#so. been spending the last month or so trying to beat my brain out of being hyperfixated on the blorbos to the point of embarrassment | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

goldengalore · 1 year

Text

Intimacy

An anxious!reader fic.

Summary: Y/N hasn’t been intimate with someone in a long time, which makes her nervous about having sex with Harry for the first time.

Word count: 6.5k

Warnings: anxiety, smut (featuring soft dom!harry, fingering, thigh riding, oral - m receiving)

A/N: This is one last idea (for now) that I had for the anxious!reader universe. Lots of smut, but it’s very soft and sweet and full of love :)

***

His hands. Y/N can’t stop staring at his hands.

There are a lot of things she finds attractive about Harry. Too many. It’s actually maddening how one person can have so many attractive qualities. Lately, her brain has decided to fixate on his hands. They’re pretty and elegant, strong and masculine.

His long fingers are often decorated with an ornate collection of rings. Sometimes his nails are painted with vibrant colours; other times, they’re unpainted but still clean and neatly trimmed. She can often see the veins that travel up the backs of his hands into his toned arms. He moisturizes them well too, so they rarely look dry.

Y/N would be lying if she said her obsession with Harry’s hands is completely innocent and merely about aesthetics, that she hasn’t imagined how those fingers would feel in her mouth or between her legs and orgasmed to the thought of that while lying alone in bed at night.

It doesn’t help that he’s a highly affectionate person, finding any excuse to place his hands on her whenever she’s within reach. Even now, as they lounge on his couch, he pulls her legs into his lap and begins massaging them. She’s wearing a knee-length dress today, leaving her lower legs exposed. His hands don’t move up past her knees, but that doesn’t stop her imagination from running wild anyway.

“Y/N?” His smooth, commanding voice—another annoyingly attractive feature of his—pulls her from her thoughts.

“Hmm?” Her eyes flick up to his emerald ones staring back at her. She realizes with embarrassment that she hasn’t listened to a thing he’s said in the past minute or so.

“What were you staring at?” He glances down in his lap, where her gaze was just a few seconds ago.

“Oh, just your hands.”

His brows furrow slightly as he starts inspecting his hands, turning his palms up, then down. “Why? Something wrong with them?”

“No! No, they’re just… nice. Nice hands. That’s all. Sorry, what, um, what were you saying?”

A teasing smirk forms on his lips. “Nice hands, huh? Never heard that one before.”

She rolls her eyes, trying to ignore the heat rising to her cheeks. “Please. I’m sure you’ve heard that a million times.”

“Mmm, not really.”

She narrows her eyes at him, not believing him for a second. His smirk broadens.

“Anyway,” he says, resting his hands back on her legs, “I was just saying that I really missed you last week.”

Now she feels even worse about zoning out on him. He’s been out of town this past week for work. They reunited just this morning after his flight landed back in LA.

“I missed you too, H.”

“This week made me realize something.”

Her heart skips a beat. “What?”

“Made me realize how much I hate being away from you. I know our friendship started over Zoom meetings and phone calls and whatnot since I was on tour, but…” He shrugs. “After spending time with you in person these past couple months, I can’t imagine being away from you for weeks or months at a time. I think I’d go mad.”

His confession feels like being swaddled in a warm blanket. While he was away, Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about him. His fluffy hair and dimpled smile, his kind eyes and boyish laugh, even his cute nose consumed her thoughts from the moment she woke up in the morning to the moment she fell asleep at night. She found herself cursing the slow passage of time frequently throughout the week. To hear that her feelings were reciprocated makes her giddy inside.

When she takes a while to respond, he says, “I hope that wasn’t too intense. It’s just been on my mind lately and I had to say it.”

“No, I feel the same way.” I think I’m in love with you, she says in her head but struggles to speak aloud. She has never been the first to say those words in a relationship.

He smiles, relieved. “Okay, good.” He holds her gaze for a few seconds, then shifts closer, her legs still strewn across his lap. His hand comes up to cradle her jaw as he leans in for a kiss, sucking her top lip into his mouth.

She scoots even closer, practically sitting in his lap now. The movement causes her dress to ride up. Harry rests his other hand on her bare thigh, squeezing it lightly. Her heart quickens. His hand inches along her inner thigh, hiking her dress up even further. Suddenly, her whole body tenses up and she shrinks away from his touch.

“Sorry, I—I can’t,” she stammers, quickly removing her legs from his lap and tugging her dress back down.

She sneaks a glance at his face and detects some hurt there. It lasts for a split second, but her brain registers it anyway. She feels awful. This is the second time he has tried to get intimate with her beyond just kissing. The first was the night before he was supposed to fly out of the city. They were cuddling in his bed. She was giving him all the signs that she wanted to take things further—letting her hands roam all over his body, grinding her hips against him—but as soon as he started returning her touches, she pulled away.

It’s frustrating because she fantasizes about it all the time, yet when it finally starts to happen, she freezes up. It’s like her mind and body are on completely different pages.

“I’m sorry, H,” she repeats.

“It’s all right.” He gives her a reassuring smile. “You’re not ready for that. I understand.”

“But I am ready. I just…” She looks up at the ceiling as if the answers to her puzzling emotions will be there. “Ugh! I don’t know.”

A long silence stretches between them, though it probably feels longer in her head than it is in reality.

“I should go,” she finally says, rising to her feet, but he grabs her hand before she can go anywhere.

“Already? We haven’t even had dinner yet.”

“But I made things awkward!”

“No, you didn’t. Stop that.”

She was trying to avoid his gaze, but he tugs on her hand to make her look at him.

“We’ve been apart for a whole week. You think I’m letting you run off that easily?” He frowns a bit. “Wait, that sounded creepier than I’d intended.”

She giggles, feeling somewhat lighter. “Okay, fine. I’ll stay.”

They order sushi for dinner and crack open a bottle of wine. The awkwardness she felt earlier fades as Harry starts telling her about a deep conversation he shared with the five-year-old girl sitting next to him on his flight. Y/N is glad she decided to stay because if she had gone home to spend the night by herself, her overthinking mind would have eaten her alive.

After dinner, they transfer back over to the couch with their wineglasses in hand. They sit cross-legged, facing each other. The wine has helped her loosen up some more, granting her the courage to explain why she’s been so reluctant to get intimate with him.

“I’m not a virgin,” she tells him. “I know it probably seems that way because of how I act every time we try to do anything sexual, but I’m not. Not that there’s anything wrong with being one, obviously. I just thought you should know.”

He nods. “Okay.”

Although he doesn’t press any further, his eyes are curious and attentive in a way that makes her want to spill everything, just lay out all her secrets and fears and insecurities in a big, messy pile in front of him.

“I’m not a virgin, but I haven’t had sex in years,” she explains. “And I’ve always had to have a few drinks before doing it. I tried doing it sober once, and it was a total disaster. I was on the verge of a panic attack the whole time, and the guy didn’t know what to do. I just told him to keep going, so he did until he finished and—”

“Lovie, that’s not okay,” he interjects, brows pinching together in concern. “He should’ve stopped when he realized you were having a panic attack.”

“Well, to be fair, I told him to keep going. It was totally consensual.”

“Still. He should’ve at least stopped to make sure you were all right. Seems like basic human decency to me.”

“I guess....” She shrugs, knowing that he’s right but not wanting to think about it much longer. “Anyway, after he finished, he told me that having sex with me was like fucking a scared baby deer.” She forces a laugh, though the memory still makes her cringe inside. “Needless to say, I was mortified and never saw him again. And that’s the only time I’ve had sex while sober.”

“And all the times you weren’t sober, did you at least enjoy it?”

She hesitates. “Um, define enjoy.”

He appears even more concerned now. “If you’re having to ask that question, I’m afraid the answer is no. If you enjoyed it, you would know.”

“Well, I just asked because if by ‘enjoy,’ you mean ‘did I orgasm during it,’ then it’s a no. But my anxiety was a lot more under control, so I guess that could be considered a form of enjoyment… Right?”

Rather than answering her question, he asks, “You’ve never orgasmed during sex?”

She shakes her head. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, but her cheeks still feel like they’re on fire.

“Have you ever had an orgasm?”

“Oh, plenty. When I’m alone, that is.”

“I see.” He rubs his jaw and looks away, sinking deep into thought. She can’t read the expression on his face.

“So, now you know how bad I am at sex,” she jokes to fill the silence.

He looks at her with a raised brow. “I don’t know about that. If anything, it’s the guys you’ve been with who were bad at sex if they couldn’t even make you come once.”

“Oh no, they were all very experienced.” Y/N doesn’t know why she’s defending these men, as if they would do the same for her. Perhaps it’s because she’s spent her whole life thinking she was the problem and this is the first time someone has suggested a different perspective to the one she’s become so accustomed to.

“Experience doesn’t always equate to being good at something.”

“I guess not.” She bites her lip and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I do want to try again… with you. I just don’t know how to stay calm without having a few drinks in my system.”

“Yeah, we’ll have to work on that.”

His use of the word “we” doesn’t go unnoticed by her. We, as in this is our problem, not just yours. We, as in we’ll figure this out together, you don’t have to do it alone. She feels a surge of something in her chest, and the only term she can think of to describe it is love.

“I’m calm right now,” she says with sudden realization, placing her wineglass on the table so quickly that it almost topples over. “So, technically, we could try again—”

“No.” He shakes his head. “We’re not having sex for the first time while you’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk drunk though. Just a bit tipsy. I think we could still—”

“Y/N, it’s not happening,” he states firmly. “Other guys might have been okay with that sort of thing, but I’m not, okay?”

Her shoulders slump. She looks down in her lap. “Okay. Sorry. I didn’t mean to pressure you. I just want you to know that I want it as much as you do.”

“I know. Hey”—he tilts up her chin—“we’ll get there. There’s no rush. I’m not going anywhere.”

He has no idea how much of a relief it is to hear those words. Her biggest fear this whole time has been him losing interest in her because she can’t seem to get over her anxiety around sex. It’s happened before. Guys often expect her anxiety to disappear after the first time. When it doesn’t, they take it as a blow to their ego and react by making her feel like a freak for being anxious at all. The humiliation leads to even worse anxiety the next time she gets intimate with someone. It’s a vicious cycle.

She doesn’t want to get her hopes up or anything, but maybe that cycle finally ends with Harry.

***

When it comes to Y/N, Harry just doesn’t know how to keep his hands to himself. Even before they met in person, he would dream of the day he could finally have her in his arms, how perfectly their bodies would mold together, how electrifying that first contact would be. For months, he’s been dying to touch and feel and kiss every inch of her, but after hearing about her sexual history, it’s no surprise why she’s so hesitant to take that step with him.

Taking things slow is not a problem for Harry. If anything, he feels lucky to be the one who gets to show her how fun and exciting and stress-relieving sex can be when the people involved actually care about each other’s pleasure.

It’s been a few days since that initial conversation. They’ve had several more discussions about it since then, and he thinks they’re ready to try something now.

He stares at Y/N lying on his bed, looking cute and cozy in his forest green Pleasing crewneck. Her lips are swollen from all their making out, her neck and collarbone littered with red spots where he licked and sucked on her skin like an ice cream cone.

“Question for you,” he says, leaning his head on his palm. “When’s the last time you touched yourself?”

“Hmm… A couple days ago?”

“Would you feel comfortable doing that in front of me?”

Her eyes widen. “Y—you want to watch me touch myself?”

“Only if you’re okay with it.” Her reaction already indicates that she’s not.

“Oh, I… I don’t think I am,” she admits, confirming his thoughts. “I mean, I don’t even like being watched while I cross the street. It’s like I forget how to walk.”

“Okay, different question. How would you feel about getting in a bath with me?”

She thinks about it. “I’d be okay with that.”

He runs them a bath lightly scented with a lavender oil he bought recently, while Y/N leans against the doorway and watches. Once he begins to undress, she follows suit. Starting with his crewneck, she removes her clothes at an extremely slow pace, as if she’s on the verge of changing her mind at any moment. He finishes undressing before she does and pretends not to notice her eyes bulging at the sight of his dick. Instead, he leans over to the tub to test the temperature of the water.

“I’ll get in first,” he says. “Then you can sit between my legs. Sound good?”

She swallows. “Yup.”

He steps into the tub and submerges everything but his head and upper chest into the water. His back rests against one side, his long legs outstretched in front of him.

In the meantime, Y/N finishes undressing. He forces himself not to stare, knowing that it’ll only make her more nervous. She moves quickly now, striding over to the tub and climbing in on wobbly legs. He holds out his hand for support.

“Careful,” he says.

She sits down between his legs with her back facing him. There’s still a lot of space between them.

“Just lean back against me,” he tells her.

She hesitates for a moment, then leans back until she’s flush against his torso.

He smiles. “There you go.”

“Okay, what now?”

“Nothing. Let’s just sit for a minute.”

They enjoy the next few minutes in companionable silence. The warm water seems to dissolve all the tension in her body, which is exactly why he suggested this idea in the first place. Her shoulders relax. She sinks deeper into him.

After a while, he says, “I’m going to try something. If you don’t like what I’m doing or you want me to stop, I need you to tell me. Don’t worry about hurting my feelings. My ego can handle it. Okay?”

She responds with a tiny nod.

“I need you to answer me verbally, lovie,” he says softly in her ear. “Just so I can be sure we’re on the same page.”

“Yes. Got it. Sorry.”

“That’s okay. Don’t have to apologize.”

“Sorry,” she says again, automatically. “Fuck! Sorr— Shit! Why do I keep—” She starts to sit up, but he places a hand in the middle of her chest, gently pulling her back against him. He can feel her heart galloping like a racehorse.

“Y/N, relax. You’re okay. You’re doing great. Just breathe.”

She inhales a deep, shaky breath, then releases it.

“That’s good. Keep doing that.”

Her heartrate gradually decreases with each breath she takes. Once she appears to have calmed down, he moves his hand from the centre of her chest to one of her breasts, cupping it tenderly in his palm. His other hand comes to rest on her belly before making its descent between her legs. She squirms a little once the pads of his fingers make contact with her clit.

“Are we okay?” he asks.

“Y—yeah.” She takes another deliberate breath.

He rubs her clit in small, tight circles and kneads her breast at the same time. Her hands rest at her sides on top of his thighs. As he pinches her nipple, twisting and pulling it lightly, her fingers dig into his thighs and his cock twitches between their bodies. He wonders if she felt it. His middle finger prods around her slit now and slips inside without resistance. He pumps it in and out a few times before adding a second one, using his thumb to rub her clit.

Y/N is completely silent, but the slick substance coating her pussy and the subtle rocking of her hips is confirmation enough that she’s enjoying this. He peeks at her face to find her eyes closed and her bottom lip pulled between her teeth like she’s afraid of accidentally making a sound.

That is another thing they’ll need to work on. Harry likes being vocal during sex and equally enjoys when his lovers are vocal too. He doesn’t want Y/N to hold anything back around him. But they can work on that another day.

“Does this feel good?” he asks.

She nods, then remembers what he said earlier and answers out loud, “Feels good, yes. Really good.”

Satisfied by her response, he presses a third finger inside and pushes all three of them deep into her with every thrust, turning her into a squirming, quivering mess in his arms. Her back arches off his torso as she comes, the smallest whimper slipping through her self-restraint. He gradually lessens the stimulation on her clit, then removes his fingers completely. She lets her head roll back against his shoulder.

“Wow,” she sighs. “I’ve never… That’s never happened with someone before.”

“Wasn’t too bad, was it?”

“No, it was great. Um… thank you?”

He chuckles. “My pleasure.”

Suddenly, she sits up and looks over her shoulder at him. “So… your turn now?”

He waves his hand, splashing some of the water with it. “Don’t worry about that.”

She frowns. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs casually, trying to act cool as if he can’t feel his dick throbbing furiously under the water right now.

He could take her up on the offer, but he wants to focus on her today. Y/N is too nice to admit it, but he has deduced from their recent conversations that her previous partners were too greedy in the bedroom, exploiting her selfless nature for their own benefit. It’s quite unfortunate. Someone like her deserves to be spoiled, not exploited. At least now that she’s with him, he can make sure she gets the treatment she deserves.

After they’ve cleaned up and stepped out of the tub, he grabs one of the towels off the counter and starts handing it to her, then stops.

“Can I dry you off?” he asks.

She seems surprised but not opposed to the idea. “Sure.”

“Okay, just one moment.” He quickly pats himself dry, then grabs the other towel and walks over to her.

Timid eyes gaze up at him. They fall shut as he raises the towel to her face and dabs away all the little water droplets. Next, he moves down to her neck, shoulders, chest, and so on… After he’s done with her upper body, he sinks down to his knees on the mat and works on her lower half, taking his sweet time and humming softly to himself. He glances up to find her smiling at him.

Once her entire body is dry, he leans forward and plants a kiss to her belly before standing up with the towel thrown over his shoulder. Y/N’s eyes follow him as if in a trance.

“All good?”

She just blinks at him.

“Y/N?”

“I’m in love with you.” The words rush out of her like a whoosh of air that had been trapped in a sealed container. “God, it feels weird saying it out loud. It’s been in my head for so long and I didn’t want to say it because that makes it feel more… real.”

“Why’s that a bad thing?”

She doesn’t reply.

“Because you think I don’t feel the same way?”

“Do you?” She winces slightly as if she’s bracing herself for possible rejection, as if the answer to that question could be anything but “absolutely, positively, one-hundred percent yes.”

“Of course I do, Y/N. I thought I’d made that pretty obvious.”

“You should know by now that nothing is obvious with me.”

It’s true. Even when they were just friends and Harry began dropping hints that he wanted to be more than that, they pretty much all went over her head. Y/N is a smart woman; she just happens to be totally oblivious when it comes to love and romance, which he finds deeply endearing about her.

“Well, take this as your confirmation that I am, in fact, very much in love with you,” he states, taking her face in his hands and giving her a big, sloppy smooch on the lips, which she accepts with a laugh.

***

“That’s it, lovie. Keep going. You’re doing amazing.”

Y/N rocks back and forth on Harry’s thigh, her cunt positioned directly over his tiger tattoo. His thick, firm quads provide the perfect amount of friction against her needy clit.

A week ago, the idea of riding his thigh while he watched her would have made her extremely self-conscious. But since then, they’ve spent each night exploring each other’s bodies. He has given her several more orgasms with his fingers and mouth, while she has given him some with her hand. They’ve masturbated in front of each other. One night, he gave her a full-body massage that turned her on so much that he hardly even had to touch her clit to make her come.

She doesn’t mind being watched anymore. Not by Harry, at least. His gaze is never judgemental or critical. She doesn’t need to fret over saying or doing the wrong thing and ruining the moment. This has made her fall even more head over heels for him.

“Look so pretty getting yourself off on my thigh like this,” he says, toying with her breasts.

A moan starts to leave her mouth until she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth to trap it in. Harry reaches up and drags her lip back down with his thumb.

“Let me hear you,” he says. “Wanna hear how good this makes you feel.” He grips her chin between his thumb and index finger, keeping her mouth open.

She’s close now, the heat of her orgasm building in her core. Her hips grind faster against him. He lifts up his thigh to heighten the pressure on her clit. The tight knot in her lower abdomen unravels, and she comes with a loud moan, soaking his thigh with her juices.

“You make the sweetest sounds when you come,” he says, releasing her chin.

She pecks him on the lips and, before she’s even recovered from her orgasm, gets on her knees between his legs.

He frowns. “What are you doing?”

She looks at him like it should be obvious. “Returning the favour?” As she begins to reach for his cock, he grabs her wrist.

“Nope,” he says. “You always do that.”

“Do what?”

“Act like you have to pay me back for every orgasm. Sex doesn’t have to be so transactional, you know?” The smirk on his face conveys that he’s joking, but that doesn’t stop Y/N from having the sudden, embarrassing realization that perhaps she does treat sex like it’s transactional and just wasn’t aware of it until now.

“I—I know that,” she fibs a little. “I just want to make you feel good.” That part, at least, is not a lie.

Harry has been spoiling her heavily this past week, which has been delightful. She can tell he’s making every effort to gain her trust in the fact that he doesn’t expect anything in return for how incredible he makes her feel. But Y/N likes making him feel good too. She likes the way he hisses and shudders when she finds his most sensitive spots. She likes watching his usual composure crumble simply from her touch. She lives for it.

“Please?” she adds to her request, giving him her best doe eyes.

“Okay,” he says. “If you really want to.”

“I do.”

He lets go of her wrist, allowing her to reach for his stiff cock again. Nerves make her hands tremble, as she remembers how long it’s been since she gave someone a blowjob. She wants it to be perfect, but realistically, she’ll probably be a bit rusty.

She strokes him in her hand and runs her tongue along the underside of his shaft until, finally, she feels ready to take him in her mouth. Her lips wrap around his tip and slowly move down his length, tongue gliding against him. She considers deep-throating, then decides against it because it’s been way too long since she’s done it and she needs time to work up to it again. Any insecurity she felt about that disappears the moment she glances up at Harry. His eyes are closed and jaw clenched, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard.

