head to shoot daggers into your eyes from his own. “All I asked was that you be patient, Y/N. But you can't even do that, can you?” He lifted your hips up before slamming them back down onto his own.

“Ahhh!-” Digging your nails into the edge of his desk as to steady yourself, you bite down onto your lip, not wanting Duncan’s receptionist to hear anything of what the two of you were up to.

“Well I suppose you have been waiting for 30 minutes now, maybe i’m being unfair on you.” He quietly questioned himself, his hands sliding up to play with the dip of your waist.

“Please, Duncan. Please” You begged him now, coaxing him to fuck you like he had promised.

Taking a hold of your hair, he pulled your head to the side and began to kiss and suckle on the exposed skin of your neck. He thrust up into you again, letting a strangled moan escape his throat.

Though he wouldn't admit it, Duncan had been struggling to keep himself composed just as much as you had. Picturing how beautifully fucked out you would look pressed up against his desk with his cock slamming in and out of you wasn't an easy thought for him to dismiss.

“You know, I do love it when you beg, sweetheart.” He lifted you up again, pushing you forward just enough that he could begin his assault on your cunt.

“Fuck!” He thrusted himself into you, drawing back slowly and watching his thick cock slip out of your folds almost completely, before forcing it back in and setting his rocky pace.

You couldn't hold in your moans, too caught up in the stream of pleasure gushing onto you to stop yourself from screaming. He pulled the chair out slightly, your arms becoming outstretched as to not let yourself loose the balance you had on his desk whilst staying firmly on his lap.

Every hit against your cervix made you cry out, the tears brimming in your eyes threatening to spill with every movement he made.

The two of you did this all the time. Fucking in his office. But usually it would consist of you lazily riding him, your sweaty body bouncing on top of his own and your lips caressing each others as you breathed one another in, but this? This was something else entirely.

All of the stress that had amounted from having to run gardener analytics with his family’s constant nagging the past few weeks, was now being channeled into railing you. Your soft cries did nothing to deter the speed at which he was pumping himself into you.

His desk’s phone started ringing, making you jump at thought of him answering right then, but he never did. His pace not faltering, he didn’t even bother checking who it was calling, far too focused on the euphoria your tight heat was giving him.

“Such a slut. Coming to see daddy at work just so he could ruin this sweet little cunt of yours, didn’t you?” He belittled you, his words only serving to turn you on more.

“Yes I- I want you to.. ahhh!” He stopped hammering into you momentarily, raising himself upwards until hips were pushed flush against your ass, making you take every inch of him. “I want you to ruin me daddy!!”

“That’s right baby.” He continued moving, his hands still attached to your hips as he fucked into you with full force.

His fingers were going to leave bruises, that much you were sure of, but getting to hear all of his grunts and groans whilst he got himself off using you was definitely worth it.

Amongst the sound of skin slapping and your delicate cries, you heard two knocks at the door. Duncan ceased his pounding, pulling you back to sit on his lap properly and adjusting your skirt as he waited to hear further from the knocking’s perpetrator.

“Uhm, Mr Shepherd?” A muffled voice came from the other side of the door. It was Duncans new assistant, Alex. He must have heard the two of you.

“What is it Alex? I’m busy.” You both waited in silence, praying Alex didn’t decide to come in.

“Uh Seth- Seth Greyson is on the line for you, he says it's important.” He sounded hesitant, and you knew that he would usually enter the room to give Duncan that kind of information. Meaning he had definitely heard you.

“Then tell him he'll just have to wait.” Duncan shouted now, clearly just wanting to get back to fucking you, and upon hearing the pitter patter of Alex’s footsteps as he walked away, that’s exactly what he did.

though his thrusts were sloppier now, almost uncaring as he snaked his hand over your thigh to flick your clit seemingly as fast as he could.

“Almost got caught there didn’t we, sweetheart?” He scoffed, His voice gruff, breathy and punctuated by his thrusts.

“And wouldn't that have been something.” You quipped back, finding relief in not being walked in on.

Your words were quickly followed by a scream, getting closer to finishing.

The motion of his finger circling against your clit was going straight to your stomach, creating a pressure so intense you knew you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from cumming even if you tried.

“Mhm daddy.. i’m gonna cum!!” You did your best to warn him, knowing it wouldn't be long now until you came, but luckily he didn't seem too far away either. His speed had picked up even more somehow, and his moaning had grown louder and more erratic.

“Yeah are you gonna cum baby? Gonna cum all over daddy’s fucking cock?” He yelled out, obviously not caring if Alex, or anyone else for that matter, could hear you; Neither of you did now. So washed up with your own release’s that nothing else mattered.

“Yes daddy.. ahhh i’m cumming!!” Your legs began to tremble upon letting go, your walls clenching around Duncan and pushing him over the edge.

“Aghh fuck Y/N!” He shot his hot ropes of seed into you, crashing his hips to a still whilst he caught his breathe and gently pulled you back down to sit on his softening cock.