Emboldened by the look of absolute ecstasy on his face, she bobs her head up and down his shaft and massages his balls with her hand. She moans around him, and he releases a low groan at the sensation it produces. Then she lets his entire length slip from her mouth, teasing him by flicking her tongue over his tip and leaving little kisses along his shaft until his fingers are weaving through her hair in desperation.

“Didn’t know you could be such a tease,” he says with a breathy laugh.

She grins innocently, then takes him into her mouth again, determined to suck him to completion this time. His hand feels good in her hair. She imagines him holding her head in place while he fucks her mouth. She never thought she would be into that sort of thing until now.

“I’m gonna come soon, Y/N,” he warns her as he gets close.

She doesn’t pull away. He thinks she didn’t hear him, so he repeats himself. She makes eye contact to convey that she heard him, that she wants him to come in her mouth, which he does moments later. She relishes the taste of it, swallowing every last drop. As she draws back and wipes her mouth clean, he stares at her in amazement.

“You’re really fucking good at that,” he tells her.

“Thanks! I had this boyfriend in college who only wanted blowjobs all the time since that didn’t involve having to make me come, which was basically impossible for him. He was kind of demanding, but he taught me how to give a damn good blowjob.”

Harry grimaces. “You know, the more I learn about your previous partners, the more I want to hit them over the head with something.”

She laughs. “I think I make them seem meaner than they were.”

“No, I think you make them seem nicer than they were.” He pats his thigh. “Get up here.”

She stands up and sits on his thigh with her legs dangling between his this time. His arm wraps around her back.

Locking his eyes on hers, he says, “You are worth so much more than being some guy’s blowjob dispenser, all right?”

“I know, I know,” she says. “I was just young and naive back then, but I know better now.”

“Good. Don’t ever let any man or woman treat you that way. Okay?”

His eyes are so full of care and concern for her that she thinks she might just cry.

“Okay,” she replies.

***

Harry loves writing about the initial euphoria that comes with falling in love. It’s intoxicating and exhilarating and all-consuming. Many of his most successful songs were inspired by this peculiar feeling. It’s no wonder that he keeps heading into the studio lately to harness all this creative energy and inject it into his music.

Today, Tom, Tyler, and Mitch are all in the studio with him. Mitch is riffing on his guitar while Harry adlibs over it when Jeff pokes his head into the room.

“H, Y/N’s here to see you,” he says.

Harry raises his brows. “She is?” She didn’t tell him that she’d be visiting the studio today.

“Yeah, she’s waiting out front.”

“Is she all right? Did she say why she’s here?”

Jeff shrugs. “No clue. She seemed fine.”

Y/N always seems “fine.” She’s quite skilled at pretending everything is okay when it’s not, which can be rather concerning. Harry tells the guys he’ll be back, then heads to the front of the studio where he finds his girlfriend staring at a wall decorated from top to bottom with framed album covers of legendary musicians.

“Hi, darling,” he says as he approaches.

She turns to him, eyes illuminating as soon as they meet his. “Hi! Sorry, I told Jeff not to go get you, but he did anyway.” She gives him an apologetic smile. “I hope you weren’t in the middle of something. I swear if you were writing your next Grammy-winning single and I just ruined your flow, I’ll be so mad at myself.”

“Stop it. You haven’t ruined anything.” He steps closer, taking her hands. “Now tell me what brought you here. Are you okay?”

He studies her as she replies, “Yes, I’m fine. I’m not here for any particular reason. I just…” She hesitates. “I needed to see you.” As soon as she says it, her eyes squeeze shut. “Fuck, that sounds so needy.”

“That’s okay. We all get needy sometimes. Do you want to sit in the studio with me?”

She bites her lip, giving it some thought before shaking her head.

“Okay.” He brings her hands between their bodies, swinging them apart and together again. “Then tell me what you need.”

“I—I need…” She glances down in the general direction of his crotch.

A smirk tugs at the corners of his lips. “You need…?”

She rolls her eyes. “Don’t make me say it.”

He tilts his head to side, feigning innocence. “Say what?”

“Baby…”

He wanted to make her say it, but the pleading look in her eyes makes him cave. “You need my cock, is that it?”

“Shhh! Not so loud!” Her head spins around to make sure no one heard them.

He laughs. “There’s no one around, lovie.”

“Still!” She sighs and presses her hands against her flaming cheeks. “It’s not fair. You’ve been teasing me with it this whole week, and it’s all I can think about. Couldn’t even focus on my art today because I kept thinking about how…”—she drops her voice to a barely audible whisper—“how you would feel inside me.”

It’s been exactly a week since Y/N first hinted that she’s ready to go all the way with him. Harry was the one who wanted to put it off a little longer. He predicted that if he made her wait long enough, her hunger for it would overpower any anxiety that might crop up during the act.

Smiling, he brings his hand up to her cheek, her skin hot against his cool palm. “Aw, I know, sweetheart. You know the only reason I’ve been teasing is to make sure you’re ready for it.”

“I know. And I’m ready now. I really am.”

“Okay, but we can’t exactly do it here, you know that?”

“Why not? Isn’t there a bathroom in here somewhere?” She pushes up on her toes to look over his shoulder down the hallway where he came from.

“We’re not fucking in the studio bathroom, Y/N.”

She groans and lifts her hands up to his chest, scrunching his shirt between her fingers. “But I can’t wait any longer!”

“Yes, you can.” He wraps his hands around her wrists. “You’re going to be a good girl for me and wait until I pick you up from your flat tonight.”

She pouts and concedes, “Fine.”

He kisses her pout and gives her a hug that lasts for several minutes because she doesn’t want to let go and he never lets go until she does, so they’re in a standoff for who’s going to let go first until finally, Y/N releases him.

After that, the rest of the day moves at a snail-like pace. Harry can hardly focus; he’s too distracted by the thought of what’s to come tonight. Every lyric he comes up with sounds too raunchy to put in an actual song. Even his friends jokingly speculate about why he’s acting so strange—especially Tom, who just loves to make him squirm.

That evening, he has to make a conscious effort not to speed all the way to Y/N’s flat. The plan was to pick her up, take her back to his place, and maybe eat dinner before having their fun, but he thinks he’ll have to skip most of those steps.

Y/N buzzes him into her building. She’s on the second floor, so he doesn’t even bother with the elevator and takes the stairs two at a time. As soon as she lets him in, his mouth is on hers. She kisses him right back, throwing her arms around his neck and pressing up against him. They make their way to her bedroom and remove all their clothes, ending up on the bed with him on top of her.

“Naughty girl,” he says between kisses to her neck. “Came all the way to the studio because you were needy for my cock, hm?”

She covers her face with her hands. “H, don’t tease! I’m embarrassed enough as it is.”

He gently pulls her hands away from her face. “Don’t be embarrassed. Do you have any idea how sexy it is that you want me that badly? Got me all hot and bothered at the studio. Could barely keep myself together for the rest of the day.”

A mischievous little grin makes its way onto her face. “Really?”

“Yes, really. That’s the effect you have on me.” His hand drifts down between her legs to find that she’s already drenched, so he grabs his cock and runs the tip up and down her slit. When he looks back up at her face, there’s a hint of apprehension that wasn’t there before. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just remembered that I haven’t had something so, uh”—she swallows, glancing down at his cock—“big inside me in a while.”

“Do you want to be on top? That way, you can go at your own pace.”

“What if my pace is too slow and you can’t come?”

“What if I come two seconds after I’m inside you? Would you still love me?”

“Of course!”

“There’s your answer then.”

She squints at him, her lips curving up. “Well played.”

They switch positions so that she’s on top of him, straddling his hips while he leans back against the headboard. She carefully guides his cock up to her entrance, inserting the tip before lowering herself onto him. Her tight walls stretch and expand to accommodate him. She winces from the discomfort. He massages her hips, reminding her to take her time.

It takes her several attempts to get him all the way in, but once he’s there, the feeling is indescribable. He curses under his breath, closing his eyes briefly.

“Is that okay?” she asks.

“Perfect,” he responds in a strained voice. “It’s perfect.”

She seems reassured by his response and starts moving her hips in slow circles, getting used to having him inside her. Then she lifts up and sinks all the way down again. Soon enough, she’s riding him at a steady pace, her hands on his shoulders, her breasts swaying gorgeously in his face, beckoning him to place his hands over them. He has pictured this moment so many times, he can’t believe that it’s finally happening.

He starts thrusting up into her, meeting her halfway. As his thrusts become sharper, her jaw drops open.

“Harry—”

The sound of his name slipping out of her mouth like that, all salacious and full of yearning, is a drug he can see himself getting addicted to.

“Please,” she whines.

He slows down, worried that he might have been too rough. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just— Please don’t stop. It feels so good.”

“Feels good, huh? Someone finally fucking you like you deserve?”

She nods, her eyes rolling back as he resumes the movement of his hips.

“This is what it’s supposed to feel like,” he tells her. “Remember this.”

“Oh, I will.” She barely finishes her sentence before he pounds into her again.

He feels himself about to crest and reaches down to rub her clit. A final medley of moans and grunts leave their mouths as they come. Her pussy spasms around his pulsing length. As the waves of pleasure subside, her body goes completely slack in his arms, worn out from the intensity of the experience they just shared. She rests her head against his shoulder, basking in the afterglow while he brushes his fingers through her hair.

Her soft voice breaks through the silence. “I didn’t know it could feel this good. I’ve been missing out.”

“We’ve got plenty of time to catch you up. Don’t you worry.” He kisses the side of her head, earning a contented sigh from her.

***

Thank you for reading! For more anxious!reader and other fics, check out my MASTERLIST

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagines #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x you #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry styles oneshot #harry styles x y/n #domrry #dom!harry #anxious!reader #my writing

5K notes · View notes

hwangism143 · 4 days

Text

𓆩♡𓆪 nicknames. 𓆩♡𓆪

maknae line.

bang chan.

when you woke up from bed, you noticed a bang chan-shaped depression right beside you. a giggle escaped your mouth as your brain recounted all the fun you had last night trying to beat chan in monoply.

yes, you had only been dating for two months, but this relationship felt real. it felt like something. you were confident in saying that you saw a future with him. you walked into the kitchen where you chan preparing breakfast. he handed you a cup of coffee, just the way you like it, with a sleepy smile.

"so, i've been thinking and," chan started, "would like it if i call you a nickname in your native language?"

you nearly choked on your coffee. "like it? chan, that is the sweetest thing ever."

he grinned at you, "good, cuz i have been doing a lot of research." he swooped down, kissing the top of your head and melting your heart along with it.

lee minho.

"i have a problem."

minho startled you, uttering those four words as soon as he stepped through the door. you were watching tv, curled up on the sofa with a blanket and dori, munching on popcorn and waiting for minho's arrival.

"what's wrong?"

"it's you." minho watched your face morph into confusion and worry and he quickly explained, "not exactly. since we're dating, i need to come up with a cute nickname for you. hyunjin said that jagiya is not cute enough."

at that, you start to laugh. "babe, does he even know why you call me jagiya? as a matter of fact, i'm curious too."

minho begins blushing, the tips of his ears turning red. "oh, um, as a nickname, it reminds me of home. and you're, well, home."

you let out a squeal and begin attacking minho with kisses and for once, he doesn't protest.

seo changbin.

"no. i will not give up."

you let out a weary sigh. "binnie, it's been hours."

changbin is sitting on a bar stool and you are sprawled across the sofa, dangling upside down. for the past two hours, you and changbin had been deciding on what terms of endearment to use on each other.

unlike changbin being extremely undecisive, you had almost immediately decided what you would call him. your bunny boy! this was probably an extremely boring way to spend your six-month anniversary to outsiders, but it was (comically) important to changbin and if it was important to him, it was important to you.

"i'm sorry for boring you, princess," he said sadly. suddenly, his eyes widened. you got up instantly, making eye contact with him, breaking out into a smile.

"that's it!"

hwang hyunjin.

you and hyunjin laid down on the mat you placed on the grass, gazing at the stars. or at least, you were gazing at the stars. hyunjin's eyes only looked at you.

"what's your favorite term of endearment?" he asked, breaking the comfortable silence you were in.

"hm," you contemplated it for a minute, "probably love. there is something just so romantic about calling someone you love, love. it's almost as if you're making it known to the world that they personify your version of love."

hyunjin nodded in agreement, "or that the exemplify the love that they have to give."

you turned to look at him. his face was drawn in concentration, clearly very focused on the topic at hand. "but," he began, "it's ambiguous, isn't it? you can call anyone love, regardless of the type of love."

you hummed at his words, turning them over in your head. "well then, what would you prefer?" you questioned him, curious to hear the thoughts in his head.

"something my-adjacent," he replied, "my love. my muse. my world."

he cupped your cheeks in his hand looking at you with stars in his eyes.

"my everything."

#stray kids #skz #lee know #chan #changbin #hyunjin #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #lee know fluff #bang chan fluff #changbin fluff #hyunjin fluff #- via's fics <3

360 notes · View notes

deathbecomesthem · 19 days

Text

A Lesson In Anatomy | 4.5K

+18 ONLY - Minors DNI

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Contains smut and feelings. Read at your own risk.

*This story belongs in the No Shelter universe, but it can be read as a one shot. I wanted to make sure this was linked on this blog before I continue the next chapter of the series. Consider this the prequel.

Hawkins, Summer of 1986 - No UD

---

Eddie’s been weird lately. He’s been quiet and almost shy around you, and you’ve spent the last few nights turning over possible reasons for this. In your dark room with only the sound of your fan to accompany the thought spiral your brain pushes you through, you close your eyes and picture your good friend Eddie. His easy smile, his flirtations. He’s become everything to you in the last few months, and it’s putting you on edge to see him pull away from you.

The last time you remember having an easy time with Eddie was two weeks ago, at the lake. The younger kids were spending the hot summer day at the arcade and movie theater, it wasn’t missed on you the way they all had been awkward about stripping down to their bathing suits this summer. No amount of reassurance would change that, only time and maturity. It gave you, Eddie, Robin, Nancy, Steve, Jon, and Argyle a chance to drink and smoke without worrying about being a bad influence.

And flirt. So much of that. Especially with Eddie. He’s gone from acquaintance, to friend, to best friend in the matter of months.

The truth about how you feel about him is between you and yourself. You treat everyone the same, but you have to watch yourself. You have to keep your eyes on him no longer than the others. You have to make sure you take your fingers from his arm after pushing him away, not let the back of your fingers trail down his soft skin to try to pull out the gooseflesh. If you offer him the flame of your lighter, you have to hold it out to everyone. You won’t survive it if you show him your secret desire and he rejects it. It’s better to share your affections openly with everyone if it means he gets the smallest taste of how much he means to you.

So, what happened that day while you all splashed around in the cool lake water? You rewind and playback any scenes you can remember. It was perfect, the hot sun beating down on sweaty bodies, the smell of baby oil in the air. The night before lake day you had been on a date with Dale. You were particularly fresh with everyone. Really turned on the charm.

The night before you and Dale tangled up in each other’s limbs. Dale had pumped in and out of you, his stamina had been impressive. He whispered things in your ear about how good you felt, how wet and warm you felt around him. He’d found the sweet spot on your neck. It was nice. A pleasant experience, especially for the first time with a new lover. Sometimes those experiences were unpleasant, but Dale had even put his mouth on you. He took his time with his tongue spreading your lips and lapping at you. He had drunk you in. It was nice.

“How was your date with Dale last night? Did he hit a home run?” Robin’s whispers were anything but quiet, and her question caught the attention of the boys while they dug around in the cooler next to the two of you.

“Jesus, Robin.” You scold her, but it’s no use. The damage is done, and everyone stands stock-still to hear your answer. These topics are not off the table with all of you, but it’s always hard to talk about when you feel the heat of chestnut eyes watching. “Ok, yeah. We had some fun last night. It was nice.”

“Nice, huh?” Argyle’s smile is skeptical, and he’s too loose right now. The weed he brought with him has made his tongue looser than normal, and it was already untethered. “No fireworks? You guys have been hot and heavy for a while. What happened?”

You consider lying and saying, “oh it was amazing. The heavens opened above my head. I was so close I could feel the pearly gates run across my fingers.” But no. They’d see through it.

“It was nice. I enjoyed it. But no, no fireworks. Maybe with a little bit of, uh – instruction?” You stop talking, fearing you might say something that would be embarrassing for Dale if he knew you were talking about this.

“Oh, no. Does he not know how to eat the peach?” Argyle gasps out the question, and everyone snickers. “You gotta tell him. That’s not right. Did you fake it?”

This is when you realize that not everyone is giggling. Eddie’s face and chest are as red as a tomato. It’s not the first time you’ve talked about your sexual conquests in front of him, but the thought of making anyone in the group uncomfortable pains you. So you pivot. Eddie’s embarrassed and you feel bad about kissing and telling.

“Arg, be a good boy and roll us a joint, hm?” You bat your eyelashes at him and give him your sweetest tone. No harm done, but time to change the subject.

The rest of the day at the lake went by with laughter. No worries for any of you while you ate fruit salad and turkey sandwiches and drank your beers. It was one of those magical days that is both endless and gone in the blink of an eye. A moment captured in your mind’s photo album.

Your eyes pop open. It was that conversation. You know it now. You remember the way Eddie had flushed, and ever since then he’s been off. The two of you talk about everything, you can’t imagine he’s suddenly shy about sex. He loves telling you about his sex-capades. You’ve seen him naked on several occasions, he has no shame.

Well, maybe he does. Maybe you brushed against a sensitive spot without even realizing it exists.

You call Eddie as soon as the clock hits noon. It’s Sunday, he’s not working today. Neither are you. Normally, that would mean the two of you would have some kind of plans, but for some reason you don’t this weekend. That won’t do. You let his phone ring seven times before you hang your back on the receiver.

You look at it for a minute, willing it to ring back with Eddie’s voice being on the other end, but it doesn’t. So, you dial the numbers again. On the fourth ring, you hear a click that tells you your call is being answered this time.

“Hello.” Eddie’s voice is rattling, and you hear him clear his throat while he waits for a response.

“Ed, hey!” You cringe at the sound of your voice, loud and chipper. It’s too much, he just woke up and he’s cranky. He’s always cranky before he gets some kind of caffeine in his system.

“Hey.” His voice is a little clearer. His stilted response is a shot through your gut.

“Hey, I was wondering if I could come over. I miss you, and I want some Ed time.” Your words are true, and your meaning is clear.

“That’s sweet,” Eddie clears his throat again, a stalling measure. You think he’s going to say no, and you feel panic start to set in when he lets out a heavy breath. “Uh, yeah, come over. We can hang. I miss you too.”

You make your way to his place slowly. You stop at the gas station on the way to fill up despite having half a tank already and make sure to grab Eddie’s favorite candy – Twizzlers – before hopping back into the driver’s seat. It’s a sweaty day, and your car doesn’t have air conditioning. The open windows do little more than move the sweat crawl across your skin. It’s an unsettling feeling that only stirs up the anxiety you feel in the pit of your stomach more. You feel like you’re walking into the line of fire, and you don’t know why.

Eddie’s sitting on the worn sofa outside of his trailer when you pull your car up to his place. He’s in sweats, and he looks like he’s just woken up even though hours have passed since your phone call earlier. The cigarette he’s holding between his fingers is burned to the filter, yet he still takes one last drag before dropping it into the bucket next to the arm of the couch.

“Hey, Sugar.” Eddie’s greeting falls short. His smile is small and doesn’t reach the corner of his eyes. You can see lines running down his puffy face. He must have gone back to bed after talking to you. You brace yourself for grouchy Eddie.

“Eddie,” you’re bringing enough energy for the both of you as you bound up the stairs to reach him, “I brought your favorite. Come on.” You don’t wait for an answer, you grab his hand to bring him inside the trailer. It’s too hot to sit outside, and he has a window unit in his bedroom that will keep you cool enough for the time being.

You pretend to not notice that his feet are dragging while you pull. It’s occurred to you just now that he’s pouting about something. He’s mad at you or annoyed at least. That won’t do either. He needs to quit being a child and talk to you.

“Sit.” You point to the edge of his bed. You catch a small eye roll before he flops himself down. He put his elbows on his knees and rested his chin in his hands. He really does look like a little kid being put into time out.

You pull over the chair he has sitting in the corner and face it towards him before taking your own seat. Eye to eye, you look at him and try not to be distracted by the way his eyes pull at you. They always do. You push it back and remember that he’s your friend, and you’re here because – why? Because something has upset him, and it’s something you did or said. You match his posture and put your own head into your hands and keep your eyes on his even when he looks down to the side.

“Eddie, my sweet Eddie. I love you a lot, but I’m not giving you a single Twizzler until you tell me why you’re mad at me.” You’re keeping it light, but you feel like a knife is cutting you deep.

“I’m not mad at you, Sugar. I’ve just been in my own head is all. It happens, I’m sorry.” Eddie’s still not looking back at your face. His fingers have started drumming across his cheek and his left leg has started to bounce. His eyes are still fixed to a spot on the carpet at your feet when one of his hands darts out to grab a strand of licorice from the bag in your hands, but you’re too quick and scoot your chair back a couple of inches.