Resting your head on his shoulder once more, you stared across the room, feeling the warmth of his flushed skin on yours, considering the act the two of you had just partaken in.

“So that what definitely something” you smiled and stood up, pulling your panties back up your legs and fixing your skirt as you watched Duncan thread his belt back through the loops of his pants.

“Hm. I just hope Alex can look me in the eye after this” he chuckled, thinking of how awkward the poor man must have felt talking to him, after surely hearing all the obscene noises coming from the pair of you. You giggled at the thought, crawling back onto his lap and planting a much needed, tender kiss on his lips.

“Shit, I should probably call back Seth.” He frowned, reminding himself of all the emails and calls he was yet to make. He pulled the chair closer to the desk and started to dial for Seth, but then stopped to look at you.

His hand moved to cradle your cheek, his eyes darting back at forth at yours with an admiration so bright it sparkled in his irises. “Thanks for coming in today baby. I really needed that.” He stated the obvious.

You leaned into his hand, smiling back at him with a mirrored love. “Mhmm I know. I think you should fuck your stress away with me more often.”

••••••••

some tags: @ntxoza @blakescoven @ghostangels @dark-mei-rose @sojournmichael @jimmason @fernfiction @brattylovee @7-wonders @angelicmichael @melodylangdon @instincts-baby lemme know if you want to be added or removed! cuz i just kinda guessed who i thought might want to read it😌

#duncan shepherd #duncan shepherd x reader #duncan shepherd smut #duncan shepherd fic #duncan shepherd x you #my writing #stressed out daddy duncan🥺#cody fern

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tsukishumai · 3 years

Text

Chemical Reaction - Kuroo Tetsuro

Summary: When the universe hands you a second chance, will you be able to move on from the mistakes of your past?

college!Kuroo x fem!reader

a friends to friends w/ benefits to lovers type of deal.

Warnings: some light NSFW, slow burn, aged up characters, mentions of smoking, mentions of alcohol, fingering, cursing, and a little heartbreak. angst to fluff

Word Count: 7.3k (it goes by fast, I swear (′ꈍωꈍ‵))

A/N: Jesus... this started out as a prompt, but it snowballed into whatever the hell this is. And it was supposed to be done by Kuroo’s bday T-T but better late than never! I poured in a lil extra love into this, pls give it a shot, lmk what you think, and I hope you enjoy !

Your history with Kuroo Tetsuro went back a little bit further than you’d like to admit.

He had been in your class for all three years you were at Nekoma, but you had really only popped onto each other’s radars second year.

He had been assigned the seat next to you, and while you were upset that your best friend, Eri, had been sat all the way across the room, you didn’t exactly mind the view.

Right off the bat, you knew this was going to be trouble for you.

The guy was cute, funny, and smart. How hadn’t you noticed him before?

“Hey, L/N-chan,” he said, already making you blush with the addition of the honorific, “I have many chemistry jokes… but I’m afraid they won’t get a good reaction!”

You couldn’t stop either the face palm or the giggle that slipped out of your lips.

Kuroo was an easy person to get along with. He always greeted you in the mornings, and never really bothered you during class. On the rare occasion he stayed in the classroom for lunch, the two of you would strike up a conversation, but it never went past the surface.

Until about halfway through the school year. Your teacher had assigned a project that required a partner.

You looked to Eri, only to find the little traitor pairing up with the guy she had been eyeing since first year.

You sighed, not even mad at her for trying to shoot her shot.

“Want to be partners?” your head shot to the boy next to you.

“Uhm. Sure!”

And so it went like this; the project was due at the end of the year, requiring a research paper, and a 7 minute power point presentation.

Once or twice a week, the two of you would meet up at the school library either before school or after your club activities.

Kuroo was smart; smarter than you but you’d never say that to his face, so more often than not, the two of you would finish what needed to be done that day, and spent the rest of the time just talking, and getting to know each other.

By the third time the two of you had gotten kicked out by the librarian for laughing too much, Kuroo suggested meeting at his house on the weekends.

Surely that doesn’t mean what you think it means right???

It doesn’t, lmao. This guy was a good student, he made sure you guys finished your parts, because there was no way he was going to get anything less than an A.

Oh, you guys finished a little early today? Great! L/N-chan! Help me with my receives!

As the weeks pass by, there was a mutual progression in the relationship, neither of you seeing each other as project partners anymore, and falling into a comfortable friendship.

For Kuroo, that is. You, on the other hand, just became way too good at acting like you weren’t falling in love.

The school year is coming to a close, and you turn in your project.

Surprise, surprise! You guys got an A.

Seriously, the teacher said she was going to start using it as an example for the future students.

You couldn’t even be happy about your passing grade; you were too sad that your time with Kuroo was ending.

“Well, it was really fun being your partner this year,” you said, and Kuroo cocked an eyebrow at you.

“Why do you sound like someone’s dying,” he joked, “Anyway, Kenma said he bought a new game, but it’s multiplayer. What time are you coming this weekend?”