“Ok, you’re not mad. Cool. Then why can’t you even look at me right now, huh?” Eddie’s eyes finally connect with yours as an act of defiance, but you accept it as a win. “Is it because I was talking about Dale? That’s –“

“Sugar, I don’t want to talk about it. You can keep the Twizzlers.” Eddie’s spitting venom in your direction, and you’re even more confused.

“Great, I’ll keep the Twizzlers. Jesus Christ, Ed. You’re acting like a child, what did I do, huh? Other than say I had a nice time with Dale. And I did, it’s not his fault he doesn’t know what the clit is!” You’re ranting at Eddie, spitting your own words at him hoping they cut enough to reopen the wound that he’s trying so hard to hide from you. His face drains of color while you tear at him.

“It’s not about Dale, Sugar. It’s not about you either.” His eyes are softer as he scans your face. His own anger seems to have faded away when you met it with your own. “Not really, anyway. It’s embarrassing.”

You think now about how he’s been acting, and yes, that feels true. He’s holding onto some private humiliation, and whatever you said under that hot summer sun seems to have wounded him.

“You don’t need to be embarrassed with me, Ed. I love you, you’re like my best friend.” There are tears in your voice, and you’re biting them back. “Not like, you are my best friend these days. Don’t you know that?”

You can see the gears turning with the beat of his bouncing leg. He looks like he’s ready to explode, and you worry for a moment. If his humiliation is deep enough, he’ll lash out at you, and you may never be able to make amends with him. You’re like two fires spitting sparks at each other, and you’re afraid something important might burn.

Eddie’s demeanor is guarded, but he speaks after a moment. He’s trusting you with this secret that’s been gnawing at him, “Sugar, I know you like to chat with our friends, but this is strictly between me and you.” You take his hand in yours and give him a nod of understanding, urging him to continue. “When you and Argyle were talking about Dale, it made me think about something that’s been buggin’ me.”

You keep your features lax. You don’t want to express the confusion you’re feeling. You want him to keep going. So, you squeeze his hand a little tighter letting your flesh dig into the metal cross he wears on his middle finger.

“I, uh, I think I’m doin’ it wrong.” Eddie’s mouth moves, but his eyes stay focused on yours. He’s watching for any acknowledgement of what he’s saying. You give none, so he continues. “When I’m,” he breathes through his nose in frustration, “when I’m ‘eating the peach’, girls never seem to like it as much as I thought they would. Or sometimes I think they’re pretending.”

“Oh.” You can’t hide the surprise in your voice because this is not what you expected. Eddie Munson doesn’t give good head? That seems so unlikely you can’t help but huff out a laugh. “No, I’m sorry. Ed, I’m not laughing at you. You’re telling me that the girls you’re with don’t like it when you eat them out?”

“I don’t know. They never complain. Never. I just know something is off. I can tell. I could spend an hour down there, and I’m not getting the results, Sugar. Can you help me?” Eddie accentuates his plea by grabbing both of your hands and holding them tightly in his own. You can feel his calloused fingertips and can’t help but imagine what they must feel like against your most sensitive places. “Help me Sugar-Wan Kenobi, you’re my only hope.”

His joke works, and the tension is broken. You tear your hands from him and grab the bag of Twizzlers off your lap and toss them in his face before hopping on the bed next to him. You rest your head on his shoulder, you’ve missed this easy intimacy, and the dam is broken now. You can talk to him. No more secrets.

“Yes, Ed. I can help you. But you’re going to have to explain to me what your process is if you want my help. Or, uh” you stop yourself before you say anything that can be misinterpreted exits your giant mouth. “you know what, let’s just start with you telling me and we’ll go from there.”

You can’t see the way that Eddie’s eyebrows raise up under his fringe, because your cheek is resting against his arm, but you don’t miss the way something moves under his gray sweatpants. Your own eyes bulge, and you think you must have imagined it.

Eddie’s nerves are gone, and he dives in. He goes into great detail about how he uses his tongue. How he likes to lay it flat against their slit and drag it across their soft hole. How he runs a finger along that path. How it feels when he pushes his tongue inside someone. What it tastes like. You’re so thankful he can’t see your face, but you’re afraid he can feel the skin of your cheek burn through his shirt. You’re afraid he’ll catch a whiff of the arousal that’s pooling between your legs. You try to focus on his words, on his descriptions. It sounds wonderful, the thought of him tasting you the way he’s describing. It takes great effort to remember that you’re supposed to be helping him. And then you realize.

“Eddie, what about their clit?” You interrupt his diatribe about how soft the inner lips feel against his tongue, unlike anything he’s ever had in his mouth before, “it’s nice to feel a tongue like that, don’t get me wrong, but don’t you ever play with their clit?”

Eddie stops talking completely, so you peel your face off his shoulder to look at him. He looks confused and annoyed. Oh no.

“Sugar, can you elaborate for me?” Eddie’s voice is level but edged with something. The embarrassment is back, and you can see him fighting against it. He trusts you to not make fun.

“Oh, Ed. I’m sorry. Do you want me to explain what a clitoris is?” You ask the question with nonchalance in your voice. He doesn’t know it, but just mentioning the small sex organ has yours throbbing in answer. It’s saying, yes, tell him. Tell him how you want him to touch and suck. Tell him how to take me between his pretty red lips.

“Yes, please. I feel really stupid, but I don’t know what that is. Christ, I’ve been with loads of women, and no one has fucking mentioned-“ You put your hand over his mouth before he can continue. You don’t want to hear about loads of other women right now.

“Eddie, think about your own,” you motion down to the crotch of his pants, “business.” He giggles at you, low and sweet. “Shut up. Think about your dick, ok? You know when a girl’s giving you head, and she sucks real nice at the tip?”

Eddie gulps, you imagine he’s thinking about Cindy Manes’ cherry-colored lips wrapped around the head of his hard cock. Spit gathering at the corners of her perfect mouth. He nods and you continue.

“Women have a little spot above the vagina. It’s up close to wear the seam of our slit begins. It’s like a kind of hard nub.” You let yourself get lost in the technical stuff, it makes it easier to push on and forget that your legs are sticky from how turned on this entire situation has you. “It’s like the head of your dick, only more sensitive. Most women can’t have an orgasm unless you stimulate it. It will get bigger when we get aroused, kind of like when you get hard only it’s a lot smaller than what you’ve got.”

Like the cat that’s got the cream, you see Eddie smirking, “Yeah, what I’ve got is a lot bigger.” He spreads his hands a foot apart and his eyes go as wide as his shit eating grin.

The tension in the air evaporates, and you grab his midsection to tickle him. You want to make him pay for being crass. You want to make him pay for making you laugh at such a childish joke. It’s hands grappling for a moment before you find yourself underneath Eddie with his hair covering both of your faces like a curtain. His nose is almost touching yours, and for a moment you’re breathing each other’s air. You can feel his erection dig into your thigh, and you know now that he feels it too. That this conversation isn’t just embarrassing because he didn’t know, but because it’s with you. Someone he wants.

You lift your head off his mattress and meet his lips with yours. You wait to see. Let him decide if he wants to open his mouth and let you inside. A beat passes, and his lips part as his knee makes its way between your legs giving him leverage. A hand is behind your head. As your lips dance and tongues meet, your head drops back into the mattress. You’re holding onto each other and trying to keep yourself in this spot without floating off. This is what you’ve wanted for so long, and there’s no going back.

“Eddie, hey,” you manage to pull your lips away from him despite his own desperately chasing after them. Instead, he busies his with that spot on your neck just behind your ear while you talk, “Eddie. Do you want me to show you what I was talking about?”

Eddie’s hum sends a vibration against your skin, his teeth begin to skate against your skin. He answers around your flesh and his words shoot straight through you and down into the place that’s been aching for him, “Yes, Sweetheart. I wanna make you see stars.”

The following kisses are hungry, messy. Spit pools under your tongue while his knee presses into your center. Your fingers thread through his hair, and you pull to release the need that’s thrumming inside you. His whimper is music to your ears. You think this is a dream, and you do not care. Let it be. For now, you have him, even if it’s only in your imagination. He’s yours to taste, to smell, to touch, to hear. And you belong to him.

“Please, Eddie. Please.” You pull his hair harder, pulling him away from your face so you can see him. His mouth is open, his eyes are wide. His groan is deep in his chest, and he is looking into you. Just for a moment, he’s seeing you. He’s not just touching someone, kissing someone, he’s with you.

“I’m yours. Anything, my love. Everything I have. Show me.” He tells you while he gently removes your hand from his hair so he can make his journey south. It’s slow, and he kisses your clothed body every few inches during his descent until he reaches the waist of your jeans. He rests his head against your hip while his fingers work at your button fly. Each pop sends a jolt of anticipatory pleasure through you. You’re already writhing under his attention. He’s shushing you while he gently pulls your jeans down to your ankles and over your feet.

“You smell so sweet. I should have known, Sugar. This is better than I ever could have thought.” Eddie’s running his finger down your slit, over the cotton of your purple underwear. When you put them on this morning, you would not have admitted that you chose them for Eddie. They’re high cut with lace along the edges. Prettier than an everyday pair.

“You’re teasin’ me, Ed.” You manage to breathe the words out while your hips rock up to meet his finger. Your body is begging for more than what he’s giving you.

“Not teasin’. These are pretty,” Eddie hooks a finger under the waistband of your underwear, brushing against the soft hair underneath. He pulls them down so he can see you fully and lets out a breath of relief. “But not as pretty as this is.”

Eddie kisses your mound sweetly while a finger begins to dance between the lips of your pussy. He’s dipping into you gently, gathering the wetness there, before he adds more pressure. He’s mapping you, exploring with quiet patience. He’s listening, he’s tasting, he’s feeling. And then, while his mouth searches around the edges of your hips, his finger brushes against that spot. The one he’s only just learned about.

“There.” It’s a whisper, a prayer, spoken into the air around you. You only know he hears you when his mouth travels across your skin to meet the tip of his finger. He feels it now, he rubs at it, gently. He wants to memorize how it feels, he needs to know how to find it again. And then, his mouth is on your button. The tip of his tongue dances around.

You know there are words and sounds coming out of your mouth, and Eddie hears them all. While his mouth works, he doesn’t just listen to you, he hears you. Each sound, each word is an instruction. It’s a game of hotter and colder. He wants you to burn, to catch fire. So he hears you and moves accordingly.

You vaguely know that there are fingers inside of you, and you think you’ll have to teach him how to use them next time. Next time. You two have time. For now, you let yourself get lost in his mouth. You let him consume you. He knows what he’s doing now because you’ve taught him. He knows the secret that so many men never learn. Eddie is the best student when it comes to pleasure. When it comes to learning you.

Your orgasm builds quickly, your face is turned and buried in his pillow. You smell him on it while your hips rock up and meet his perfect mouth. Waves of pleasure that come faster and faster. His lips are holding tight to your nub. He’s never letting it go now that he knows what it can do. His fingers move with the rhythm of your hips, until it happens.

The sounds that leave your mouth are choked sobs. Your cunt is fluttering around his digits, and his mouth works you through each intense flash of pleasure. The stars behind your eyelids dance along with your body. You sit in your peak and groan like an animal until your body finally drops back into the mattress. Eddie’s mouth reluctantly pulls away from you when you firmly push his forehead away from you.

Eddie’s head rests against the bare flesh of your center. You can feel his hot breath fan across your wet pubic hair while you let the aftershocks slowly wane. You’re needy when you reach down and pull him up by the collar of his shirt. You need his face, you need his skin. You need his arms. He smells of you. His arms pull a blanket around your bare body. The cool air of the window unit has made your skin break out in gooseflesh. Eddie’s fingers run gently across your features, watching the way your open mouth still takes short and shallow breaths while you return to yourself.

He stays like that for a few moments. The uncomfortable cold and wet feeling in his pants becomes too much, and he gently shushes you when you reach out for him when he loosens his embrace.

“Just give me a minute, Sugar. Let me change.”

You watch him with blurry eyes as he deposits his pants and boxers, wet with his own cum, and puts on fresh clothes. You see his flaccid cock and think that next time you’ll show him how good your mouth can feel. You need a little nap first, in the embrace of Eddie. Your Eddie.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson au #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #no shelter

208 notes · View notes

tightjeansjavi · 4 months

Text

⟡ sentiments n’ bubbly ⟡

A/N: so, this one another one of my post shower thoughts that has now transformed into this little fic 🥹 this time of the year is a struggle for myself and for others, and I hope it can bring us all a bit of peace before the new year 🤍

~word count: 4.5k~

pairing | Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: it’s NYE and you find yourself in Joel Miller’s coffee shop. He’s a firm believer that no one deserves to spend New Year’s Eve alone.

Warnings: angst, fluff, no age gap, discussions of self image issues, bullying, food/eating, language, anxiety, fear of social situations, fomo, mentions of therapy, NYE blues, self deprecating thoughts, flirting, meet-cute, no outbreak/modern day AU, Sarah and Tommy exist in this universe, soft!joel, mentions of alcohol, reader has no physical descriptions such as body type or skin color, some content included may be triggering for some as Joel and the reader have some very real conversations about life. +18 minors dni!

It’s New Year's Eve. The official last day of the year. A whole 365 days has come and gone, and yet, you find yourself feeling the same way you did last year. It wasn’t like you had a particularly terrible life or anything of the sorts, but you still had your struggles. Your daily contemplations over whether you were doing enough, being enough in your little life. You try to focus on all the good that happened in those 365 days of life.

All the laughter, smiles, the warm fuzzy feelings that you found yourself chasing more often than none. The bad times always find their way to trickle in and weasel into your conscience like an infection. The truth is that you know life comes with both good and bad memories. But why is it so hard to push back the bad? Why is it so easy to beat yourself down? You could have done this better, you shouldn’t have said the things you said, did you remember to turn your out of office on before you left the office?

Shit. There was that one email I didn’t get to.

Maybe you find yourself trying to cram in as many last minute tasks before the new year. Closet clean out? You haven’t worn that sweater in months..yet, you find yourself holding onto it because it was a gift from a dear friend, and you don’t want to unintentionally hurt their feelings by donating or regifting it.

Fridge clean out? Well, it does say that horseradish never expires..but you can never be too careful!

Clean your living space from top to bottom? Maybe next year you’ll invest in cleaner products for both the earth and your brain cells. Bleach can be awfully nasty to deal with.

Your phone buzzes on the coffee table in front of you. Leftovers are your meal of choice for the evening. You spent hours cleaning your kitchen, and you’d rather not have to do another wipe down till tomorrow.

Hey, are you sure you don’t want to come out with us tonight? We’re leaving in an hour!

It's not that you don’t want to go out with your friends, it’s the steps before getting out the door that have always been a struggle for you.

What if my outfit doesn’t look the way I planned it out in my head?

What if I completely botch this makeup look?

What if the club is too packed?

You hate feeling this way, often thinking you’re a burden to your friends because you're constantly planning ahead of time. Living in the moment for you has always been tough. A gray area that sometimes you have found yourself making peace with, and other times you just wish you could be different.

You reach for your phone while you’re already mentally planning the steps in order to get ready in time. Being late is never an option, even when it’s just a fun night out in town.

Hey, I thought it over and I’d love to come out with you guys :) see you soon!

You send the text in a flash before tossing your half eaten slice of pizza onto the coffee table and rush to your room.

You tear up every inch of your closet looking for the perfect outfit. It's New Year’s Eve after all, and you want to be shimmering like a grand disco ball.

The outfit is on, and you look great! It turned out even better than you pictured it in your head. But the longer you stare in the mirror.

Fuck. Can’t I just turn my brain off for one night? Please?

And there it is, again. That gnawing little voice inside your head that pops up, gleaming and waving its hand just in case you forgot that it existed.

You aren’t actually going to wear that..are you?

It looks all wrong.

And you’re going to be freezing—

Your friends are going to look 10x better than you—

“ENOUGH!” You shout to no one in particular before you stomp off to the bathroom.

After taking a deep breath, you pull out your array of makeup from one of the bathroom drawers. Pinterest becomes your best friend again while you scroll to find a makeup look that screams you.

Bold. Glittery. Too much glitter?

There is never such a thing as too much glitter. You remind that little voice inside of your head.

Even with your ‘going out playlist’ on full blast, you feel your confidence begin to shrink and diminish as you stare at your painted face in the mirror. It’s not exactly like the picture you found on Pinterest, but there’s no time for you to change it now.

Your phone buzzes again, and this time it’s your friends sending you a group picture of all of them pregaming in their glittery outfits and bright smiles. You heart the message before typing back,

Wow, you guys look amazing! Please don’t be mad, I’m just not feeling up for it tonight. I hope you guys have a blast and stay safe! :)

Your friends understand, because they know that this has always been a struggle for you. A sore spot that hasn’t exactly quite healed the way you wish it had. It’s hard to dig yourself out of a hole that you dug, but you're grateful that they have always been so understanding.

No worries, we love you, and Happy New Year!

And all you feel is guilt.

But instead of wallowing away in your apartment, you grab your coat, purse and keys before making the final decision to go out.

You find yourself outside of a coffee shop just down the block from your apartment. You passed by it everyday during your commute to work, but you never found yourself going in, until now.

The coffee shop is found to be empty as most people are already out to dinner or at a party. It’s somewhat comforting that it’s just you and the lone barista who hadn’t heard you come in yet. His back is turned to you while he wipes down one of the counters, humming to himself as he moves about.

You're immediately drawn into how cozy everything feels. From the decor to the crackling fireplace to the soft music playing through the speakers.

The man turns then, towel gently grasped in his hand when he finally registers that he’s no longer alone. He takes in your attire, finding it odd that someone all dressed up for the evening found themselves here. Then he remembered how his daughter told him it’s rude to judge strangers because you never know what the next person is going through.

He smiles warmly instead. “Hey there, I was uh—jus’ about to close up for the evenin’ but can I get you anythin?’” He’s got a face that you already know you’re going to have a hard time forgetting. Strong built frame, yet soft in all the right places and despite his exterior appearing to be hardened, he seems friendly enough.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I hadn’t noticed that you were closing up for the night..I don’t want to keep you here. I can always come back another time?”

He detects the way your face slightly begins to fall as he lightly taps his fingers along the counter top he just finished wiping down. “S’alright. I forgot to change the sign out front so that’s all on me. So, what can I get ya? It’s on the house.” He gestured to the menu board above his head.

You hesitated for a moment as you didn’t want to inconvenience this man who probably had his own New Year’s Eve plans to get to. “Are you..sure? I really don’t mind coming back another day.”

“S’alright, I promise. I don’t have anywhere important I need to be anyway.” He said with a slight shrug.

“No fun New Year's Eve plans? And I’ll take a cappuccino, please.” You stepped closer to the counter as you reached into your purse for your wallet.

“Nah. ‘Supposed to meet my brother at a bar nearby for a couple drinks, but he can wait a little longer.” He was already reaching his hand out to stop you from pulling out your wallet, when your eyes met his.

“For the tip.” You said with a smile while placing a couple five dollar bills into the tip jar.

“Oh, thank you. ‘Awfully kind of ya.” He responds softly, out of surprise because most people never bothered to tip. He might even be blushing a little..but he can’t really tell. Maybe it was just the steam from the espresso machine.

“It’s no problem. Gotta support small businesses, y’know?”

He nods in understanding. “Yeah, it’s the least people can do. Anyway, I’ll get that Cappuccino goin’ for ya. Feel free to sit wherever.” He gestured to the empty tables.

The table closest to the fireplace ended up being the one you ultimately chose. It happened to also be his favorite spot as well, go figure.

On any other occasion, Joel would call the customer's name once their drink was ready, but given the current circumstances..and the fact that he hadn’t asked for your name, bringing the coffee to you was perfectly acceptable.

“Here’s that Cappuccino for ya.” His voice drawled above you as he set the mug down in front of you. “Let me know if I can getcha anythin’ else. I’ll just be in the back finishin’ up with the cleanin.’”

“Thank you..�� you start to say before realizing that you don’t know this man’s name either.

“Joel.” He clears his throat. “My name is Joel, and you are?..”

You tell him your name and he nods with a small smile.

You're left alone to your thoughts as his footsteps disappear behind the countertop once more. You can faintly hear him busying himself and putzing around as your cappuccino begins to cool without you realizing it.

You find yourself vacantly staring through the windows, and the dimly lit streets and passerby’s. You’ve always had a fond love for people watching and imagining what their lives were like. What their jobs and aspirations were. Did they have a family waiting for them? What made them happy? Would they be able to relate to you?

You don’t even hear Joel’s approaching footsteps nearing the table until he’s saying your name with an edge of concern in his voice because you’ve neglected to have a single sip of your cappuccino that has now become room temperature.

Your eyes meet his deep brown warm ones as your own sense of confusion washes over you.

“Is everythin’ alright? You haven’t touched your cappuccino at all..” he’s not offended, nor hurt, but the empath in him is genuinely concerned, even though you’re just a stranger in his coffee shop.