Bitch, ya heart nearly jumped out of your chest.

For a little while, you were content with things being like that. You had become good friends with not just Kuroo, but Kenma as well. You guys weren’t always together, but definitely made a point to make time for each other.

While you guys were usually busy during the week, club activities, homework and school taking up most of your time, Saturdays at Kuroo’s had become a thing well into your third year. As much as possible, you would try to attend his games, and he would try to bring you snacks when he knows you’re stuck studying.

You tried really hard not to read into the things he would do for you.

Surely, he’s also held Kenma’s bag while walking him home, right?

He’s memorized his whole team’s schedule; it’s nothing special if he also has yours memorized.

You know that he only brought you lunch today because he had to share half of his when you forgot yours.

All normal friend stuff, right! Right?!

“I met a cute girl the other day,” he said to you absentmindedly one morning before class.

Wait. Your chest shouldn’t feel so tight, should it? Your eyes are swimming, and your head is floating. Every breath feels like lead in your lungs, and you kinda wished the ground would swallow you whole.

“Oh, Really?” you tried to be nonchalant, and hoped he didn’t notice the shakiness in your voice.

He nodded. “Yeah… she’s kinda funny.”

But you were really funny, weren’t you? You were the one that made him laugh like a hyena, made him clutch his stomach and gasp for breath, right?

“Is that so?” your mouth felt like sandpaper, “Why don’t you try taking her out on a date?”

You wish you had never said those words.

You knew the girl he was talking about; you had seen Kuroo approach her in the hallway.

She was your teammate in the track and field club; not one of the fastest, but she was beautiful, kind, friendly, and Kuroo was right – she really was kind of funny.

“You should have told him first, you know,” Kenma had mumbled from next to you once, eyes never leaving his game while yours quickly shot him a glare.

It was just the two of you at the lunch table – Kuroo mumbling an excuse about having plans with another “friend”.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Kenma just rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

You spend the next few weeks avoiding him; it was easier since he didn’t sit next to you in class anymore, you weren’t really replying to his texts as often, you stopped visiting him and Kenma at practice, and you had missed the game you had told them you would try to go to.

You were kind of starting to realize that it was mostly you that had to go and seek them out.

Now that you weren’t doing these things… where was he?

You would catch a glimpse of Kuroo when he would visit your teammate during practice; he would try to greet you but you’d only shoot him a tight smile.

So when you heard a loud knock on your door at eight o clock in the evening, the last person you expected was the roosterhead himself.

“Hey,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I could tell something was bothering you, and I’ve been trying to give you your space, but… it’s been weeks now so, I just have to know… Are you avoiding me?”

You didn’t really know what to say, if there is even anything else to. Even with your head down and eyes trained to your feet, you could feel the burn of his gaze.

“I...” the deep timbre of his voice always managed to give you chills, “I miss you.”

Is he fucking serious right now? He’s so smart, yet he can’t put two and two together? He can see his opponents’ moves before they happen, yet he can’t even see you standing right in front of him?

“I have feelings for you, Kuroo,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

Kuroo’s eyes widened by a fraction, his mouth slightly hung agape, dumbfounded by your seemingly random confession.

Except, it wasn’t random to you. You’ve been harboring these feelings for months, and after hurting yourself by staying silent for so long, you decided that you deserve better.

You’ll accept whatever the outcome, if that’s the price for your peace.

“Y/N…” it took him a long time to finally speak, and you try to ignore the fact that this is the first time he’s called you by your first name.

His face clearly showed his struggle to get the words out. “I’m sorry, I didn’t… I –“

You raised your hand. You didn’t really want to hear any more than that.

“It’s okay,” you said, giving him a small smile.

And with that, you shut the door on Kuroo Tetsuro.

You do your best to move on, smiling and laughing with friends you wouldn’t usually talk to you, ignoring the ghost of your past that haunt you every time you walked passed by Kuroo and your teammate down the hall.

You throw back a laugh at whatever the person next to you had said, turning away to miss the fact that Kuroo’s eyes always followed you wherever you went.

Graduation day came and in the blink of an eye, your days at Nekoma were behind you.

The days passed, the seasons changed, the flowers bloomed, and then they died.

You started university, moving to a different city and living with the very same best friend whose betrayal to quench her own thirst became the catalyst for your greatest heartbreak.

You’ve forgiven her for that though, you guess.

Life in college was the breath of fresh air that you needed.

New things to learn, new places to discover, and new faces to help you forget the scars of old ones.

Years pass by, and while you’ve allowed yourself to feel the touch of others, allow them to make you laugh, allow them to make you cry, you’ve never really allowed yourself the luxury of falling in love again.

Who has time for that any way?

Definitely not you. You just needed to finish your undergrad, and get into med school.

You had plans for your life, you weren’t going to compromise your dreams just for another person, and no matter whom you dated or how much they liked you, this fact had always rubbed them the wrong way.

You were finally starting your last year at your undergrad, quite possibly one of the most important years of college, what with your thesis, med school applications, and your entire future pretty much on the line, no big deal.

Your first class of the day was chemistry. You had been avoiding the last chemistry class required by your degree, all of your friends telling you that it was one of the hardest classes they’ve ever taken, and so naturally, you ran away for as long as possible.

The class wasn’t due to start for another fifteen minutes when you walked in, giving you a perfect opportunity to grab a seat of your liking.

You ended up choosing one in the third row – you knew that if you sat in the back, you wouldn’t pay attention.

You take out your laptop, books, and all required materials, using this free time to check any emails from your professors.

You were checking the time – 5 minutes left until class started – when you were interrupted.

“L/N-chan?”

Your feel your body stiffen up at the sound of a voice you hadn’t heard in years.

You turn your head to your left, hoping to all the gods that maybe you were mistaken.

“Kuroo?” you said in disbelief, and oh honey… you could not believe he was standing right before you.

Kuroo seemed like he hadn’t changed at all. His hair seemed a little bit more managed, he was a little bit taller, his muscles filled out his shirt better… but he still had the same goofy smile on his face, and that undeniably mischievous twinkle in his eye.

“What are you doing here?” you blurted out. “I thought you went to a university in Tokyo?”

“I did, but I transferred this year,” he said, “This university has a great marketing program.”

“I can’t believe it,” you mumble out, more so to yourself than him, “It’s been years.”

He gave you a smile. “It has.”

He took the seat next to you, much to your surprise. You almost wanted to open your mouth in protest, but what could you say? ‘You can’t sit there’?

You were thankful that the class had only gone over the syllabus, because you didn’t hear a word the professor said.

When you told Eri about it later, she just laughed.

“I always thought Kuroo-san was a nice guy,” she commented, her back turned while she cooked the both of you dinner.

“I never said he wasn’t,” you said, throwing back the rest of the wine in your glass.

“What, you still like him or something?” Eri teased, plating the noodles she had created and setting it in front of you.

“Of course not,” you grumbled, stabbing at the plate with a fork, and the amused look on Eri’s face tells you that her silence was just to placate you.

The next few weeks of the semester went by without any incident.

Kuroo stayed in the seat next to you, and you didn’t let yourself wonder why.

You were proud at yourself for being able to talk to Kuroo the way that you were; he still made the same stupid chemistry jokes in high school, but now you felt like you could laugh at them without choking on the air around you.

It was easy.

Until it wasn’t.

“Alright everyone,” your professor began one rainy morning, “We’re about halfway through the semester, and this is usually around the time I like to assign a little project.”

All of a sudden, you felt a strange feeling of déjà vu.

“Now, it’s only going to be worth about a third of your grade in the class, so I suggest not slacking off on this one. This is going to require a partner, and before you go texting your bestie that you want to ‘link up’, I’ve taken the liberty of assigning your partner for you.”

Oh, Christ. You were praying you wouldn’t get partnered up with a dead weight.

“When I call your name, raise your hand so I could introduce you to your new partner.”

You waited patiently for your name to be called, but Kuroo’s had been called first.

“Kuroo Testuro.”

Kuroo raised his hand.

“Your partner will be... let’s see here… ah, L/N F/N!”

No. No fucking way.

Your arm involuntarily raised, the professor nodding his head in acknowledgement.

You slowly turn to face Kuroo, who had an unreadable smile placed on his lips, your professor’s voice droning on in the background.

“Well,” he said, laughter laced in his words, “Isn’t this familiar?”

At first, you felt incredibly apprehensive at the thought of being partnered with your high school crush, but at the end of the day, you were actually incredibly thankful.

Kuroo was just as smart and diligent as he was back then, and you had every confidence that your project was going to get the highest grade.

You tried to make it a point to meet in public places – cafes, libraries, and the like.

But soon, Kuroo suggested that it would just be easier and more comfortable to meet at either your place or his.

He only ever came by when Eri was home too, which would have been fine if the smirk on her face didn’t make you so nervous.

You noticed that his roommate was always around when you came over as well. You learned his name was Bokuto, and though he was a little loud, his presence was actually a little comforting.

Honestly, it all felt so… nostalgic. Whenever you would finish your work for the day, then the two of you would spend the time talking, catching up, and laughing at stupid jokes, almost as if the two of you were friends again.

Almost like nothing happened between you at all.

“Hey,” you started one day, curiosity getting the better of you after a particularly steamy conversation about past relationships, sitting on the floor with your iPad on your lap and homework strewn about all over the living room floor, “Whatever happened between you and that girl from high school?”

Kuroo just gave you a sad smile, and you thought she must have broken his heart pretty badly.

“Oh that…” he waved it off, “That was a mistake. A big one.”

You figured it was better not to ask any more questions.

Eri walked out of her room soon after Kuroo left that night, her arms crossed and leaning against the door’s archway as she watched you wash the dishes.

You guys are getting pretty close,” she mused.