“Oh.” Your voice falls flat. “I’m so sorry, Joel. I guess I got lost in my own thoughts and completely forgot about it.” You feel bad, awful actually because he took the time to make you this drink, and all you had to do was just drink it—

“Hey, it’s alright. I find myself getting lost in my own thoughts as well. But, I can’t have ya drinkin’ a cold Cappuccino. I’ll make you a new one, alright? It’s no trouble at all.” He’s already reaching over to grab the mug.

“Joel, are you sure? You really don’t have to—”

He cuts you off reassuringly, “I insist. I won’t have my customer drinkin’ a cold Cappuccino on my watch. Ain’t no way.”

He disappears back behind the counter before you are able to protest. Joel returns 10 minutes later with two mugs in hand. You listen to the sound of the chair across from you scraping before he slowly sits down.

“I uh—hope you don’t mind me joinin’ ya? You jus’ seem like you could use some company, darlin.’ S’that alright for me to call you darlin?’”

He’s sweet like warm sticky molasses and honey. He actually might be the nicest guy you’ve met in a long long time.

“Oh, I don’t mind at all, Joel. I could actually use the company, and you can call me darling. That’s alright with me too.”

He smiles at you over the rim of his mug that is clasped between his hands. He gently blows on the billowing steam before he takes a small sip. “So, do you have any fun plans for the evenin’? I’m only assumin’ cus’ you’re all dressed up for a night out in town.” He gestures to your glittery getup that sparkles under the warm flames.

“Well, I did have plans to meet up with some friends tonight..but I wasn’t feeling up for it in the end and somehow ended up here.” You said with a sigh before taking a sip of your own Cappuccino. “This is delicious, by the way.”

“How come?..if ya don’t mind me askin?’ And I’m glad you’re enjoyin’ it. Tastes a lot better when it’s hot.”

The last thing you expected tonight was to engage in a conversation about your daily anxieties with this absolutely gorgeous man. Whom you just met, but crazier things have happened before.

“I don’t mind you asking, Joel. I just don’t want to burden you with my troubles or anything. Especially since I think they’re a bit silly and blown out of proportion.” Your eyes casted downwards into the mug.

“Hey, I doubt you can do that, and between you and me? I’ve heard it all. Got a teenage daughter who’s goin’ through all the things that I’m tryin’ to understand..but as a single father, it’s fuckin’ tough sometimes. But I’d be happy to act as a listenin’ ear for ya.” He genuinely means it, too.

“You have a daughter? How old is she? Teenagers can be a handful, that is very true.” You responded thoughtfully while leaning back against the chair.

You watch the way his eyes light up like a Christmas tree when you show a genuine interest in this man’s life. It’s sometimes a rare occurrence to meet a stranger who you feel like you can just immediately open up to without thinking too hard about it.

“She just turned 13 this year. She’s a good kid, super smart. The kinda kid that probably will end up growin’ up and changin’ the world. She’s..well, my world.” He clears his throat and you notice his dimple poking out in his cheek.

As if this man couldn’t become any more attractive.

“Anyway, she’s already goin’ through some friend and boy drama and it’s jus’ a lot to keep up with. Her mom ain’t in the picture either, so it’s not like I can turn to her for any guidance. She went to her first ever school dance this year in a dress that she picked out. The next thing I know, she’s callin’ me up in tears because some kids thought it was okay to make fun of how she looked. I know kids can be mean sometimes, but I wanted to go in there and teach those little shits a lesson myself.”

He was quite the protective father.

“Kids can be real bitches sometimes, Joel. I never quite understood it myself. Especially since I’m sure your daughter was just minding her own business and having a good time? I learned at a very young age that there’s a lot of jealous people in this world that enjoy causing pain in others for no apparent reason.They might have their own struggles, but that is no justification. Those kids that bullied your daughter will hopefully learn from their mistakes sooner rather than later.”

“She was just mindin’ her own and having a great time. She was so excited to wear her dress. It jus’ makes me so goddamn angry because I can’t protect her from everythin’ out there. It’s somethin’ that I’ve really struggled with this year especially. And I’ve tried to talk to my brother about it, but he doesn’t get it either.” Joel said with a sigh. “I’m glad that you can understand all of this though. I don’t really have any female friends to talk to about this stuff either.”

“Most kids grow out of their ‘mean’ phase after highschool. I can admit that I went through a phase similar to that. Made a lot of mistakes that I had to hold myself accountable for. But, with your love and support, I think your daughter is gonna end up being okay. She’s lucky to have you as a dad.” You reassure him.

“Really? You don’t seem like the type of person to ever hurt someone..then again, I ain’t perfect either. Never have been, never will. I’ve had my own regrets as well. But, I appreciate all that you’re sayin.’ S’Nice to be validated every now and then.” He leans forward with his elbows resting along the table and you’re just beginning to notice how broad his shoulders truly are under his faded flannel.

“I don’t think anyone can ever claim to be perfect. We don’t know everything and can make genuine mistakes. But all we can really do is learn from them, make it up to the people we may have hurt, and move forward. I think you’re a really nice person, based on our conversation, Joel.”

“You’re right, darlin.’ No one in this world can claim they are perfect. It's impossible.” His knee brushed yours gently from how close he was leaning in giving you a clear indication that he was actively listening to everything you were saying. “Anyway, I’m sorry I went off on that tangent jus’ now when we were talkin’ about your New Year’s Eve plans.”

“Dammit.” You sighed with a smile tugging on your lips. “I thought you forgot all about that.”

“Nah. I’m pretty good at rememberin’ even if I find myself havin’ to circle back. So, you didn’t feel up to meeting’ your friends tonight?”

“I was going to, truly. But I just got into my head way too much. It started with finding an outfit to wear. I absolutely tore my closet up and I’m really dreading having to clean it up later. Anyway, I’ve got the outfit on, right?”

He nods while taking another sip of his Cappuccino.

“I’m feeling great, and loving the way the outfit looks on me, and then there’s that stupid mean voice inside my brain. You know the one?”

“Ahh yeah. The voice that tells us that we’re unattractive and worthless? Like when we put on our favorite outfit and it’s not fitting quite right, and we know it’s silly to cry over clothes..but sometimes we just can’t help it? And that voice is right there beating us down because sometimes we forget that it’s natural for our bodies to change?”

Damn, he’s good.

“So...you hear that voice sometimes too? I honestly thought I was alone in this feeling. I tend to keep these thoughts to myself because I don’t want to burden others, y’know? I do see a therapist, though. It definitely has helped a lot, but I’m still struggling.”

“Darlin,’ I know exactly where you’re comin’ from. I had these favorite pairs of jeans that I would wear pretty much everyday. Well, just this past month I found that they ain’t fittin’ the way they used to. The zipper wouldn’t budge, and then I spent a good hour tryin’ all the tricks in the book to get those suckers to fit. Well, none of it worked and then I started beatin’ myself up. Sayin’ all the nasty names I could come up with. Then after all of that, I thought about all the delicious meals I had this year and especially these damn ice cream sundaes that my kid is obsessed with. Suddenly, the jeans not fittin’ didn’t bother me as much anymore.”

“Ice cream sundaes are delicious, and even more-so when you are enjoying them with your daughter. I pretty much went through the exact thing that you’re describing. I know that we shouldn’t give into the societal bullshit of looking a certain way to appear more attractive, but it’s just hard sometimes. That’s why I try to cycle through my closet every now and then so I’m not holding onto clothing that doesn’t fit me anymore. Did you end up keeping the jeans?..”

“She’s been requestin’ them for dessert pretty much every night, and I have a hard time tellin’ her no. They are absolutely delicious. It is definitely hard to pass them up sometimes. It’s comforting to know that other people go through the exact same thing that we’ve gone through. I did in fact donate the jeans, and then bought a new pair the same day. Wearin’ ‘em now actually, and I gotta say, I think I look quite good in ‘em if I do say so myself.” He said in a cheeky tone that sent heat rising on your cheeks.

“Well, I think you should stand up, if you feel comfortable doing so, that is, and let’s see what this jeans talk is all about.”

He grins at you, eyebrows playfully dancing while he sets his mug down along the table before pushing his chair back to stand up.

He gives you a little spin, one that neither you were expecting, but you could tell that he was having fun showing off his new denim.

“Okay, respectfully? Those jeans look amazing on you, they are very flattering, Joel.”

He laughs a warm and hearty laugh as his cheeks turn beet red from your words. Even if you’re just playing along, he’s feeling charmed by your presence.

“Really? Y’know, I was thinkin’ the same thing and a’that..but I’m a pretty humble guy.” He said sheepishly.

“Joel, screw being humble. You’re wearing those jeans like they’re made for you! You gotta own that.” You said with a giggle.

“Alright. Alright. If ya say so, darlin.’ I appreciate the compliment, but have ya taken a look at yourself tonight? You’re glitterin’ like a goddamn mirror ball. Gonna blind me with all that sparkle Y’got goin’ on.” He’s flirting, now. He’s absolutely shamelessly flirting with you.

You find yourself leaning forward then, close enough that he can see the pretty shimmer painted on your eyelids and your undeniable flirty smile.

“Joel, are you flirting with me right now?” You’re feeling bold, and curious to know if you were reading the signs correctly, or letting your brain run a muck in theories.

“I am, darlin.’ Is that..alright? Cus’ if it makes you feel uncomfortable, I can stop.”

“No, please continue to flirt away. I’m glad that you’re getting to see my outfit, Joel. I probably have glitter in places where glitter doesn’t belong.” You said with a light, airy laugh.

“You’ll be finding little bits of glitter all over the place well within the next year. Do you have any to spare?” He asked with a warm chuckle.

“Actually..I do have some to spare.” You reached for your purse along the side of the chair and pulled out your tube of glitter eyeshadow that you had brought just in case you needed any touch ups. “May I?”

“Oh, you really weren’t kiddin’ when you said you have some to spare, huh?” He leaned in closer to get a better look. “That’s a really pretty color, darlin.’ You think I can pull that off?”

“I don’t kid when it comes to my glitter, Joel.” You said teasingly. “I absolutely think you can pull this color off. But, I’ll need you to close your eyes so I can apply this more eveningly.”

“Okay, I’m trustin’ you, darlin.’” He slowly closed his eyes then and only flinched a little when he felt the applicator glide across his eyelid. “Sorry, wasn’t it expectin’ to feel that damn cold.” He murmured softly.

“No worries, Joel. It can be a bit ticklish at times.” You scooted your chair in closer to him so both of your knees were tucked in between his as you delicately applied the shimmering shadow. Your tongue was peeking out between your lips as you focused on the task at hand.

He tried to peek his eye open once, before you playfully scolded him and said, no peeking.

To which he grumbled out a response with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Am I pretty yet, darlin?’” He asked with his eyes still shut as you admired your work.

“Very pretty, Joel. Okay, you can go ahead and open them.” You pulled out a little handheld mirror from your purse and held it out for him to admire his appearance.

He opened his eyes, blinking a few times to get used to the feeling before he averted his attention to the mirror you were holding. “Oh, shit. Wow. Y’know what..I actually think I like it.” He looked over at you then before he realized how close you were sitting to him. “Thank you, darlin’ I feel like I’m a mirror ball too.”

“It really brings out your eyes, Joel. They were already pretty before, but now, they’re even more beautiful.”

You were already forgetting about how awful you felt earlier, and the guilty feelings for turning down your friend's offer to go out. It admittedly felt nice to talk to another person that shared more things in common with you than you realized. To be validated, and in turn, validate someone as well? It felt really, really good inside.

“So, now that we’re both glittered up, and it’s two hours till the start of the new year, would you maybe care to join me for a drink? Only if you’re feeling up for it, that is.” Joel asked you with his eyes flickering back to yours. Truthfully, he’s happy that you somehow found yourself in his coffee shop tonight. He can’t remember the last time he’s connected with someone on such a deep and personal level.

“I’d love to get a drink with you, Joel.” You don’t even second guess your answer, and if the feelings come up later, so be it. That little voice inside of your head is nowhere to be found as Joel offers you his arm.

You help him finish closing up for the night before the two of you find yourselves walking arm in arm to the bar that his brother Tommy was at. During your walk, you find yourselves falling back into conversation that flows easy like a steady stream. When you bring up feeling guilty for often being a homebody, he reassures you that wanting to spend a quiet evening with yourself is perfectly normal, and it’s something you shouldn’t feel ashamed of. He goes on to add that if you want to go out more, that’s perfectly okay to do as well. But you should never pressure yourself to go out and have a good time, if that’s truly not what you want to do.

And when you find Joel’s brother at the high top with a glass of bubbly in front of him, the first thing that comes out of his mouth is, “Joel, what is that on your face?” He leans in close to inspect the glitter shadow painted on Joel’s eyelids.

You and Joel turn to one another with two knowing smiles plastered on your faces before you laugh in unison, “it’s glitter, of course!”

banners made by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

I no longer have a tag list so please follow @tightjeansjaviupdates for fic updates and notifications!

258 notes · View notes

lucy90712 · 2 months

Text

Brother’s best friend- Hector Fort

WC: 2.5k

One rule 'no dating my teammates'.

One rule 'my sister is off limits'.

We each had one rule to follow but of course you always want what you can't have. I didn't mean to break the rule it really wasn't my intention but when Marc took me to one of his training sessions I was drawn to Hector straight away. Not only was he by far the most attractive guy there he was also really sweet to me and maybe a little flirty which only made me want him more. For a while I held back as my brothers words circled round my brain every time I thought about getting to know Hector better but eventually the attraction was too much to ignore it was like we were drawn to each other.

It started out innocently we would just talk to each other while he had a break in training and I'd hang out with him when Marc invited him over. That innocence didn't last long though as when we finally exchanged numbers, without Marc's knowledge of course, all we did was flirt with each other which led to us arranging a secret date. I was nervous for the date as I want sure if we would have a real connection or if it's just easy for us to flirt with each other but we actually got on really well and there was definitely a connection there. We went on a few more dates before he asked me to be his girlfriend which was a good 6 months ago now. Over those 6 months we have only told a total of 3 people one of them was my best friend as I use going to see her as an excuse to see Hector and the other two are some of Hector and Marc's teammates as they caught us kissing after a game once. Everyone that knows is sworn to secrecy and so far they've kept that up because they know if Marc finds out they knew they'll be in trouble too.

As much as it's been hard to hide things from Marc it's definitely worth it. Seeing as it's the one rule he set if he finds out he's definitely going to be mad at both me and Hector. He's a great brother but he's definitely over protective but I guess that comes with being my older brother even if it is just by a few minutes. There are times that I worry he'll find out without me even saying anything because he'll sense that I'm lying. They say twins always have a special connection which is definitely true for me and Marc but he's yet to figure out that I'm hiding something from him which is almost unheard of as I've never kept a secret from him for more than a week before.

Recently it's become harder to hide everything as Hector and I want to spend more time together but that means I have to have more excuses to go out or sleep somewhere else and I can only think of so many. To try and help keep things under wraps Hector has been coming over more as he can hang out with Marc and then secretly break away to spend time with me. That's exactly what's happening today Hector wanted to see me so he made out like he wanted to spend time with my brother so he's coming over and I'll join them so I can be with Hector.

Time seemed to really drag on but eventually I heard the front door and two voices downstairs which meant they were finally home. As much as I wanted to run down straight I couldn't as that would be weird and Marc would definitely ask questions so I waited a bit before grabbing my water bottle and heading downstairs. Like always my brother ignored my existence but Hector looked over and smiled so I smiled back and even kissed the air as my brother was far too focused on turning on the Xbox. Once I filled my water bottle I sat myself on the sofa next to Hector as there was still space next to him and he helpfully sat closest to the kitchen.

"Oh hey I didn't know you were home" Marc said finally acknowledging my presence

"You never do but I had homework to finish so I decided to stay in today and get it done" I said

"Well you can join us if you want that's if you want to be beaten again" he laughed

"Maybe I'll beat you this time I've been practicing" I said

"Since when?" He asked

"Oh while you're at training I've been practicing" I replied

That was a lie I've been playing with Hector at his place but luckily I can think quickly and Marc still seems none the wiser. We all played fifa for a while and of course I didn't beat Marc but I definitely did better than I used to so Hector's coaching has really helped me out. I took a break from playing to make dinner for everyone but the boys kept playing after dinner. Eventually it got dark and time went on so Marc suggested that Hector stay over as it was late and they both had training in the morning. Sometimes it's just too easy this is exactly what I was hoping would happen and yet again my brother pulls through in helping me break the one rule he set for me which he does more than he knows.

I left and got myself ready for bed then all I had to do was wait. My phone kept me entertained until my bedroom door opened slowly to reveal my lovely boyfriend who was trying to be as quiet as possible so that my brother wasn't alerted that he was here. Once he made it past all the squeaky floor boards and to the other side of my bed he hopped in and opened his arms for me. Of course I immediately attached myself to Hector and he wrapped his arms around me as tightly as he could. He peppered kisses all over my face before his lips finally met mine in a passionate kiss which I've been waiting for all day.

"I've missed you" Hector said kissing me again

"I've missed you too" I replied

"You know maybe we should tell Marc we've been together for a while now and I hate not being able to see you as much as I want and having to sneak around is getting harder" I said

"I would love to not have to hide things but I value my life too much you know he would kill me if he found out that we're together especially for as long as we have been" he said

"I know but one day we have to say something we can't live like this forever" I pointed out

"I know but let's leave it a bit longer if he hasn't found out when we've been together for a year we can tell him then" Hector reasoned

"Fine but until then you better give me lots of love" I laughed

"Don't you worry I will give you everything I've got to give" he smiled

Hector and I stayed up longer than we probably should've but we just wanted to make the most of the time together. We had to wake up early too so that Hector could leave my room before Marc wakes up but spending the time together was definitely worth the lack of sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~

Marc didn't catch me and Hector when he stayed in my room the other night and last night I said I was staying with my best friend but really I spent the night at Hector's. We had a great time he set up candles and cooked dinner so we could have a romantic meal together which was really nice as we never get to do that because we can't go out together. I really enjoyed getting to spend a romantic evening with Hector as we don't get to spend much time together and we never really get to have proper dates unless Marc is away which isn't very often. Hector really stuck to his promise too as he made me feel so loved and definitely gave me everything he's got all night long.

Sadly he had to leave for training quite early but he let me stay until I needed to leave for school and let me lock up with the spare key he gave me a little while back. As soon as I arrived at school people were giving me weird looks which I thought was odd but sometimes this happens when Marc does something good with the team as people know we are twins. It was only when I got the same look from my friends that I started to consider it was something to do with me that was garnering all this attention. To begin with they wouldn't tell me simply just giggling thinking that I was joking around but I wasn't I had no idea what was so funny.

"Seriously guys what's going on what have I done?" I asked

"Have you seriously not noticed" one of my friends laughed

"Noticed what?" I asked getting annoyed

"The hickeys on your neck I mean they are everywhere and they don't exactly blend in" my best friend finally said

"Shit I didn't notice I got ready really quickly this morning I didn't really pay any attention" I panicked

"Is it really that bad?" I then asked

"It's definitely bad you will want to try and cover them before you see your brother if you don't want him to kill you" another friend said

"And Hector" my best friend added

"Wait these are from Hector" one friend said

"I thought you weren't allowed to date your brother's teammates" another added

"First off yes Hector we've been dating for a while but we've been keeping it quiet clearly until now and second no I'm not supposed to date any of the boys in the team which is why Marc will kill us both if he finds out" I spiralled

"Don't worry about it right now you should get home first just put some concealer on and keep it on until the bruises are gone" my best friend said trying to calm me down

"You're right and remember no one say anything about Hector as you'll be on trial for being involved in our murders ok" I said

They all promised me and we headed to our first class. In every class I sat with my hand covering my neck as I don't need anyone else wondering who seemingly assaulted my neck and I definitely don't want the teachers seeing. It was a long day with all the looks I was getting the boys teasing me asking who the lucky guy was as usually no one comes near me as they are all scared of Marc. Eventually though the end of the day came and I practically ran home to cover up the bruises which only seemed to get worse throughout the day.

When I finally got a good look at myself in the mirror I could see what everyone was looking it was bad like really bad. As soon as I get the chance I'm definitely going to kill Hector for this as not only was it embarrassing to look like this at school I now I have to be really careful not to rub off the concealer I'll need on my neck for the next few days. Once I started applying makeup to my neck I realised that not even my best concealer was going to fix this. You could still see the deep purple marks under no matter how much I put on so in the end I just took it all off. I'd rather have Marc see the hickeys as they are than see my attempt to cover them as I know he'll be more suspicious if I'm trying to hide them. The only thing I did was put some cream on that will hopefully help the bruises go away a bit quicker. Seeing as there was nothing I could do I just had to wait to see what would happen when Marc came home.

The front door opening and closing startled me as I wasn't expecting Marc to be home for another hour but in he came along with Hector. Marc barely walked a few steps in before he stopped and silence filled the room. He looked at me then my neck and I looked at him then at Hector who's jaw might as well have been on the floor he was that shocked looking at what he'd done. Then it happened Marc turned to Hector and saw his expression and suddenly the vibe in the room changed. I watched Marc as his hands balled up into fists and anger filled his eyes. I don't know how but he knew he finally figured it out.

"Are you serious" Marc broke the silence

"Have you seriously been fucking my sister behind my back" he pretty much screamed

"What no why would you think that" Hector said clearly panicked

"Well my sisters neck looks like a vampire attacked it and you had scratches all down your back this morning so unless this is a huge coincidence there is something going on here" Marc continued to scream

"Ok fine I'll admit that I did that but it's not just sex I promise" Hector said

"Yeah we've been together for over 6 months now we aren’t just fuck buddies we are actually together" I added

"There was one rule for both of you and you broke it and then thought you could hide it from me how long did you plan to keep this a secret forever until you were married" Marc raged

"I'll admit we should've told you sooner but we both knew we were breaking the rules and didn't want this to happen but I can say with full confidence that I love your sister I really do I would never dream of hurting her she's everything to me so I'm sorry we hid this but we just didn't want to anger you" Hector explained

"Do you really love her?" Marc asked calming down slightly

"I do she makes me so happy and I love her a lot" Hector said

"Do you love him?" Marc asked me

"Yeah he treats me well and he puts a smile on my face" I said

"I guess if you two are happy together there's nothing I can do but no kissing in front of me or I will kill you both and if you ever hurt her bro I won't hesitate to beat your ass" Marc threatened

"Understood" Hector said

"Thank you for understanding we really are happy together I'm just sorry you had to find out this way" I said hugging Marc then going over to Hector

Hector smiled at me and held my waist gently which actually put a small smile on Marc's face. I don't think it will be long before he comes to terms with our relationship and lets us be but for now I don't think I want to test that theory.

#hector fort #hector fort x reader #hector fort imagine #football imagine

150 notes · View notes

hazelchooseme · 6 months

Text

A mistake I don't regret | Hazel Callahan.

AU established in the modern world

I don't know what's happening to me but I can't seem to stop writing. So I wrote this 👍

English is not my first language.

Song recommendation: I Know Places by Taylor Swift

Enjoy 🧡

"I finished." You celebrated by throwing your arms up and your head back, you could already feel the end of the semester at the tips of your fingers, you just had to hand in a few assignments, pass a test and you would be completely free for 3 months. The best moment of your life is coming, the holidays.

"I'm going now." You turned to Hazel's voice coming out of the hallway, she was dressed in brown jeans and a green flannel, the gray shoes were the same color as the backpack that hung from one shoulder. She stopped behind you, resting her hands on your shoulders and leaning down to look at the computer screen. "Now that you're done, are you sure you don't want to go?"

"I need to turn my brain off with a low-budget movie with lousy audio, but thanks."

"Good luck finding one worse than the one we saw yesterday." She told you as she messed up your hair.

From what you understood, Josie had received a new video game so she wanted to have a sleepover to try it out, she invited all the girls to spend the night together but this week had consumed you so you had to decline, you knew that Annie would bring her brownies and not being able to try them broke your heart, luckily Hazel knew you well enough that she promised to bring you some, you didn't know what would happen to you without her.

Getting up from the chair you followed Hazel to the door to say goodbye, this had become a routine that you had developed in the 4 years you lived together, every time one went out the other would leave her at the door, they had been doing it for so long that you no longer remembered who had started it.

"Tell them I said hello." You said, leaning on the nearby wall with your arms crossed watching the blue-eyed girl put on her shoes.

"Okay, I'll remind them not to call you so they don't bother you."

"Also remind PJ not to drink so much, I won't be there to clean up the vomit."

"I know." Putting on a red baseball cap in front of the mirror you had in the hallway, she sighed with false sadness. "We will miss you very much."

"Asshole."

Listening to her laugh you were grateful for having crossed paths with her in your life, she was one of the kindest, sweetest, most attentive people you had ever met. You met about 6 years ago when you moved in the middle of your high school years, you connected almost immediately that when you managed to get into college moving in together was more than decided. Everything had been perfect until now, or at least it was until you developed a crush on her earlier this year. It had started when she excitedly told you how she had started talking to a new girl, in the past when she did it you were genuinely happy for her, after all she deserved the best and more, but at that moment you felt like you had been punched in the stomach and spit in your face, the jealousy didn't last that long since that relationship lasted about 3 months, but afterwards you still felt guilty for feeling that way with your best friend.

"Take." You handed her the keys to your car, it was a fairly old one but it kept running, which was the important thing.

"Are you sure? I can order an Uber."

"Take it, it's much safer this way."

"Thank you." She said taking the keys and putting them in her pocket.

She began to approach so you began to stretch your arms waiting to receive the usual hug, when suddenly Hazel's left hand traveled up to your cheek and her lips collided with yours. Although you had looked at her lips an embarrassing number of times you could never imagine how soft they would be, it was just a small pressure but you could still feel something exploding in your chest and your pulse was beating so fast that you could hear it in your ears. You stretched out your right arm catching her waist but as soon as it started it ended and she pulled away from you.

"Tomorrow I'll arrive early so we can have breakfast together." And with one last toss of your hair she walked out the door.

What the fuck just happened?

Hearing the commotion from outside Hazel entered the house without knocking, at this point those formalities were not necessary with the trust they already had. Humming a song, she entered the kitchen to leave some snacks and drinks that she had bought for the night. After having almost everything organized, she called Josie to help her carry everything to the room.

"Hello Haze, what's up?"

"Glasses please." She ordered as she opened a Coke. "And nothing very interesting, did they all arrive?"

"Sep, you're the last to arrive. How is Judas?" She asked, leaving the glasses on the table and eating some potatoes that were on a plate.

Mr G had once called you that after he caught you cheating on a test, they never let you forget it.

"Well, she just finished some work so she was going to rest."

"More food for us then."

"By the way, is there alcohol? She asked me to take care of—."

But before she could finish saying anything, an image came into her head. Your mouth, her mouth, together. Holy shit. Dropping the glass of drink she put both hands on her head as she cursed. No. No. No. It couldn't be, she couldn't have done what she was remembering that she had done, that she had done to you.

"Hazel what the fuck? What happened, are you okay?"

It had to be some trick of her mind, it just couldn't be real, but it was, what the fuck had she done?

"Hey, what's wrong? Are you having a heart attack?"

"What happened, why so much noise?" She could hear someone's voice in the background but she couldn't identify who.

"I think she's having a stroke."

"What?!"

Trying to control her breathing, she turned to see the two girls who were in the kitchen with her.

"I kissed her." She whispered, unable to say it out loud.

"What?"

"I kissed her." She managed to articulate more clearly.

"What? Who?" Making eye contact with Annie she didn't need to say anything else, they had understood.

"Holy shit." Josie said with wide eyes.

"Was it with tongue?" Sylvie asked as she had just entered the kitchen.

"I kissed her." She repeated to herself without being able to believe it.

Leaving the video game more than forgotten, everyone settled into Josie's room as best they could.

"Why the fuck do you kiss her if you're going to regret it later? What a pussy." PJ judged Hazel sitting upside down in a chair.

"I didn't realize what I was doing, don't judge me."

"We don't judge you, we make fun of you." Sylvie clarified.

"But seriously, how do you kiss someone by accident? Aren't you hiding something from us?"

Although Annie's question was not intended to upset or offend, Hazel couldn't help but feel a hint of discomfort upon hearing it. Sure, you were her best friend and she loved you very much but it's not like she had those kinds of feelings towards you, right?

"I don't, I don't know what you mean."

"Looks like." PJ stung with intention.

Well, maybe she thought about you more than she should or looked at you for long periods of time when you didn't realize it, thinking how beautiful you were, but you were best friends, that's what they do, they care about each other and think they are the most beautiful people they have ever seen. What they probably didn't do was kiss each other and not feel a bit of remorse, because yes, Hazel didn't regret having kissed you, in fact, she had enjoyed it and suddenly found herself wanting to leave everything here and go home to finish what she had started.

"Oh my god, you want to fuck her so bad." PJ exclaimed when she saw the blush appear on the blue-eyed girl's face.

"Don't talk about her like that." It was the only thing she could say before remaining silent again with her head racing.

Okay, she could admit to feeling a small attraction towards you, something insignificant, or was it something more than that?

Suddenly a conversation came to her mind, one that she had with her ex-girlfriend before breaking up a few months ago, one where she complained that Hazel spent too much time talking about you and that she should choose between her or you. Swallowing hard, she remembered how she chose you in a heartbeat, without any regrets afterwards, because maybe, and only maybe, it was always you.

"I'm so screwed." She admitted with his face in her hands.

"Think positive, I had started to think that you were the problem with all your relationships ending, and that was the case, so."

"How is that positive?"

"That I was right."

She silently thanked Brittany for hitting PJ on the head.

Exhaling she turned to Isabel. "So, what do I do now?"

"Amm, I can help too, you know." Josie said hurt.

"Shut up, no, you can't, in your first kiss with Isa you almost fainted." Sylvie reminded her.

"Did you tell them?" She asked, very offended.

"Not now, baby."

"Okay."

"Look, Hazel, we can give you a thousand tips but the only way to clarify everything is to talk to her."

"I don't know, I don't even know if she likes me." She suddenly remembered something that made her want to dig a hole in the ground and never get out of it. "Holy fuck! I kissed her without even asking her, I'm a disgusting person."

"Oh please, if she hadn't been dying for you to do it." Annie told her, looking at her as if she were stupid.

"What?"

"It's true, she was dying those months you were dating that girl at the beginning of the year." Brittany said after a silence. "It was too obvious, actually."

"No, that was for something else, she told me. Why would she lie to me?"

"Why are you so worried about the kiss you just gave her?"

Confused by Isabel's sudden question, She decided to just answer it. "Because I don't want to screw up our friendship obviously." The raised eyebrows of everyone in the room made her understand. "Ah."

"Yes, ah, so now get up and go eat her mouth, you both deserve it." In the middle of her realization, PJ had walked towards her to pull her by one arm out of the room to leave her outside the house and close the door in her face.

Without really understanding what was happening, she got into the car and began driving towards her house with the screams of her friends behind her.

"Yes, queen!"

"Go get some pussy!"

"Good luck."

"Don't be like Josie!"

"I was very brave when I kissed Isabel!"

Standing outside the apartment she couldn't have the strength to enter. Would you be sleeping or watching TV? Maybe you locked yourself in your room so you wouldn't see her, maybe you hated her. Pushing those thoughts out of her head, Hazel inserted the key into the lock and with a sigh she opened the door and entered the apartment.

Her first impression of the place is that it was exactly the same, your computer was still on the table next to an empty glass, both the hallway light and the kitchen light were on, the only thing different was the sound coming from the living room and the darkest sky. She took off her shoes, taking more time than necessary, to finally stand up and give herself a mental cheer, at the end of the day you had been the one who was kissed out of nowhere and you needed answers.

The first thing she saw was the movie you had put on, on the screen was a very 2000s looking movie that she didn't recognize, going a little further into the room she could finally see you, you were looking at the screen but it was very clear that your mind was somewhere else.

"I thought you were arriving tomorrow."

Hazel jumped a little in her place, she didn't expect you to have heard her coming.

She shifted in her position and with a hand on her neck she tried to find her voice. "I came earlier" How smart.

"Why?"

"Um, I have to talk to you, because of what... I did, because of what I did to you."

"What did you do to me?" This time you turned to see her. Hazel scared and worried eyes looked bright from the reflection of the TV, you could see how she couldn't sit still and her messy hair confirmed that she had passed her hands through it many times, a sign that she was anxious.

"Are you angry?"

"I'm confused." You responded.

Hazel nodded her head and moved a little closer to you but without sitting down.

"To be honest, I don't have a clear explanation for why I did what I did, I'm sorry if it inconveniences you and if you want me to leave I will do so immediately."

"You regret it." It wasn't a question, from the blue-eyed girl's reaction you were sure that she considered the kiss a mistake, but her response made you swallow your thoughts.

"Unless it made you uncomfortable, I would never regret it."

A little shaky, you slowly got up from the couch without breaking eye contact, you were tired of so many crossroads and unanswered questions.

"I liked you Hazel, I liked you so much that it hurts, and, and I didn't know what to do or say because-because losing you would be the worst thing that could happen to me, but, but then you kissed me and I went crazy and I realized that I don't like you. I love you Hazel. I can't live a life without telling you how I feel, 'cause some part of me hopes that you feel the same way."

Your hands itched to grab something to distract yourself but you refused to move, you wanted your words to reach her with nothing but pure sincerity.

"You love me? Me?" Hazel's voice came out shaky and her eyes grew brighter with tears.

Shit, had you been too direct? There was no longer an opportunity to retract it and you didn't want to, if this was the end you were going to repeat it as many times as necessary. "Yes Hazel, I love you."

In less than three seconds Hazel was all over you, the impact of the body almost threw you back but her arms around you stabilized you, her face was buried in your neck and one of her legs was between yours. Although it was a fairly tight and suffocating hug, you never felt lighter and calmer.

"I love you too, you have no idea how much I love you." She said making her breathing tickle you. So you laughed as you wrapped her in your arms too, your chin ended up on her head where you placed a kiss and heard several I love yous coming out of Hazel's mouth.

You hugged each other for what seemed like an eternity, both of you holding onto each other not wanting to let the other go. After another while Hazel raised her head and one of her hands went to your cheek, where she caressed your cheekbone with her thumb.

"I love you." She said again with a smile full of emotions. Love, calm but excitement, happiness.

"I love you." You repeated to her, feeling the same way.

A shaky sigh escaped her lips directing your attention to them, you had kissed those same lips a few hours ago.

"Can I kiss you?" You asked with as much self-control as you could muster.

She didn't even respond to you when her mouth collapsed on yours, the hallway kiss had been just a small bump, two lips together just sharing an innocent moment, but this kiss was the opposite. Her mouth moved desperately over yours, while one of her hands went to your neck where she began to play with your hair, the other remained firm on your hip, keeping you glued to her. Tasting your lower lip you opened your mouth allowing her entry to explore, your hands went under her shirt, you were grateful that it was a loose fabric as it gave you more freedom to touch everything you could. With a shudder she pushed you towards the couch where, changing position, she sat down and you fell on top of her. Her wet tongue began to run along your neck, her hands went to your hair, pulling your head back so she could explore everything about you, your hands went in the direction of her bra that you unclasped almost expertly. Her mouth returned to yours where she began to leave wetter but slower kisses, her two hands went to your lower back, pressing you closer to her, after a few seconds the kiss began to become a little calmer to end with her placing small kisses all over your face, laughing breathlessly you rested your head on her neck.

"Are we something now?" You asked stupidly, it was obvious that oxygen still wasn't reaching your brain.

"Shit I hope so because I need to kiss you like that again."

With a sigh of relief you moved away from her neck so you could look into her eyes.

"Hazel, I love you."

"And that's why I'm the luckiest girl in the world." Savoring the moment, and her lips, you decided this was the best moment of your life, screw the holidays.

#hazel callahan #ruby cruz #bottoms 2023 #bottoms movie #hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan x you #hazel x reader #lesbian #sapphic #wlw

298 notes · View notes

bodyswapmischief · 5 months

Text

Andrew's Holiday Part 2 (An Interactive Story)

Part 1 Part 3

Andrew's mind raced as he lied next to Oscar, on the bed. He wondered why he felt so conflicted. He felt this strong duty pull on his heart. A duty to go home and to face his father. But, then another set of ideas would flood his mind. How, even at this moment, he wanted to be alone. He didn't want to disappoint people anymore. And, if he just stayed at school, he could be free. Free to spend his winter depressed, feeding that sadness that has been growing in him for months. His mind began to spiral. He felt his soul falling through the endless black void of his mind. His heart beating faster, his eyes holding back the forming tears. The deeper his consciousness fell down this path of thought, the more alarms triggered in his body. He was gonna crash and hard. He'd have a panic attack. His mind raced for a solution. But Andrew saw a light in the darkness.

Oscar. He could see an image through the dark void. He could hear Oscar's calming voice. He could feel the echoed warmth of his touch. Even without trying, Oscar was able to save Andrew from his own thoughts. Andrew opened his eyes and looked next to him. There, Oscar laid. His eyes closed, and his hand rested on his stomach. It has been minutes since he asked Andrew his question. But, there was no awkwardness in the silence. Oscar knew Andrew. He's been with him through many panic attacks. He knew Andrew could get lost in his mind. He knew how much Andrew hated his own brain. But Oscar didn't see Andrew as Andrew saw himself. Where Andrew saw himself as an overthinker who hindered his ability to accomplish his goals in life, Oscar saw a man who thought deeply before he acted. A man who was kind-hearted and full love. A man who has amazing potential to accomplish anything.

Andrew reached out to touch Oscar's hand. The electricity of the touch shooting through Andrew's racing mind. He could hear the voice in his head telling him to just say it. "I'll go with." He blurted out. His heart stopped. He saw Oscar open his eyes and smile. And with the smile, Andrew's consciousness was flung out of the void. The bright light of peace and love wrapped him up.

Oscar shot up. "Wait! What did you say." He smiled as he sat on the bed. His voice had a hint of teasing and curiosity. An urge to make sure he actually heard what he thought Andrew said. And a selfish need to hear Andrew say it again.

Andrew giggled and gave Oscar a playfully push on his shoulders. "I'll go home with you." He said, wiping the residual tears from his eyes. Oscar wrapped his arms around Andrew. "I promise we are gonna have fun. And, I'm glad you are not going to be anywhere near your dad." He gave Andrew a delicate kiss on the cheek. "So, how can I help you pack for tonight?"

"Tonight?" Andrew puzzled. "Yeah, I'm leaving back home tonight." Oscar smiled. "But ... I haven't packed anything and changing a plane ticket this late ... it's gonna be a hassle." Oscar shook his head with slight amusement. "Don't worry. Just focus on packing. I'll handle the plane ticket." Oscar's words put out the sparks of worry in Andrew. "I got this." Oscar said as he pulled away and got off the bed. "I got some other stuff of my own to take care of, so I'll be back in a bit." Oscar grabbed his stuff from the nightstand and walked out of the dorm, flashing one last smile at Andrew.

Andrew began to pack. He was able to sit with his decision alone. And, the more he sat with it, the better he felt with his decision. He didn't know a lot about Oscar's family, but he was already imagining all the cheesy romantic stuff he'd do with Oscar. The day dreaming ended when Oscar walked into the room. His face with a big smile as he handed Andrew the plane ticket.

"I told you I'd take care of it. But, to he honest, getting it changed was a hassle. So, I just bought a new ticket." Oscar stretched at being proud of helping his boyfriend out. Andrew looked at the ticket and noticed it was for first class.

"Oscar! What did you do! You didn't need to get me a first-class ticket." Andrew worried. "It's okay! Now you can sit next to me!" Oscar smiled back. "Oscar, that's a lot of money..." Andrew began to say before Oscar cut in. "Trust me ... it's no problem." Oscar began to feel like maybe he did something wrong. Andrew was able to see this, and he sighed away his worry. His worries that Oscar would go to extremes to show his love even if it hurt himself. They were both college students ... he saw how they both struggled financially. But, he pushed those thoughts down. "No, don't feel bad. It's just me stressing out. But I love it! I've never been in first class!"

They spent the rest of their day packing. Then they drove to the airport. They boared the plane. Andrew felt impressed with Oscar. Away from the school environment, there was something regal about him. The way he interacted with the employees. The way he looked right at home in first class. While everything impressed Andrew, Oscar had the I've been here, and I've done that type of attitude. Getting off the plane, Oscar put his arm around Andrew. He gave him a kiss.

"Young Master Amari, welcome home." an older man says as he walked over to Oscar. Oscar smiles and greets the man. "What..." Andrew says, but his too shocked to finish. Oscar just pulls him, "Hurry, let's get out of the cold." He laughs as he leads Andrew to a magnificent black car. The type of car is made to carry someone important. During the car ride, Oscar and the older man would continue to talk. They would catch up, and Andrew would talk when prompted. But, worse were the moments of silence when the conversation would die down. What did he get himself into. Who the fuck was Oscar. They began to leave the city and enter the snow-covered woods. The road twisted and turned. Then Andrew looked in shock, as up ahead thier was a gate gaured by a security outpost and passed that laid a 3 story mansion glowing like a star in the darkness.

#body #swap #transformation #tf #male #male body swap #gay #mischief #stories #story

80 notes · View notes

coffeedepressionsoup · 10 months

Text

Somebody does love | MYG - They Meet

Pairing - Yoongi x F!reader

Summary - "What is grief, if not love persevering?" Two people are in love but that is not enough because sometimes loving requires courage.

This is the one where the two meet for the first time. Part 2 of Somebody Does Love.

Series Masterlist

Genre - fluff, strangers to lovers, eventual smut and angst

Word count - 3k+

Warnings - lil swearing, SMOKING IS INJURIOUS TO HEALTH! nothing else I can think of

Ratings - 13+

A/N - Apologies for the late update. But do let me know in the comments what you think of the chapter and what direction you want to see the narrative flow in. Also, this is not proofed, please excuse typos, tense, and grammar errors. And if you liked it, please please please engage with the post. Comment, like, repost. Your engagement is the sole reason I am pushed to write.