She couldn’t see you roll your eyes. “Well, yeah, we were pretty good friends in high school.”

Eri let out a humorless laugh. “I stand by my statement that Kuroo-san is a nice guy,” she said, walking up next to you to place a hand on your shoulder, “But I haven’t forgotten how long it took you to get over what happened.”

Your hands stilled in the soapy water for a second, but you chose not to say anything.

“I’m just saying,” Eri started to walk back to her room, calling out her last words behind her shoulder, “Be careful.”

Eri’s words echoed in your head whenever you were with Kuroo.

Every time he offered to pay for your food, you made sure to insist you’d pay for it yourself. If he tried to grab your bag from your shoulder when you walked, you’d hold on tighter and say you were fine.

You didn’t avoid him like you did before, but you made every attempt to keep him at arm’s length.

It seems your attempts were all for nothing, however, when the semester ended.

“Amazing job,” were the words that came from your professor when giving your passing grade.

“We did it,” Kuroo said happily, the two of you making your way out of the class, “It’s finally over.”

“Thank god,” you laughed back.

“Hey,” Kuroo started, though he was looking at everywhere but you, “Bokuto’s gone and visiting his boyfriend for the weekend, but I was wondering if you wanted to come over for drinks later?”

You blinked, trying to even your breathing.

“You know, to celebrate the end of the semester, and acing that nightmare class.”

You should say no, right? Wait, but you’re grown now. You’ve moved on from what happened back then. The two of you did work really hard this semester, what’s wrong with celebrating your achievements?

“I think we’ve earned it,” Kuroo laughed.

“Yeah,” you said, and you were glad for it just from the smile that spread on his stupid face, “We really have! I’ll be there.”

“See you at eight?”

You nodded at his words as he waved goodbye, going your separate ways.

Ten hours later, you were sitting next to Kuroo on his living room floor, sake cup full to the brim as BNHA plays on his TV.

“Ah, Deku’s in the hospital,” Kuroo slurred, sake sloshing out of his cup when he pointed to the screen, “That’s a shot!”

The two of you threw back the warm liquid, and you were kind of worried that it didn’t taste like anything anymore.

“Kuroo,” you laughed, “We’re only on the second episode… and I think I’ve taken, like, twelve shots at this point.”

“This was your idea!”

“Well, I have another idea,” you started to get up, causing Kuroo to get up as well, “Let’s order take out!”

He laughed at your red face, agreeing with you.

You started to make your way to the couch, but all of a sudden, you felt dizzy, a head rush taking over your senses as you stumbled over your feet.

Kuroo caught you before you could hit the floor.

“You okay?” he laughed, and the sound of it elicited a laugh from your own lips.

In a second, the two of you erupted in giggles, snickering at nothing in particular while his strong arms still held you in place.

Suddenly, you were hyperaware of his touch on your skin, and you let your eyes trail from the strong hands around your waist, to the golden honey eyes that were already staring at your face.

You can’t exactly remember how, but the next thing you knew, you were pinned under Kuroo on his bed, his soft lips moving in tandem with yours while his hot tongue took over your whole mouth.

Your arms were looped around his neck, and he slid his calloused hands up your arm.

You felt his hands grip onto your wrists before he pulled them off his necked and pinned them onto the mattress.

You took in a deep breath once he disconnected from your mouth, planting a trail of kisses along your jaw line and down to your neck, before you slid his tongue across your supple skin.

You shivered, acutely aware of the fact that he has you trapped.

“Be careful,” Eri’s words echoed in your mind.

Fuck, you tried to think but it was hard when Kuroo just threw his shirt across the room, hovering over you with chiseled abs and defined muscles.

The heat returned to your body when he lowered his head, and popped a hard nipple into his mouth.

Your body arched at the feel of his teeth grazing against your skin, goosebumps racing when he dipped his hand beneath your underwear, a slender finger gliding down your folds before inserting into you.

You weren’t prepared for the intrusion, and he captured the gasp that came out of your mouth with his lips.

He was now holding down both of your wrists with one hand, never realizing that he was that much bigger than you.

He slid out his finger, bringing it to his mouth to give a long lick, before dipping his hand back down, and pushing in two.

You threw your head back when Kuroo curled his fingers, wondering how the hell he was able to find your g spot so quickly.

You felt like an animal caught in his trap, caged in with your arms pinned down, no choice but to let Kuroo draw out your orgasm while he pumped and curled into you, circling his thumb over your swollen clit.

Your legs were shaking while you screamed out his name, embarrassed that you were cumming so hard when he hasn’t even actually fucked you

He didn’t give you a chance to recover from your orgasm

In one swift movement, Kuroo let go of your hands and pulled out his fingers so he could grab a leg in each hand to fold you over in a press.

You don’t even know when Kuroo had taken his pants – or yours – off, and you didn’t have time to wonder.

A moan escaped your lips at the feel of his length filling you up, and you distinctly hear Kuroo tell you to say his name.

“Kuroo,” you moaned, bringing your hands to his shoulders, grasping at his body.