Your flight landed with a two-hour delay at 5 pm at the Incheon airport. After collecting your baggage and going through customs, you shot a text to your friend and waited near one of the cafes inside the airport for the crowd to die down. In about 10 minutes you lugged your bags behind you, pulling your mask further up your nose and pulling the bucket hat to right above your eyes.

It didn’t take long to spot Sammy. Dressed in all black, he had a casual gait that only he could have. It also helped that he carried a little cat poster. You could see his eyes crinkle with a smile as he saw you walking out, which mirrored your own.

“Oh it’s so good to finally have you here!” he said while hugging and slightly managing to lift you off the ground.

“I know. But I am so hungry and nervous and I have such a bad headache,” you mumbled into his jacket shoulder.

“Let’s get you washed, fed and rested. Come on,” he chuckled patted your back and took one of your bags before starting walking towards his car. Ah! His car. A black 2022 Maserati Ghibli Modena. One that he has been yapping about for months on end.

You honestly found it ridiculous. The inordinate amount of money people would pay to procure “luxury” items always confounded you. Sure, wealth commands a certain amount of comfort- Your brain stopped as soon as you sat down on the passenger’s seat of the car. Your ass was far more comfortable than it has ever been on any bed or couch that you have ever owned. Maybe you can allow yourself to see why someone would spend hundreds and thousands of dollars on a car.

Sammy closed the back of the car, with all your bags safely tucked in, and walked over to the driver’s seat. He saw you leaning back onto the seat with your eyes closed. He smirked behind the mask and sat down, swiftly starting the car.

“Still think this was an unnecessary splurge?” his mask had come off and he had that wide eye-crinkling smile.

“Maybe not,” you smiled to yourself. “How far is your place from here?”

“About an hour, with the school and office traffic now, some more.”

“My dead body will enter your residence, Kim Woosung,” you groaned and pulled at the seatbelt in annoyance. Both your mask and hat were now on your lap. Your head felt like the persistent beating of 500 drums all at once.

“Try to take a nap, I will play your sleep playlist,” he suggested.

You could not move another muscle to bother with a response. His reply was like a command. With your eyes shut, you shifted your shoulders to place your neck relatively comfortably. The last thing you remember is the comforting, low hum of white noise filling up the space around you.

_______________________

You walked out of the SNU campus, your colleague and friend Samairah in tow. She is the reason you are in Seoul in the first place. You met at an academic conference in Edinburgh when you were still PhD researchers. Dr Samairah Nazli is now a full-time professor of Gender Studies at the prestigious Seoul National University.

“It is just a contract for the coming academic year, Y/N! Come on! You will also get to spend time with Sammy.” You had scoffed back at your friend over the video call last November when she said her department wanted to invite you as a Visiting Professor for their newly-introduced Feminist Economics course and the existing Gender and Media course that a now-retired professor used to handle.

But a week later when you found yourself in a virtual meeting with the Dean, Department Head and the Vice Chancellor, the opportunity did seem intriguing. They did want to eventually offer you a full-time position. You would be tenured at 32! Also, you can work with Samairah again, after working on your first book together, you knew you would work together again.

And of course, you get to spend time with Sammy. One of your best friends. Kim Woosung of The Rose. But only Sammy to you. Crazy to think that you only met him about three years ago, at Friar Park of all places on the planet, but lord, did you love that dude to bits.

“Wanna grab a drink?” Samairah asks, as you both head towards the subway station.

“No, meeting the broker again.”

“This will be the 8th place she’s showing you?”

You shook your head as you dug in your pockets for the cigarette case. “No. Ninth.”

You lit a cigarette and said, “I really want to finalise a place and settle down before the semester begins.”

“Tough to do all that in what- 12 days now?” she counted the days mentally and grabbed the smoke you held out for her to counter.

“I wish I were a millionaire at times like these,” you took back the smoke and gave it a long drag as you stopped at the crossing. Samairah would go straight from here to catch her train and you will take a left and meet Hwang Seul-gi. Your realtor. Broker. Currently, the most important person in your life.

You could have opted to stay at the Siheung-Si staff residence for part-time and visiting faculties, but that would mean you would spend half the day in transit. And you hated transit. Motion made you sick. So yes, car trips with you are absolute joyrides for your friends.

You also wanted time to work on the manuscript of the next book you are planning. And you want enough time to sleep. God, you wish to have a carefree night of sleep soon. Not that Sammy’s guest room is bad, it is comfortable, and luxurious even when you consider the free cuddles from Woolfie, but it still is not a place of your own.

Although Sammy argued the opposite back when you told him about your year-long relocation to Seoul. He wanted you to live as roommates. Even offered you to pay for house-sitting in mirth, for all the times he would be away on tour.

Again, you loved the guy. But his social butterfly stages of self are something you could take in small doses. You knew what his schedule was like, how many people dropped by for work at his home studio, and even just because to share drinks. But a whole year of it would drive you mad. So Sammy finally gave up trying to convince you and connected you to Seul-gi.

The lovely Seul-gi who yet again showed you a wonderful place, reasonably near the campus. But the deposit itself would require you to sell both your kidneys, maybe an eye and even a good chunk of your liver.

It was almost 7:30 by the time you left the apartment complex and headed towards Sammy’s place. You could take a cab, but the crisp late February air made a nice weather for a walk. You were passing through a park, almost deserted at the time, when you heard a noise that alerted you.

It sounded like someone was struggling. Some animal. You could hear low grunts, probably a puppy or a kitten, but you looked around and saw nothing immediately. The noise continued so you stopped and tried to follow the direction of the sound.

You reached a bush at the side of the pathway and were sure that this was the location. But the sun was already down. Dim yellow lights sparsely lit the park pathway, enough for people to look and walk, but not enough to see within the bushes.

By the noise you could now tell that there was also a metal scraping noise, but barely so. You turned on your phone's flashlight but still saw nothing. You looked around but saw no one. Trying your best to not step on any of the plants, you entered the bush and squatted down with the flashlight.

“Hey, are you okay?” a low but heavy voice from above you startled you and the phone almost dropped from your grip as you stood up to see who it was. A man donning all black with a mask, a cap and a hoodie looked right back at you. Only his eyes were visible and the eyes were filled with concern. In the commotion of your entry into the bush and stomping around, ever so mildly within it had now increased the noise.

It sounded like a distressed kitten. You looked back down and could see one of the drainage grills under the dense foliage of the bush. You looked back up at the stranger and said, “I think a kitten has fallen into the drain.”

Before the man could respond, you squatted back down again and saw the drain and beady little eyes inside it clearly this time. You put down your bag beside you on the ground and put all your effort into pulling the iron rungs up. You could feel it move a little, but not enough to dislodge it.

“Hey baby, don’t worry. I will get you out of there,” you cooed through your laboured breath. By now, the stranger had joined you. You both exchanged glances and without saying a word you went in and pulled at the grille together at the same time. It seemed a lot easier with the two of you having pulled at it. With one arm, the stranger shifted the grille aside.

You peered down the drain and extended your arm to grab the kitten. The poor being was scared and cold and probably even more traumatised by all the strange and sudden commotion. You leant down completely, with your stomach on the ground and lowered yourself into the opening up to your shoulders to grab the kitten with both your hands.

The man next to you extended a cautious arm as if to make sure you don’t fall in. Well, the opening was not big enough for you to fall into. But you could get weirdly stuck. But soon he saw your body lifting up and his extended hand hovered over your body, never touching, but ready to help if needed.

You came back up with a feisty calico kitten in your hands who initially made a few tiny scratches on your palm but was now just shivering. The man beside you promptly took off the work jacket he was wearing over his hoodie and handed it towards you. How many layers is he wearing? A small part of your mind wandered, but you quickly grabbed it from him, giving him a thankful smile and wrapped the kitten up in the jacket and held her close to your body, for maximum warmth.

You looked down at the ground near your feet where your bag was and before you could bend over to grab it, the man swooped in and said, “I got this.”

After you stepped out of the bush, you turned to the man again and said, bowing politely, “Thank you for your help.”

“No problem at all. I have two cats of my own, I know the fear of losing them” he said in a calm but understanding tone. You looked at his eyes more closely while he talked, you could have sworn you had met him before, but didn’t know where.

You shook your head and replied, “Oh no, this is not my cat.” And then you explained the noise you followed. The man nodded his head and looked around probably thinking the same thing that you were. “Do you think the mother is around here somewhere?” you asked.

“If she were, she wouldn’t be too far away.”

You looked back down at the kitten, who had stopped shivering now but was still covered in a considerable amount of mud and dirt. You also considered checking if she was chipped and if the person could be notified if she was already a pet. “Do you know of any vet nearby? I am new here, so-”

“Yes, it’s on my way. I will drop you,” he held his arm out to point in the general direction of where you were headed to go back to Sammy’s. You started walking and the man joined you. Out of the park, and having crossed two traffic signals and taken two right turns, you reached the vet’s chamber. It was reasonably empty. You put your name in the register and waited.

The man sat in a chair next to you but one. He looked over to see you making conversation with the kitten. Of course, she won’t be able to say if she lost her mother or forgot her way home. But the sing-song voice you used clearly worked. He could see the large dark beady eyes of the kitten staring back at your face with wonder and trust.

He too looked at your face with wonder and felt a strange sense of trust and comfort. When he saw a person climb inside a bush at a more or less empty park on a random Thursday evening, he half expected it to be a madman. But when he peered in and saw the glow of a flashlight, he grew more curious.

He noticed how a part of your right elbow was scraped slightly, not that you seemed to notice. He also saw the muddy bits on your beige outfit. And then looked again at the kitten wrapped in his jacket, on your lap.

“Y/N,” the receptionist called out. You stood up and turned towards the man and gave him a curt nod. He blinked several times before nodding back at your retreating figure and gulped down a deep breath. Did you catch him staring? Even if you did, you didn’t let it show. Y/N. Y/N. He repeated the name in his head a couple of times.

It was only after the doctor examined the kitten and told you that she has no chips, and is healthy but is slightly malnourished, that you realised you have so far, that is almost in 30 to 40 minutes’ time, not once asked for the man's name - the stranger in black, now at pet clinic reception.

You just followed a stranger through a dimly lit park and ended up where you are now. When put that way, doesn’t sound like the safest thing to do.

The groomers had taken the kitten to another room to clean her up. The vet wrote up some supplements that the kitten could be given and asked you to wait outside. You walked out and saw the man, right where he was, hugging your bag on his lap, scrolling through his phone. Cap, mask and hoodie - still intact. You went up to him and sat in the seat next to him but one.

“Thanks for looking after my bag,” you smiled.

The man looked up at you and held the bag out, you could see the crinkles of his smile near his eyes. “Is she alright?” he asked.

You explained whatever the doctor said.

“Are you going to keep her then?”

Your eyes widened comically and then it dawned on you. You don’t even have a place for yourself. Where the fuck are you gonna keep her? And if the mother was still around, she would likely not be malnourished, so it is not like you can hope to reunite her with her mom.

Sammy would not mind, for now, you knew. But Woolfie? How would he react?

Seeing you stunned, the man chuckled, “You hadn’t really thought so far, had you?”

“Not really. My immediate instinct was to just release the kitten. But she’s so small and frail, I cannot possibly let her be anywhere else. But-”

Before you could say anything else, one of the groomers approached you, with the kitten now in a cosy, little carrier, all clean and dried. And he carried the jacket she was wrapped in, in the other hand.

You thanked him and then turned to the man next to you and looked guiltily down at the jacket on your right hand. “I am sorry about this. I will get it dry-cleaned and return it to you. And also, I am sorry I didn’t catch your name till now. I am Y/N Y/L/N," you draped the jacket over your other forearm and extended your arm for a shake.

“HI Y/N, I am Min Yo-,” he choked on his words before he cleared his throat and said taking your hand and giving it a firm shake, “I am Min Yong-Ho.”

You smiled back and walked out of the vet clinic. “I go this way now,” you pointed towards the left.

“Oh I go the opposite way,” you could see the hint of a smile but also maybe apprehension.

You had bought cat food worth a week, food bowls, a litter box, litter pellets and a small cat bed. You requested the store to deliver the items to Sammy’s address. In the meantime, you had texted the bare bones of your encounter to him. So he was ready to greet a kitten into his home by the time you went back and for the time being had locked his bedroom door, where Woolfie was fast asleep.

You nodded and asked the man, “So, Yong-ho, how do I return your jacket?”

The man looked around, eyes seeming frantic, almost like a deer caught in headlights. Until finally he pointed at a cafe on the opposite side of the road. “How about we meet at that cafe on Sunday evening?”

“Sure, I will bring back a spick and span jacket, I promise,” you said and asked, “6 PM sounds good?”

“6 PM sounds perfect,” the man nodded and waved back at you as you went your way - the kitten in the carrier in one hand, his jacket in the other and your bag, now draped as a sling across your body. He doesn’t know how long he stood there. But he kept staring your way for five seconds longer after your silhouette disappeared over the horizon.

Taglist: @majiiisstuff, @starlighttaek8, @yoongrace

#min yoongi #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts imagines #bts suga #min yoongi x reader #suga #yoongi fic #yoongi #agust d #kim woosung #suga x reader #suga fanfic #bts #bangtan #suga bangtan

96 notes · View notes

chrisevansonly · 10 months

Text

Just To See You Smile (harry’s angel au)

pairing: harry styles x female reader (angel)

summary: harry’s only been gone a few hours and it’s proving to take a bigger toll on you than you thought

warnings: slight angst, some tears, harry being the fluffiest and sweetest<3

a/n: my life is literally so frustrating right now; i feel lost, alone and lately trying to throw myself into writing because it feels like the only thing i’m good at: even tho most of the time i h8 my writing lol this was written in my phone and not edited yet<3

The soft fabric of the cashmere duvet was your biggest comfort as you lay in bed, unmoving from the spot you usually shared with Harry. He’d left a few hours ago to continue his tour in Belgium and yes I suppose you could call yourself dramatic, but being as pregnant as you were, the sudden disruption to your routine was throwing you off kilter more than it usually would. Despite your pleas and begging, your doctor and midwives told you travelling for the next week and a bit was not recommended, they’d noticed some concerns at your last scan which had instilled panic between both you and Harry at the time.

It hadn’t been an easy pregnancy once you’d hit 5 months along, and now you were even more on edge and anxious, your brain spinning through every possibility and every scenario that could happen to you or your daughter. In a way having Harry with you and touring with him had grounded you and allowed you time to escape the nagging your brain had been doing to you. Of course Gemma and Anne were set to arrive in a few hours to spend the next week and a bit with you, that would help, but nothing could fill that spot Harry did when he was gone.

Your eyes were tired and bloodshot, nose stuffed from the tears you’d been shedding on and off all morning, baby bee not making life any easier with her sharp kicks and rolling around she was doing. It wasn’t until your phone went off that your eyes moved from the laundry basket in the corner of the room to the screen that lit up; a photo of you and Harry at your still secret maternity shoot your newest background. Swiping to answer the facetime call, your heart clenched seeing Harry’s face, a sad smile on his face when he saw you

“My angel…”

“H-Hi”

He frowned, tears slowly lining your eyes yet again, almost in an annoying way at this point

“I’m sorry this is so hard on you baby, breaks my heart to see you so sad…how are you feeling? She not causing you too much trouble I hope?”

“I just m-miss you…don’t like being a-away from you, even if it’s only b-been a few hours…”

Sniffling you paused to wipe your eyes

“Still not feeling very well, she’s been kicking and moving a lot, i’m too tired to move though…s’like she’s sucking the energy right out of me”

It wasn’t as if you were trying to make Harry feel guilty for needing to work but you knew he’d find out how you were really feeling eventually if you lied to him, so there was no point in beating around the bush

“I wish I could snap m’fingers and make you feel better, I know this is getting harder on you, fucking sucks I can’t still be home with you right now..”

“I know…but you’re working hard and so many people are so excited to see you, guess i’m just used to touring with you that I don’t k-know what to do when I’m not”

He nodded, listening to everything you had to say, little noises of agreements or soft praises escaping every so often, anything to try and see his angel smile, that was the goal of any facetime call the two of you shared

“Mum and Gem are coming over soon right? What are you ladies gonna get up too?”

Shrugging you thought about it

“I think we’re gonna plan the nursery together, look at furniture and paint colours and work on some wedding things which I think will be a good distraction”

“That sounds fun baby, I know whatever you come up with will be amazing, you’ve got a good eye for that stuff”

“Not as good as you”

“I beg to differ”

A small smile pulled at the edge of your lips, Harry’s eyes lighting up at the sight of that

“There’s my favourite smile, love seeing you smile darling, my favourite thing in the world”

“Hard when you’re not here sometimes”

He nodded

“I know but even if i’m a country or a timezone away I’ll always make sure to see that smile, even if I have to dance around ridiculously, making you happen is my goal you know that”

Allowing another smile to appear on your face, this time bigger than the last, was enough to have Harry cheering, loudly at that

“You’re so silly…s’just a smile H”

“Yes, but it’s my favourite smile…besides I was hoping to take you on a tour around Belgium with me…maybe that will keep that pretty smile on that beautiful face of yours”

“It might…”

Harry laughed shaking his head while he brought you with him as he changed, showing you the hotel room and the view from the balcony, your eyes catching the bright colours of the city below him. He kept notice of your mood shifting, your eyes brightening the more he showed you, honestly when Jeff asked why he wanted to wait to rehearse until later, he should have known it would have something to do with you.

“Want to go see the city a bit? I’ll show you some of the cute little tea and coffee shops we spotted earlier?”

“Yes please H…love you so much you know that?”

He nodded, bringing the phone to his lips so he could press a kiss to the camera, albeit very dramatically which earned a laugh from you

“I love you more m’angel, i’d do anything for you, always”

You may not have been able to attend the next few love on tour shows, but that wouldn’t stop Harry from calling tou in every city he visited until you’d be reunited, just so he could show you the sights, the sounds and make you feel like you were with him every step of the way, even if you were stuck in London, counting down the days until you’d be back together. One day at a time, he’d tell you, and you couldn’t wait until that day you were able to rejoin him and experience the world with your own eyes again…

96 notes · View notes

mybadlywrittenstories · 4 months

Text

Two Different Worlds (Jasper Hale Fanfic)

A/N: Hey guys it has been FOREVER since I wrote fanfic and I completely forgot my old Tumblr stories, but I am back at it fellas, please feel free to give any feedback just please be respectful. Also I prefer writing using my OCs instead of using y/n stuff)

Word Count: 2,022

The gentle drumming of raindrops melodically dropping onto the windshield lulled me into a peaceful half-sleep in the back of my father's police cruiser. I was vaguely aware of the light conversation between my father Charlie and my younger sister Bella.

The awkwardness between those two was palpable in the air, for two people who hardly got along they truly were unbelievably alike. I let their uncomfortable discussion pass me by and focused on the other issues that were running rampant around my mind. The first was the fact that I was halfway through my senior year, and now I had to transfer to a new school. Well, I didn't have to per se, but considering I was still freshly 18 and the only job I held back in Arizona was a retail warehouse job that paid 7.15 an hour-- and I still had to buy my own car and pay for my own college-- I wasn't exactly in a situation to move out on my own back in my sunny home of Pheonix Arizona.

Not that I hated Forks, it was definitely a quaint little town that held a certain charm to it. Truthfully, I don't quite understand my mother Renee's and Bella's pure hatred for this place was, but to each, there own I suppose. I was just disappointed to leave Arizona, so close to graduation, my two friends Liv and Abbi, and my now ex-boyfriend Mark, had to stay back in Arizona.

A throb of pain ripped through my chest and tangled itself around my heart when I thought about Mark, more guilt than grief. We had only been dating casually-- more so for the fun of it than due to any real feelings we had shared-- or so I thought. When I had ended things with him a week before my departure, He revealed he harbored much stronger feelings than I knew. Our breakup was still amicable however, in the end, he agreed long distance was not meant for us-- well more so, me.

I had also promised to call him, Liv, and Abbi, as much as possible and Skype at least twice a week. The guilt-ridden thorns pressing into my heart tightened a bit as I remembered his hopeful expression when I left, Liv later informed me that he was harboring hope that he'd be able to convince me to try long distance with him once I was settled in. It wasn't out of the question I supposed, but I never saw our little 4-month fling lasting longer than the end of senior year-- but who knows where life will take me--

"Cali"

I hope I can at least make some new friends here, even if they only last a short time.

"Cali wake up, Sweetie."

Scratch that-- I hope my sister can make some friends. She's always alone. We lived in Arizona for years and she never made any real friends, that's not healthy. I hope--

"Calliope Swan!"

My father urged, shaking my shoulder gently. My eyes snapped open, my body jerking forward as I took in my surroundings. My father had parked his beat-up cruiser in the driveway of my second home. A sense of nostalgia washed over me unexpectedly, I had very few memories of my time living here but some microscopic part of my brain still recognized this home as my childhood home; I did spend the first 2 years of my life calling this two-story rundown house as my home.

"Sorry," I sighed groggily, "I didn't realize I had fallen asleep."

"It's alright." My dad smiled, his endearing awkward smile, "I already brought in your bags, so why don't you go make yourself at home."