Every buck of his hips shot a jolt of pleasure throughout your body, unable to escape the feeling with Kuroo holding you down in place.

Who the hell would want to escape from here anyway?

“My first name,” he growled, quickening his pace when he felt your walls tighten around his dick.

“Tetsuro!” you screamed without a second thought, the brutal rhythm Kuroo has set driving heat onto your stomach, repeating his name over and over even after you feel your pussy gushing all over him, your cum dripping down from his shaft to his balls.

“Fuck,” Kuroo growled out, driving into you one last time before he spilled hot white, trying hard to catch his breath while coming down from this high.

The two of you lay together in the darkness for a while, your head on his chest and his arms around his shoulder.

The silence that surrounded the room was comfortable; almost like a bubble of peace that neither of you wanted to pop by saying anything.

“Be careful,” Eri’s fucking voice told you, yet again

While you didn’t regret what had just happened between you and Kuroo, doubts were beginning to creep in your mind.

What the hell was supposed to happen now? You’re not sure if Kuroo was expecting this outcome when he invited you over for drinks, but it happened, and you’re not really sure where to go from here.

You’ve already built a life for yourself – one that was truly yours – and you had a path that you had every intention to follow.

Would Kuroo be like every other guy and run away when he finds out you’re not compromising your plans for him? Would you even want to try to fit him into your plans?

You shake your head.

Jesus, get a grip. A guy dicks you down /once/, and all of a sudden you’re thinking about this shit?

“Y/N? You okay?” He asked from beside you.

You lift your head from his chest, sitting up so you could lean your back against his headboard. Kuroo was quick to mirror your actions.

“Kuroo,” you begin to tell him, and he frowned a little at the sound of his last name, “That was… amazing.”

Kuroo blushed a little at your compliment, though he knew it didn’t stop there. “…But?”

“But,” you bit your lip, “I’m not really looking for anything serious right now.”

Kuroo didn’t respond right away, but maybe that’s because you just kept babbling. “It’s just… I have so much going on with school, not to mention grad school applications are due in a few months, and who knows which university I’ll end up going to after graduation…”

You finally had the courage to look at him, and you caught a glimpse of what you would have thought was sadness in his eyes if it hadn’t been blinked away so quickly, soon replaced with that same unreadable smile.

“Whatever you want, Kitten,” he replied, “This doesn’t have to be anything more than what it is.”

You let out a breath of relief.

He walked you home that night (or morning, considering it was 1am), still trying your best to set boundaries even though you pretty much let him thoroughly wreck you.

He didn’t give you a kiss goodbye, instead sheepishly waving when he sees you entering the door to your apartment, saying he’ll shoot you a text tomorrow.

You thought things would be weird between the two of you after that night, but you were happy to find that it wasn’t.

You had managed to rekindle your friendship with Kuroo – meeting up to study, grabbing lunch if you had the time, maybe catching the occasional movie.

Though, you didn’t tell Eri about the added benefits.

(Kuroo Tetsu-hoe) Today: 12:37AM

You up?

[To: Kuroo Tetsu-hoe] Today: 12:49AM

Yeah, doing my Lit. paper.

(Kuroo Tetsu-hoe) Today: 12:50AM

Wanna do me instead?

[To: Kuroo Tetsu-hoe] Today: 12:58AM

Say less.

ou didn’t have to tell Eri about the added benefits – she wasn’t dumb, where else would her roommate be going in the middle of night?

You’ve had other men before, going through your fair share of sexual experiences before climbing into bed with Kuroo.

But he was still managing to show you new things, reaching spots you never even knew existed before, putting his mouth in places that made your eyes water and lungs burn from gasping for air.

You can’t explain the feeling you get when he’s running his hands across your body, and when he stares at you and nothing but you while he’s pumping into you and making you feel so full in more ways than one, it’s something akin to a chemical reaction.

There was one time, when he took a belt, secured it against his head post before he brought your legs up to –

“Earth to Y/N,” Kuroo said, waving a hand in front of your face.

“Sorry,” you said, shrugging your shoulders, “I was having a flashback.”

Kuroo smirked, knowing exactly what you meant.

The two of you were lying in bed, your back against his chest and a strong arm wrapped around your waist.

You laid your hand on top of his, fiddling with his fingers and reveling in the calm that always came from being with Kuroo.

“What you thinking about?” You ask, and the way he stiffened up in your grip let you know that something really was bothering him.

It took him a little longer than you’d like before he replied.

“Do you ever feel like… you want more?”

This time, it was you that stilled in his arms.

“Be Careful.”

You turned around to face Kuroo.

“I thought we talked about this?”

Kuroo’s eyes searched your face, for what, you have no idea. But you stared back with just as much intensity, hoping that he would find the answer he was looking for.

Fear. That’s what was written all over your face.

Kuroo let out a humorless laugh. “Forget I said anything.”

He stood up to put his boxers on and slipping on a shirt before heading out onto the balcony that was attached to his room.

You gave him a few moments before getting up to gather your clothes from the floor, silently putting them on before you joined him outside.

You find him leaning against the balcony railing on his forearms, a cigarette lit in one hand.

He doesn’t turn his head towards you, but he does offer his cigarette, and you take it quietly.

You bring the white filter to your lips, taking a deep drag, closing your eyes when you feel your head get lighter, and releasing the smoke from your lungs.

“Kuroo,” you started, voice nothing but a soft whisper, “I’m sorry… I didn’t – “

He raised a hand to stop you.

“It’s fine,” he replied. “Like I said, forget I mentioned anything.”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Hey,” he said, taking his cigarette back from you and taking a drag himself, “Kenma’s having a party this weekend. They’re inviting over some old classmates from Nekoma. He says he misses you. You should come.”

Your ears perk up at the invitation, excited at the thought of seeing your old friend and a little happy that he’s moving past the subject.

"Kenma? Is having a party?”

Kuroo laughed. “Alright. Yaku is having a party, but we’re doing it at Kenma’s place. It’s actually not that far from here, just one train ride.”

You chuckled, shaking your head knowingly.

“Yeah, I’ll go,” you agreed, “But, uhm… I’ll just meet you there?”

Kuroo nodded. “Yeah. I’ll just meet you there.”

You didn’t see Kuroo the rest of that week.

You weren’t sure what it was – he wasn’t ignoring you, he replied to your text messages and answered your calls.

But he hadn’t once asked you to come over. And after what happened that night, you were scared to ask him to come over.

The night of Kenma’s party came, and you entered to find way more people than you had expected. You didn’t recognize more than half of the people there, but relief washed over you when Yaku threw an arm around your shoulder.

You didn’t see Kuroo right away when you arrived, but you were too distracted at the joy from seeing some of your old classmates.

You were half way through a game of beer pong with Lev as your partner before Kuroo was able to make an appearance.

He made his rounds, saying his greetings to everyone before stopping at you, giving you a friendly one armed hug.

You didn’t want to admit that you were a bit sad at the generic greeting.

Was it because maybe… you want…. mor –

“Y/N! Shoot the damn ping pong ball,” Lev exclaimed, and you were shook out of your reverie.

Kuroo excused himself, saying he was going to the kitchen to make himself a drink, but you were too focused on winning your game to notice.

Before you knew it, you lost three to two against Kenma and Yamamoto, cursing at Lev for forcing you to carry the team on your back.

By this point, the alcohol had spread all through your system. You were still able to walk straight, but with considerable effort. The words that came out of your mouth were just a little slurred, and you were kind of having a hard time controlling the volume of your voice.

“Where’s Kuroo?” you asked Yaku, who instantly shot a hand up to rub his ear.

“Jesus, woman, you don’t have to yell, I am /right here,” he grumbled, but he still let you sling an arm around his shoulders for support. “I thought he went into the kitchen to get some drinks?”

That’s right, he said that. But that was hours ago. Where could he be?

You stagger away from Yaku, pushing your way past unfamiliar bodies to get to the kitchen.

The first thing you saw when you tripped into the kitchen was Kuroo, dressed in a fitted black shirt and blue jeans, looking every bit the Greek God he was as he leaned against the counter. His arms were crossed atop his broad chest, a drink in one hand.

He was talking to someone, and you thought you recognized the long black hair that flowed from the back of their head, but were too distracted studying the veins that protruded from Kuroo’s forearms.

You opened your mouth to call out to him when the person in front of him stepped up, pressing their body into his. She uncrossed his arms and snaked two long arms around his neck.

You recognized her in that instant.

It was his ex from high school.

Looking down, you were surprised to see your clothes dry, because it felt like someone poured a bucket of ice water directly on top of your head.

“Be careful,” Eri’s words echoed in your head for the ten millionth time.

Yet here you were

In the same exact place you were a little over three years ago.

You scoffed at yourself.

Well, there’s nothing else for you here now, is there?

You shoot Yaku and Kenma a quick text in a group chat to let them know you were leaving.

The air outside was cold, your breath coming out in puffs. You wrapped your jacket around a little tighter, cursing yourself silently for not wearing a scarf cause it’ll ‘ruin the outfit.’

“Hey, the party’s that way.”

The sudden voice behind you nearly made you jump ten feet in the air.

“Jesus, you really are like a fucking cat.”

Kuroo chuckled.

For some reason, the sound made you angry. You kept walking, following the path of dimmed street lights that led you to the train station.

“Yeah, but home’s this way.”

His heavy footsteps trailed behind you.

“Great, I was getting tired of the party anyway.”

“What are you doing here?” You finally turned your head to him and asked.

Your voice was surprisingly clear and even, despite the unsteadiness of the ground beneath you.

“What do you mean? I’m walking you home.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s late, and you’re my friend.”

‘Friend’. The word made you wince, even though you were the one that drilled the idea into his head.

“I saw you talking to your ex,” you grumbled, crossing your arms and turning the other direction.