"Aye Aye Captian." I joked, mock-saluting him before I climbed out of the back seat, grabbing my over-stuffed backpack and messenger bag. Charlie showed me up to my room-- completely unnecessary considering I've spent two weeks of my summers and all of my spring breaks here for the past 16 years-- and I had spent the first 2 years of my life living here.

My room was just as I had left it last summer, with the same sage-green walls and dark oak floors. My stormy grey curtains were slid open, the sun illuminating the room to the best of its abilities despite the gloomy weather outside. My full-sized mattress draped in a deep blue cover and covered with small stuffed animals I had collected over the years was shoved into the far left corner in front of one of the two windows. At the foot of my bed was my old wooden storage chest, the small metal latch holding down the lid was the only thing holding back the absurd amount of clutter I knew it contained-- all those distant memories.

The rest of my room was pretty simple but cluttered. A bedside table was tucked next to my bed, and a llama-shaped lamp sat on it with photos and books stacked upon it. On the opposing side of the room was my comfortable but old faded emerald green plush chair, and a matching ottoman. My dresser was overflowing with clothing and I cringed at the idea of having to go through all of them to make space for the new clothing I had brought. The mirror attached to the dresser has polaroids of me and all my friends, from both Forks and Arizona. Directly next to the door was my hooded desk, again more random items, and my ancient computer decorated it. In the final corner was my sauder wooden shelves, stocked full of all my worn-out second-hand books.

I breathed in the sweet-- slightly dewy scent of my room and let out a relaxed sigh. This won't be so bad, this is just as much of my home as Arizona was.

Taking note of my plethora of bags stacked in the corner next to the bookshelves I decided I should probably thank Dad for taking them upstairs for me, There really was a lot of them. However, when I turned around I saw my dad's back as he made his way down the hallways toward Bella's room

Oh well, I'll tell him later.

The rest of the day passed by swiftly and without much incident, other than a very swift visit from the Black family where Charlie had very graciously bought my younger sister her first car. Then, very sheepishly informed me that he'd go 50-50 with me on a used car-- that definitely stung a bit but I could understand. Bella was not the fondest of our dad and it was an obvious way of trying to get her to warm up to living in Forks, and to his credit, it did work. She was practically bouncing with excitement when she explored her new car, little Jacob Black following her around like a puppy while she did.

Jacob Black was adorable and sweet, he'd make a good friend for Bella. She would just have to open up to him, he's a few years younger so she used to gravitate toward his older sisters Rachel and Rebecca although they've both moved away from Washington. Last I heard Rachel was away at college and Rebecca was married to a Samoan Surfer. So Bella would have to make new friends, and the twin's nerdy little brother looked like he would do; he certainly seemed eager enough to befriend her.

Other than that though, the day was mainly uneventful. Charlie ordered some celebratory pizza and wings from a local joint, I made some idle chit-chat with Charlie as we ate, but Bella mainly stayed quiet; Stewing in her self-pity a little more than I would've liked.

I helped Charlie pack up the leftovers for his lunch at work tomorrow, making a suggestive comment that perhaps he should consider eating a more healthy lunch, which was quickly shot down by him.

"I'm as healthy as a horse, Cali. I wouldn't be sheriff if I weren't."

"Okay, Okay, Whatever you say Pops. Just don't want to have to rush you to the ER one day due to a heart attack. I get enough ER time because of Bella."

This elicited a small chuckle from him, "That girl sure is a magnet for trouble isn't she?"

"I don't know where she got the clutz gene from, but I think we single-handedly kept the Pheonix ER in business. It was just a month ago we had to take her in 'cause she burned the crap out of her arm on a tea kettle." I laughed, remembering the look of horror in her eyes when the doctor had to inform her that she needed to keep her arm bandaged up for the next week-- and in that AZ heat that would get rather sweaty and uncomfortable quick.

When I noticed Charlie had gone silent while washing up a few dishes, I looked over at him. His face was pinched up in deep thought and from what I could tell concern. "Hey, you good dad?"

"Huh?" He looked over to me and met my gaze, looking a tad embarrassed he had been caught zoning out, he dried off the last dish in his hand and looked over to me seriously, "Can I ask you a serious question, Cali?" He asked, taking on the voice of a worried father.

"Ya, go ahead."

"Do you think..." He paused and thought for a moment, sorting out whatever thoughts were running around his mind. "I know, me and you are very different people. Everyone always says me and Bella are a lot alike but... I know you. I know you're gonna be okay here even if it wasn't necessarily what you wanted."

I opened my mouth to object, I didn't not want to move to Forks. I just was hesitant due to almost being ready to go off to college. He continued on before I had the chance to interrupt though.

"But Bella, she's so quiet, and I can tell she doesn't want to be here. I hate seeing her so upset... I know I'm not the most fun person to be around and I'm going to try and change that but do you think you could look after her? Let me know how I'm doing... If she is happy? Make sure she's doing okay at school and stuff."

"Of course, Dad. I'll keep an eye out for her." I smiled cautiously. This was the first time in a long time I had seen him this worried; the last time was when I came out to visit one year, and it was the first year Bella had decided not to come to Forks to see him. He talked to me back then, asking if Bella was okay and if he had done something wrong. My heart throbbed when I imagined what it must be like for him, loving a daughter so much and feeling so hopeless; as if nothing he would ever do would be the right thing to do.

"Thank you." He said with a timid smile, we both continued to clean up the kitchen in relative silence. I suspected he was doing a bit more cleaning than he would typically do on account of me and Bella being here-- although Bella had already excused herself up to her room.

Once the Kitchen was practically spotless, I took it as my turn to excuse myself into my bedroom. I finished what I could by unpacking my room, opting to leave all my bathroom supplies in a small basket on my dresser, instead of taking up the limited bathroom space. My new books were put away on my shelf, my make-up on the desk next to my small popup mirror. My shoes were lined up on the wall beside my door. The only thing left to do was go through my clothes and that was a challenge to tackle another day.

As I lay in my bed, listening to the gentle sounds of rain hitting the rooftop, I tried to envision what this new chapter in my life would hold for me; however brief it may be.

#jasper hale #jasper whitlock #jasper cullen #twilight #twilight fanfic #twilight fanfiction #twilight saga #oc #original character #jasper hale x reader #jasper hale x oc

22 notes · View notes

xxshewritesinblacknwhitexx · 1 year

Text

Four Months Part Two

You left your pregnancy test with Syd, now you’re dealing with the aftermath of it all.

Syd (London) x Black!Reader

WARNINGS: mentions of pregnancy, language, mentions of drug use, fist-fighting, small mention of blood, angst

It had been exactly two weeks since you’ve seen, spoken to, or even heard from Syd. Not since that day found him in bed with his girlfriend, ex-girlfriend— whoever the fuck she was. And not since you left that pretty huge bombshell on him.

You were pregnant.

And you had no idea what the hell you were going to do about it.

A woman’s pregnancy should have been the most joyous news of her life, but it wasn’t exactly yours. You were pregnant by your now ex-boyfriend, who was a drug addict, alcoholic, and a fucking cheater.

You released a deep, heavy sigh, lying back against the examination table with your feet propped awkwardly in the metal stirrups. You were currently at the free clinic just a few blocks from your studio apartment. Nerves bubbled in your gut, as you watched with bated breath, the oncall OB leisurely move the ultrasound wand against your bare lower abdomen.

The room was quiet for a moment before the loud, thumping sound of your baby’s racing heartbeat filled the room.

“Okay, so this is your baby,” the older OB spoke kindly, pointing to a black and white swirly image, that you barely could make out what you were seeing, on the screen before you. “And just telling by the size of the fetus, correlating with your last menstrual cycle, you’re looking to be about nearly 16 weeks along.”

Excuse me? Did she say what you think you just heard?

“16 weeks?” You exclaimed, sitting up abruptly. The sound of the disposable paper on the hospital bed you laid on crinkled loudly. You knew that you were definitely more than a month along, but 16? “You’re saying I’m 4 months pregnant?”

The Doctor nodded, grabbing a paper towel to help you wipe the excess jelly from your stomach. “I am most positively certain.” She gave you a warm smile.

“But how is this possible?” You muttered to yourself, before looking back at the doctor in confusion. “I mean, I had no symptoms up until a few weeks ago.”

“Well,” your doctor took a breath, “that is the case for some women. I mean, you could have no symptoms until the second trimester, like in your case. You could have symptoms throughout the entire pregnancy or none at all.” She quickly explained, while you tried to rack your brain on if you and Syd even used protection that first night. “So, I’m going to print you out a few copies of the scan and set you up for your prenatal care, okay?”

You nodded in desolation, laying heavily back against the bed in defeat, cursing yourself for being so carelessly stupid. “Yeah, okay.”

“So, you’re not going to tell me about what happened? Even though I drove you a long ass way.” Your best guy friend, Dylan, questioned as the two of you drove down the road in his beat up 1986 Pontiac Firebird —his most prized possession.

You giggled softly, the first smile you’ve had in awhile. “Stop being dramatic, it wasn’t that long. The clinic is only 6 blocks from my place. I could have easily walked, but you insisted.”

“Well,” he let out a deep sigh, “I just hadn’t seen you in so long that I jumped at the chance of spending any time with you.”

You gave him a warm smile and swallowed thickly. You then glanced down at the several sonograms still stuck in your hand. “I’m just, you know, still processing all of this.” You turned to face Dylan full on. “I’m four months pregnant, Dyl. That first night with Syd sealed the deal with my fate. I’m so fucked.”

“Now who’s being dramatic?” Dylan teased, but you couldn’t find a reason to smile anymore. “You’re not fucked, okay? Shit happens. Just think of this as a blessing in disguise.”

“A blessing in disguise?” You scoffed, pushing some hair out of your face. “I make less than minimum wage, trying to live off shitty tips, while living in an even more shitty ass studio, that I can’t even afford in the first place. And not to mention, my child’s father, who hasn’t contacted me since I told him I was pregnant, is a depressed junkie, who’s still in love with his ex. You really want to sit there and tell me that’s a blessing?”

“Well, when you put it that way.” Again, Dylan teased, bumping his shoulder with yours. “Look, don’t worry about your living situation. Your lease is almost up, and I have an extra room where you and the baby can stay as long as you’d like. Rent free of course. We will work on the job thing, and the baby daddy situation is up to you. If you feel like this Syd guy is not gonna step up to the plate then you got me.”

“What?” You turned to look at Dylan in surprised confusion.

“I mean, you and I don’t have to be anything else, if you don’t want to.” He stuttered, trying to explain himself. “But I’m willing to be a father figure for the kid if it’s what you need. Doctors appointments, birthing coaches, birthdays, soccer games, recitals —whatever, you name it. I will be there.”

That caused your heart to warm. You kind of knew that Dylan might have harbored some kind of deeper than friendship feelings for you, but you really only saw him as a friend. And that was because you were too blinded by Syd to see anything else.

“You’re amazing, you know.” You gave him another warm smile, reaching over to gently pat his hand on the steering wheel.

Dylan shrugged, and you watched his cheeks turn a slight shade of pink. “Well, I try.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at him. “Typical, Dylan. But thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Dylan immediately pulled up to the curb right in front of your residence. He gave you another moment of reassurance, before the two of you made plans to have lunch tomorrow. After a few more moments, you finally stepped out of Dylan’s car, telling him your goodbyes and made your way up to your apartment building. Your eyes were cast toward the ground, you hadn’t realized that someone had been waiting for you. When you looked up, there was Syd, sitting on your stoop, anxiously smoking a cigarette.

Your heart almost stopped at the sight of him. He was dressed in a pair of jeans, his stupid leather jacket, and a baseball cap covered those shaggy auburn locks that desperately needed to be cut. His face looked pale and gaunt while heavy bags and dark circles lay underneath his eyes.

Everything in you wanted nothing, but to turn the opposite way, in hopes that he wouldn’t see you, but you were too late.

His steely blue gaze looked directly at you, as he immediately stubbed out his cigarette on the bottom of his shoe and then flicked it into the street. He gave you a small smile, rubbing his hands up and down against his jeans nervously, before shoving them into his pockets and approached you with caution.

“Syd,” you swallowed thickly. You could already feel yourself crumbling at his mere presence. “What…what are you doing here?”

He bit his lip and took a dramatic sniff through his nostrils. “We need to talk.” He told you, after a few moments of deafening silence.

Your resolve quickly snapped you back into reality. You then shook your head and tried to push your way past him. “There’s nothing to talk about, Syd.”

Syd was quick on his reflexes, as he reached out to grab your elbow, catching you before you got away. “Of course, there is.”

You yanked yourself from his grasp and looked down at your shuffling feet, not wanting to make direct eye contact with him. “It’s been two weeks, Syd. You’ve had plenty of time to come and talk to me. But now that window is closed. I have nothing else that I want to say to you.”

Syd released a heavy sigh, reaching to give his nose a harsh rub, before speaking your name softly, “I’m sorry, okay. I shouldn’t have left things the way I did. It’s just that I’ve been trying to get my head straight and trying to wrap my head around this.”

After a few silent moments, you finally looked up into his eyes for the first time. “Well,” you paused for a second, “there’s no need for you to wrap your head around anything anymore. Okay, Syd? You’re off the hook.” You told him, this time making your way up the stairs to the front door to your apartment building.

“What the hell does that mean?” Syd called out to you after another few seconds of silence.

You stopped putting the key into the door, turning back to face him, and shrugging in a nonchalant manner. “It’s whatever you want it to mean, Syd. Just know that I —we don’t need you. I can do this on my own.”

Again Syd irritably swiped at his nose and turned to quickly spit. You rolled your eyes at that, knowing that he was probably on something. “Then what was the point, huh? You literally slapped me with a pregnancy test and then just walked away. You didn’t even give me time to even say anything. What was I supposed to do with that?”

You scoffed, wrapping your arms around your waist, almost trying to shield yourself from the hurt you were feeling. “I’m sorry, did you want me to wait while you and that whore finished?” You snapped and watched as Syd looked down at his own shuffling feet. You kinda felt bad for the whore comment since you weren’t sure if she even knew you existed, but at that moment you didn’t care. “I mean, does it even matter, Syd? You don’t want this baby, so go back to your girlfriend and leave me the hell alone.” You turned back to the door, this time determined to walk in and get away from him.

“Why do you assume I don’t want this baby?” Syd called out again, and you could almost hear the hurt in his voice. “You won’t even give me a chance to explain.”

You wanted to ignore his question, —ignore his pain, but you couldn’t help yourself. So, you turned to face him again. You watched his movements closely. He was antsy. He sniffled quite often, still wiping at his nose harshly.

“Look at you, Syd.” You pointed out, walking back down the stairs, against your better judgment. “You’re obviously on something right now, and you’re not thinking clearly. Just go back to London, I’m sure that’s where you’d rather be anyway.”

Again Syd sighed, taking a big step toward you. He then hesitantly reached out for you, grabbing your upper arms, and you didn’t fight his touch. That was also against your better judgment. “Look, London and I are not back together. She went to LA. She’s gone. Out of my life for good. It was a stupid mistake, but if you give me another chance, I’ll make it right.”

Your brows furrowed in frustration. “So what, I get to be your consolation prize? Thanks, but no.” You tried to walk away again, but Syd’s hold was too strong for you. “Let go of me, Syd.”

Syd gripped a bit tighter, as he shook his head. “No, not until we work this out,” he hesitated, steely eyes pleading, “please.”

You were just about to tell him to shove it, the two of you were interrupted by the sound of someone else’s voice.

“Hey, is everything okay?”

You looked over Syd’s shoulder and spotted Dylan cautiously approaching the both of you. Great, this was the last thing you wanted.

Syd released his hold on you and quickly turned around, to find that Dylan was now standing in front of him. “Everything’s fine, alright? So, why don’t you climb back into your little bitch car and mind your business, huh?”

“I wasn’t talking to you.” Dylan spat, before looking over at you, his crystal eyes filled with worry, “you okay?”

You didn’t know what to say, but it wasn’t like Syd would let you, since he took a step closer to Dylan. “Again, I said, mind your business.”

Dylan stepped closer to Syd. “Again, I said nobody was talking to you.”

Syd let out a sarcastic chuckle, looking over his shoulder back at you. “Who’s this asshole, seriously?” He didn’t even wait for you to answer as he turned back to Dylan. “Look, bro, I don’t know who you are or what you want, but I was talking to my girlfriend,” he shoved his thumb in your direction. “So, I’m not gonna tell you again to just leave.”

You could see that Dylan was not about to back down, and you didn’t know when would be a good time to finally step in to stop the inevitable.

“She’s not your girlfriend anymore, bro.” Dylan mocked, and you knew by their stances that this wasn’t going to end well. “So, it would be in your best interest to leave.”

Syd looked down at his feet for a half second, before looking back at Dylan with a small smirk on his face. “Why don’t you make me?” He then gave Dylan a rough shove, which caused your friend to stumble back a bit.

You knew it was time now to stop it before it got any worse. “Syd, stop it.” You called out to the father of your unborn child. Yeah, this definitely wasn’t going to end well.

Of course, Syd ignored you and continued to shove Dylan. “C’mon on pretty boy, you want me to leave so bad, then make me leave.”

Before you could stop it from happening, all hell broke loose. Syd kept on provoking Dylan with his shoves until Dylan finally got tired after Syd’s final shove, and he officially threw the first punch toward Syd. Syd, although intoxicated, was able to quickly duck out of the way. He immediately swung back on Dylan, connecting his right fist directly to Dylan’s left eye. Dylan stumbled again, but quickly came back and connected a right hook to Syd’s nose.

After the initial shock wore off, you immediately shoved yourself in between both guys, as Syd was standing to his feet. Bloodied nose, he tried to charge toward Dylan, but you stopped him.

“Syd, stop!” You shoved your ex boyfriend back hard. “Please, just go and leave me alone.” You begged, tears rimming your eyes. “You’ve done enough.”

Syd looked down at you, his eyes bloodshot and blood still pouring from what you thought was now a broken nose. He swallowed thickly, looking over at Dylan and then back at you. His heart fell into the pit of his stomach at the fact that you had given up on him. But he knew he deserved it. He was the one who’d hurt you. So, he decided to do what you wanted, raising his hands in surrender and finally backing off.

“Go.” You told him one more time.

You didn’t even give him a chance to walk away, before you turned and walked back over to Dylan. You immediately noticed his right eye was now swelling and turning a deep shade of purple. You grabbed him by the arm, then the bag you had dropped when the fight first began, and made your way past Syd one last time —not even stopping to acknowledge his presence.

Syd left the two of you alone and just watched as you and Dylan walked into your building together. At the time, you hadn’t realized that Dylan had dropped something during his scuffle with Syd. But Syd did. When you disappeared from his sight, he walked over to the object and picked it up.

He used the back of his hand to wipe at the blood still coming from his nose, before wiping it on and staining the front of his jeans. He looked down at the object in his hands, smiling softly. It was one of the several sonograms you had gotten from today’s OB appointment today. You had accidentally left it in Dylan’s car, and he came back to return it to you.

Now it was in Syd’s possession. He looked at the sonogram and then up to your apartment building, then back at the sonogram, one last time, before shoving it into his back pocket and making his way down the street.

That was the day that Syd made a vow to himself. He vowed that from that day on that he was gonna get himself clean and straight for you and your baby. Because there was no way, he was going to let a prick asshole, who hit like a little bitch, as Dylan to be father to his kid.

TAGS:

#chris evans fanfiction #syd london #syd x reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x black!reader #Syd x black!reader #chris evans fic #chris evans x poc!reader

176 notes · View notes

madsworld15 · 22 days

Text

I Am Still Here Part 1

This fic is something that I came up with during conversations with @winderlylandchime about AU fic ideas. I am still working on Heal Me, Hold Me, Make Me, Know Me but I needed a break for a tick.

So, instead, I am writing an AU fic where Justin is 21 and Brian is 33, and they meet when their support groups have to combine one night due to a lack of group leaders. Justin has PTSD from a bashing 6 months prior. And Brian's cancer diagnosis isn't so cut and dry, so he is depressed about his odds. Anyway, here is part 1.

Word Count: 3,372

“So, what are you in for?” A bored yet sultry voice whispered from Justin’s left as he sat a bit back from the circle of people.

He turned and almost lost his breath at the sight before him. At 21 Justin had been around the block a time or two when it came to dating men. He’d discovered his sexuality while still in high school and had run the gambit of one-night stands, quick, anonymous fucks, and boyfriends – both casual and serious. But, never before had he seen a man as gorgeous as the one speaking to him now. With a sharp jawline, a lean but still fit body, and bedroom eyes that could make even a monk forget his religious vows of celibacy, this man was the literal definition of sex on a stick.

“I’m sorry?” Justin asked, his brain had short-circuited and thus been unable to process what had been said.

“This,” The man motioned his arm to the room before them. “What brings you here? You don’t look like you have cancer. So it’s either grief or whatever the fuck the other one was they decided to throw into the pot today.”