You could practically feel his smirk.

“Oya? Is that jealousy I’m hearing in those words?”

You felt your face get hot.

“Of course not!”

- “I thought we were just friends?”

“Will you shut up for once in your life, idiot!”

He wanted to tease you some more, but was stopped by the pensive look on your face.

“Why would you leave the girl that broke your heart behind just to walk me home?”

Kuroo looked at you with a confused expression.

“Girl that broke my heart?”

You nodded. “When I asked you about her, you said she was a big mistake.”

Kuroo stopped walking. You turned your head back to look at him curiously when he doubled over in a full bellied laugh.

“Are you laughing at me?!” You asked incredulously, giving him a glare from where you stood.

“You... you think she’s the one that broke my heart?”

Kuroo wiped a fake tear from his eye.

“Wow. That was a good one.”

“What the hell are you going on about, Kuroo?”

The jovial look on Kuroo’s face slowly faded, the entertained smile on his face shrinking his lips into a thin line.

“Y/N, she didn’t break my heart.”

Now it was your turn to be confused.

“You want to know why I said she was a big mistake?” Kuroo took a step towards you, “It was because of her that I lost you.”

Your jaw dropped.

Kuroo ran his fingers through his hair, ruining the perfectly waxed locks that he had spent thirty minutes styling.

“Please don’t run away when I tell you this.”

You couldn’t move your feet even if you wanted to.

“The only reason I ever brought her up to you in the first place was because I wanted to see your reaction. I wanted to know if you would get jealous. But without hesitation, you told me that I should just go ahead and date her, and you know dumb young men and their pride... then... it just... snowballed into something I didn’t even...”

Kuroo couldn’t finish his sentence.

Your vision begins to shake.

“But... but I confessed to you!”

“Yeah, then you slammed the door in my face and stopped talking to me!”

You couldn’t deny that.

“Do you have any idea how confusing that was for a teenage boy? I had no idea what the hell was going on, one day, I blinked and I was stuck with a girl I didn’t love while I watched my best friend smile and laugh and walk passed me like I never even existed.”

You swallowed the guilty lump that was caught in your throat.

“All I knew was that you weren’t around anymore; you weren’t there to make me laugh with your dumb jokes, you weren’t coming over and leaving your presence all over my room, nothing, it was all gone, and it all felt so fucked up. Being without you felt so fucked up.”

Had Kuroo always felt this way? Were you really so busy running away from him that you couldn’t even see that he was hurting too?

“Now the universe or the gods or whatever brought me back to you, and it’s like everything makes sense again, and fuck, all I want to do is just show you how much I’ve missed you, how much I care, how much I love you.”

You gasped, and you were waiting for Kuroo to try and take those words back, but the resolve was painted in his eyes.

“But all you do is just keep me at arms length. You wanted to be just friends when I wanted everything.”

You choked back a sob, tears were now steadily streaming down your face.

Kuroo closed the space between you, wrapping one arm around your waist while bring his other head to wipe at your tears with the pad of his thumb.

“She wasn’t the girl that broke my heart. You were.”

He moved to place his fingers on your chin, tilting your head up to force you to look at his eyes.

He wanted you to see that he meant every single word.

“If this is all you’re willing to give me, I’ll take it. I’ll break my own heart. Every day, over and over again, if that’s what it takes to be with you.”

His voice was in a whisper now, bringing his lips to kiss both sides of your cheeks.

“Because I love you.”

He brought his hands to cup for your face before pulling you in for a kiss.

This wasn’t anything like you’ve ever experienced before.

Every time his tongue brushed against yours, you felt all the love adoration he was trying to convey in this one physical act, hoping he could transfer it all into your lips.

It felt like time stopped just for the two of you, to have this moment in the middle of the sidewalk, bathed in the orange glow of the street light that hung above you.

He pulled away finally, resting his forehead on yours for just a second before he engulfed you with his arms.

His head rested on top of yours, feeling the vibrations as he spoke.

“I’m going to ask you one more time,” he said nervously. “Do you want something more?”

You wiggle out of his grip just so you can move your hands up to caress his cheek.

“Tetsuro... I love you so much.”

Later that night, in the safety of your room and away from Eri’s judgmental eyes at the two of you stumbling in and giggling through the door, you trace small circles on Kuroo’s chest with your fingers while Kuroo had an arm wrapped around you tightly.

“Hey, Tetsu,” you broke the silence with a whisper, “What if I end up going to grad school that was... further away?”

Kuroo couldn’t help but smile and shake his head. You were never going to change.

Not like he would ever want you to.

“Y/N... we didn’t talk for three years, and not once did I stop thinking about you. A little distance isn’t going to get rid of me.”

You try to bury your face in embarrassment.

If he had to spend every day of the rest of his life reassuring you that he’ll be by your side no matter what, well - that’s just too easy.

You find yourself holding onto him a little bit tighter, making a silent vow that never again were you going to push away Kuroo Tetsuro.

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