Justin sucked his lips between his teeth to hide the chuckle that threatened to come out. He could already tell he was going to like this man. He had a laissez-faire attitude that harbored a level of no-bullshit Justin could get behind.

“PTSD.” Justin quirked his eyebrow. “Guess I’m lucky number three. I wondered why I hadn’t seen you here before. Then again, it’s only my second time coming.”

“And already you have decided to stay away from the class.” The man smirked, which somehow made him even hotter.

Justin finally took stock of his well-styled brunette hair. It was styled to look like the man actually didn’t give a shit about it, which left some strands at the front spiked up while the rest lay flat. Judging by his designer, albeit casual, attire, this man never let anyone see him without first spending an hour in the bathroom on his appearance.

Justin shrugged, “I don’t like groups.”

“I tried to say that to Lindsay. I told her, ‘Fuck Groups!’ and she replied with a quip about how she thought I did.” the man slid down in his chair, spreading his legs out in front of him. “Do you think they’ll notice if we just duck out?”

Justin silently wondered who Lindsay was. At first, he thought maybe the man was married to her or something, but then he made a sex joke about groups. Now, Justin was even more confused.

“Jessica is the group leader for my typical support group, and she has eyes like a hawk. If she feels you are itching to leave, she will force you to talk.” Justin whispered out of the side of his mouth, having noticed that Jessica’s eyes were now on him.

“Justin. You didn’t share much with us last week. Why not try again?” Jessica’s voice was that fake sweet that made Justin angry.

“What makes you think adding more people to the mix will make me more willing to share? Yes, more eyes to stare at the poor fag who got his ass beat so bad he’s scared of his own shadow.” Justin hadn’t realized he had clenched his hands into fists or that he was breathing heavily until the brunette man’s hand landed on top of his left fist.

Without a word, the brunette rubbed Justin’s knuckles until he released his grip. Then, shocking those in the group who must typically spend an hour once a week with the brunette, he decided to speak.

“I’m Brian. Today was my third dose of radiation. The doctor told me it wouldn’t be a picnic, but did he really have to act like he enjoyed it? I mean fuck, my balls are on fire, and my stomach makes me vomit almost every thirty minutes. And don’t get me started on how much my body just hurts.”

“Thank you for sharing, Brian.” Jessica’s saccharin voice floated out, causing Justin to look up. “Would anyone like to share words of encouragement with Brian?”

Brian coughed and abruptly stood up, dragging Justin up with him. “Yeah, nope. I’m out. I came, and not in the way I’d prefer. I shared. And now I’m leaving.”

Without another glance toward the rest of the people in attendance, Brian dragged Justin toward the door and out into the cool night air. The minute the doors were closed, Brian dropped Justin’s hand, pulled out a pack of cigarettes, and lit one up. He inhaled and then handed it over to Justin, who shook his head.

“Don’t you have cancer?” Justin looked at the man incredulously.

“Yeah, but it’s in my balls, not my lungs.” Brian took another deep inhale as if to prove a point. Justin shook his head. He could already feel his heart falling for the older man named Brian.

“If you didn’t want support from others, then why do you go to a support group?” Justin stared at the man before him. There was an air of mystery about him. He was definitely older than Justin, but beyond that and his looks, Justin needed more.

“Trust me, it was the tidier of my two options.” Brian licked his lips and offered the cigarette to Justin once more. This time, he took it.

“According to my best friends and Debbie, I could either seek ‘help’ or face their unrelenting wrath.” Brian put quotations around the word help, further convincing Justin that he didn’t believe in therapy.

“If they are anything like my mother, I can completely understand why you’d opt to go somewhere you despise,” Justin commented, handing back the cigarette.

“You want to get out of here?” Brian stubbed out the cigarette and quirked his eyebrow at Justin. “I could use a drink.”

Justin knew he should hesitate; to not allow this perfect stranger to lead him to one of his unsafe spaces, but Brian’s eyes were convincing. So, instead, he motioned as if giving Brian permission to lead the way. As they walked, he pulled out his flip phone and saw a text message from Daphne.

From: Daphne 7:45 pm

Your mom told me about group. I’m proud of you. Come by after, we can drink and talk.

Justin shook his head and rolled his eyes. He would not be going by Daphne’s “after this” because it would be just like going to his goddamn psychiatrist. Daphne was studying psychiatry and felt the need to constantly practice on him. Or at least, she had for the past six months since that night.

Brian must’ve noticed him pull out his phone because he slowed down his pace to get in line with him. Once they were side by side, the older man gently nudged Justin’s shoulder with his own.

“You have somewhere else you need to be?” Brian lifted an eyebrow in question.

Justin shoved his phone back into his pocket. “No. Daphne just wants to psychoanalyze me.”

Brian didn’t reply, but he did fix Justin with a questioning look. Justin went back and forth in his head for a bit before he decided he felt comfortable enough sharing with this man he barely knew.

“My best friend. She’s currently studying to be a psychiatrist. She offered for me to come over for drinks and a chat, but I know it’ll end up sounding more like therapy.” Justin stared at his feet as he scuffed them along the pavement, kicking a pebble of cement that had broken free.

Brian simply nodded and let the matter drop. Justin greatly appreciated that about him. They continued to walk. Justin didn’t realize where they were going until it was almost right upon them. One glance toward the bars of Liberty Avenue and Justin’s breath caught in his lungs. He leaned over, unable to take in anything more than short, shallow breaths. His vision started to swim when a firm hand landed gently on his shoulder.

Through the fog, sounding like he was underwater, a feeling Justin was extremely familiar with at this point, he heard Brian trying to talk to him.

“Justin. Take a deep breath. Can you walk?”

Justin felt his chest tighten even more, and he shook his head. Or at least he thought he did. Based on the panic in Brian’s voice, he must not have moved at all.

“Justin. Please, just breathe. Close your eyes and think of your safe space. Once you are ready, we can leave.”

Justin’s brain felt like it had sand in it, but he could still hear each time Brian started his litany of reassurances over again. They must’ve stood there, with Brian’s hand barely on his shoulder, grounding him, for a good ten minutes before the panic in his chest subsided. Justin’s vision came back, and the first thing he noticed was the surly appearance of Brian had switched into one more vulnerable and freaked out.

“I’m sorry.” Justin stood up completely and shook out his limbs. After a panic attack, they always felt like lead for a few minutes after.

“Apologies are bullshit.” Brian shrugged, putting a wall back up. His face was stony once more, which oddly enough soothed Justin further. This man wasn’t about to baby him, and for that, he was grateful.

“I could really use a drink.” Justin released a breathy chuckle as he made eye contact with Brian.

“I know a place that is a little less scary than Liberty Avenue,” Brian suggested.

“Is it public?” Justin’s voice came out small and timid, which he could beat himself for, but with his body still recovering from his panic attack, he didn’t have the strength for it.

“Not exactly.” Brian drew out his words but immediately reassured Justin, “It’s my friend Emmett’s place. He hosts private parties there most nights, but he takes Thursdays off. I can always count on him for alcohol and a judgment-free zone.”

“If he takes Thursdays off, how do you know he will be there?” Justin questioned, still not entirely sure this option sounded any more safe.

Brian pulled out his phone, one of those fancy ones people with money had, and pushed a few buttons.

“Hey, Em. I need a drink. Can I swing by tonight?” Brian spoke into his device.

He must’ve heard what he wanted because a moment later, he pushed a button to end the call and looked at Justin with a smile on his face.

“We’re good. Let’s go.” Brian gently grabbed the lapel of Justin’s jacket and pulled him toward one of the side streets, away from Liberty Avenue.

A few minutes later, they arrived at a brick building. The lights of the first floor were all on and a sign over the door read: Milk and Honey. Justin glanced over at Brian, his eyebrow lifted in question. Brian smirked and shook his head.

“Emmett is one of my closest friends and Pittsburgh’s greatest party planner.” Brian knocked on the door without any further preamble or explanation.

“Bri!” A tall, overly skinny man with auburn hair styled wildly opened the door with a grin that lit up the night street. “I was just about to close up when you called. Inventory day is no joke.”

“Hey, Em. This is Justin. We met at support group and then bailed on support group.” Brian shrugged and wrapped his friend up in a moment of intimacy Justin never would’ve expected based on what he’d learned about this man.

“I promise not to tell the mother hens.” Emmett kissed Brian on the cheek with a wink.

“Hello, I’m Emmett Honeycutt.” the man turned toward Justin and put out his hand.

Justin bit his lip and gave a forced smile but didn’t take Emmett’s hand. He was still shaken from his panic attack, and his brain couldn’t handle even the slightest human touch right now unless it came from Brian, which was something he would need to unpack at a later time.

“Don’t take it personal, Honeycutt.” Brian cut in and wrapped his arm around Emmett’s shoulders. “He has PTSD and doesn’t let hardly anyone touch him.”

Emmett gave Justin a reassuring smile and then wrestled out of Brian’s embrace with a “Don’t call me Honeycutt!” that had no bite behind it.

“I’m sorry.” Justin rubbed his hands together and gave Emmett a deeply apologetic look. “I just haven’t been the same since it happened.”

“Hey, what did I tell you? Apologies are bullshit.” Brian, who had somehow ended up across the room already, pulled out some glasses and held up the half-empty bottle of whiskey. “Who wants a shot?”

Justin didn’t respond just moved closer to the bar setup and put his hand out for a tumbler. Emmett, on the other hand, squealed excitedly and clapped his hands as he bounced over to join the two.

Justin hugged his tumbler tight in the grip of his two hands and remained silent while Emmett and Brian started up a conversation. He sat on a stool and let his eyes observe the two best friends in their natural ease.

“So, support group still not your thing?” Emmett raised an eyebrow at Brian. “I don’t know why you go if you hate it so much.”

“It keeps Lindsay, Michael, and Debbie off my back.” Brian shrugged as he threw back the shot and hissed as it went down.

“You’ve never let them walk all over you before.” Emmett reached out to place his hand on Brian’s, which sat on the counter. Just as the man’s hand made contact though, Brian pulled away as if the touch was fire.

“Yeah, well, I’m not exactly Brian anymore, am I?” Brian licked his lips and closed his eyes, leaning his weight onto his elbows on the counter.

Justin observed as the closed-off, staunch man he’d met at the support group not an hour prior suddenly wrapped in on himself and became a shell of a person. It kind of reminded Justin of what he was like when his depression really took hold.

“You know I don’t judge.” Emmett started to say, walking around the counter to stand directly next to Brian, who glared up at him. “However, I think you’re giving this too much power.”

Emmett didn’t say what this implied, but Justin could easily figure it out. Much like Brian, Emmett seemed to avoid putting the word to what Brian had: cancer. It was as if the two felt without labeling it they could pretend it wasn’t potentially life-threatening. Justin watched as Emmett silently ran his fingers through Brian’s hair, and Brian subtly leaned into the touch. Then, just as quickly, the moment was ruined by Brian cupping his hand in front of his mouth and rushing to the nearby sink.

The sounds of vomiting permeated the room, but Justin ducked his head as if to show Brian he wasn’t paying attention to it. After he was done, the older man didn’t return to the counter right away. Instead, Justin heard a door behind him open and close, leaving him alone with Emmett.

“Sorry about that. The radiation really kicks his butt even if he tries to pretend it doesn’t.” Emmett smiled and shrugged, grabbing the glasses and putting them to the side to be washed later.

“If you knew it was going to make him sick, why’d you let him drink?” Justin was truly curious about this friendship dynamic.

“You just met him so you might not realize, but Brian doesn’t take too kindly to being told he can’t do something.” Emmett raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Besides, sometimes you just need a fucking drink.”

Justin raised his glass in agreement, “Amen.”

A silence fell between them. Justin took another sip of the whiskey and winched at the burn. He didn’t drink much, not because he wasn’t legally able to, but because he wasn’t really keen on the taste. For Justin, drinking had always been a social thing. He worried his bottom lip as his thoughts swam with visions of his attack and the support group and Brian rescuing him. Even six months out, Justin still had nightmares and day scares about the person who attacked him for kissing his boyfriend. The young man was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of Emmett speaking once again.

“You don’t have to tell me, but I’m a curious Kathy so what caused your PTSD?” Emmett’s spark was back and he animatedly leaned forward to cut the distance between him and Justin in half.

Justin bit down hard on the lip he’d been nervously worrying for the past ten minutes. He didn’t know Emmett, but he also didn’t want to seem like a weakling who couldn’t even talk about what had happened to him. He took a deep breath and was about to respond when the door behind him opened once more, and he heard Brian’s footsteps approach.

“I was bashed outside my boyfriend’s concert six months ago. We were kissing, and this guy jumped us. He had a bat.” Justin mumbled, his voice barely audible.

Brian stopped in his tracks, his presence evident despite still being behind Justin.

“Fuck.” Brian breathed out as Emmett’s hand flew to his mouth in shock.

“Just drop it. Okay.” Justin took the last swig of his whiskey and stood up. He needed to leave. This was getting too personal, and he wasn’t comfortable anymore.

“I should go.” He walked past Emmett and Brian, still frozen where they stood, and out the door onto the street.

Twenty minutes later, Justin paid the cab driver and walked up the driveway of his parents' home. They’d been fighting a lot lately, and he hoped tonight wasn’t one of them. It was bad enough that he was 21 and had to move back in with his parents because he couldn’t hack it in the dorms with his PTSD, but to also have to basically hide who he was from his dad was even worse.

Sure, his dad knew, in theory, that he’d been bashed for kissing another man. However, once Justin had been released and realized that even approaching PIFA’s campus gave him extreme anxiety, his father allowed him to move back in. Not another word was spoken about his sexuality, and considering Justin couldn’t stand being around other people right now, it hadn’t been an issue. Justin reached the front door and was about to turn the key when it flung open, and his angry father’s face greeted him.

“Where the fuck have you been? When you moved back in, I told you that you had to be back by 9. It is 9:30.” Criag’s voice was menacing, but Justin didn’t even flinch. He wasn’t afraid of his father, not anymore.

“Relax. I went to support group and then hung out with Brian for a few minutes after. Then I had to wait for a cab.” Justin shrugged and pushed past the elder man.

“Who the fuck is Brian. He’s not a pervert like the boy who caused you to become confused and then be attacked, is he?” Justin looked up at his father, finally seeing the man for who he was.

It hadn’t been that his father didn’t realize he was gay. It was he thought that by letting Justin move back in, he was saving his son from being manipulated and brainwashed. With a deep breath, Justin stood strong and addressed his father.

“I wasn’t confused. That ‘boy,’ as you stated, was my boyfriend. We were in love. I’m gay. Nothing can change that, not you and not some assholes with a bat.” Justin inhaled and then continued, “As for Brian, he’s just someone I connected with at the support group. He has cancer, and we got to talking. That’s it, not that it's any business of yours.”

Craig slapped Justin across the face without hesitation, “I won’t tolerate any smart-mouthing or sexual deviance in my house.”

Justin rubbed his cheek gingerly and then smirked, “Okay. I’ll be gone by tomorrow.”

With that he turned on his heel and walked up the stairs to his bedroom and shut the door.

#queer as folk #brian kinney #justin taylor #fanfiction #brian x justin #alternate universe #current wip #support group au

11 notes · View notes

sadwizardlover · 7 months

Text

The Memories We Share

Summary: Rolan and Tav go watch some fireworks together; a lot of reminiscing occurs Tags: Gnome Tav, (slight) angst, hurt/comfort, fluff Author's note: inspired by a tadpole @rolanpilled stuck in my brain

Link on AO3 (For background context, my Tav is a gnome bard who was adopted and raised by humans)

It had been a ridiculous idea from the beginning, going to see the fireworks at Gray Harbor. Rolan had tried telling Tav–they had their own tower, in the Upper City, with a balcony from which they’d most certainly have a better view of the fireworks than from on the ground. But Tav had insisted–in that irritating, infuriating, but somehow irresistible way of hers–that it wouldn’t be the same. She was a Baldurian through and through, and firmly believed the best (and only) way to experience life in Baldur’s Gate was to spend time where Baldurians actually went. Even if that meant being stuck in a crowd crush by the docks, with the air scented by rotting fish and the unwashed masses.

“And besides,” Tav had said, “my parents used to take me to see the Harbor fireworks all the time when I was small. I want to share that with you, too.”

Well. Who was he to argue with that?

Which was how they found themselves in their current predicament: trapped in the middle of a noisy throng of people near the Water Queen’s House, minutes before the fireworks were due to start, with Tav anxiously rummaging through her comically disorganized pack for a scroll. If Rolan hadn’t been so grumpy about having been induced into going to the Harbor in the first place, he would have smugly said I knew this would happen. Because the one argument he hadn’t made in trying to talk her out of her silly idea–out of sensitivity for her feelings–was that she was a gnome, and was hardly going to be able to see anything surrounded by people double her size.

“I know I have a Scroll of Enlarge in here somewhere,” Tav was saying, as she pulled yet another useless ring out of her pack (why did she have so many things in there to begin with? He’d told her time and time again that she didn’t need to pick up every shiny object that caught her eye like some sort of demented crow…) “I’m sorry Rolan, I should’ve thought about this before…”

“It’s….fine,” he said huffily, avoiding looking at her as she started frantically shaking her bag. “How did you watch the fireworks with your parents?”

“What?”

“I said, how did you watch the fireworks with your parents when you were…little…smaller than you are now?”

“Oh! My mom Hanna would pull me up,” Tav said. “She wanted me to be able to see everything so she’d just sort of lift me up on her shoulders and I’d sit there during the show. It was quite nice…” At this last bit her voice softened. Rolan glanced over and saw she was looking off in the distance, her eyes shining slightly with moisture. Zurgan, had he made her cry? He knew he could be insensitive, but he hadn’t thought he’d said anything particularly—

Oh. Her mother. Rolan recalled Tav telling him about Hanna, one of the two human women who’d raised her, over dinner at the Blushing Mermaid a few months before. “This was Hanna’s favorite tavern too,” she’d said, laughing as they’d watched the barkeep chuck a drunken sailor out onto the porch.

“Before she met my mom Esme, she used to work for the Guild as a–well as a con artist I guess, I can’t really sugar coat what she did–and she’d come here to find marks. The pickings here were almost always good, she used to tell me, and even on days when they weren’t, nothing beat kicking back with a strong pint of ale and someone easy on the eyes for company.” She’d looked up at him with a slight flush in her cheeks and a sparkle in her eyes that made his heart stutter; he’d coughed and tried to change the subject.

“Are your parents still in Baldur’s Gate? They must be worried sick all the time, what with you constantly having to play the hero.” He’d meant it as a joke, a bit of lighthearted banter so she’d stop looking at him so coquettishly with those big bright eyes, but the way her expression changed to one of shock made him instantly wish he could take it back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean–”

“No no, it’s fine! It’s fine.” The brightness in her voice was hollower than her usual upbeat tone, like she was forcing herself to stay cheery. “They’re not around anymore, no. They’ve been gone for, oh, about a decade now? Yeah, I think it’s been a decade…Hanna went…Hanna died…Hanna…” Tav had taken a deep breath and then shot out a rapid spew of words, as if trying to force them out before she burst. “Hanna was killed a few streets over from here, there were some halflings, mom always looked out for little folk like me and they were getting mugged or something like that and mom just couldn’t walk away, not my Hanna, and, well, one of the muggers had a knife and it had been years since mom was with the Guild so she wasn’t as sharp on her feet…and then someone found her in the alley and they tried to get her to a healer but you know, there was only so much time. And then they came to our shop to tell us.”

Rolan had been baffled on how to react to this. That she’d felt compelled to tell him such a painful memory because of something he’d said–that she even had such painful memories, when he’d always just assumed she’d blazed through her entire life with the same relentless cheerfulness with which she’d blazed into his—struck him with such guilt that he wanted to slap himself. He’d known she was adopted; he’d even, for a time, resented her for it: because her parents had chosen to love her despite her not being of their blood or their kind, while his parents, his flesh and blood, had rejected him outright. But she’d said she’d grown up happy. Rolan had thought she’d always been happy.

Gods, what an ass he was, as usual; couldn’t even make a joke properly without hurting someone he cared about, what a complete and total ass–

“Rolan.” Tav’s voice had snapped him out of his self-hating spiral, and he’d looked up to see that she had reached across the table and was gently touching his sleeve. “It’s okay. Really, it’s okay. It does hurt to think about, sometimes, and I haven’t talked about it with anyone in…well, I’ve never really talked about it to begin with. But I wanted to tell you. I chose to tell you, because my parents were important to me, and you’re important to me too, and I want to share those memories with you, even if they hurt.” The way she’d looked at him as she’d said this, with such gentleness and kindness and something else that he didn’t dare name–because he wasn’t sure he deserved that from her–nearly short circuited his brain.

“So! Don’t be too hard on yourself, grumpy goblin,” Tav said, before she’d sat back in her chair and beamed at him with her normal sparkle–but with a hint of tenderness still left in her eyes. They’d continued their dinner as normal after that: talking about what her companions and Cal and Lia had been getting up to recently, arguing over silly things (she’d accidentally flooded the floor in the Tower earlier that week by having Shadowheart cast a rain spell; Tav insisted she’d done it so she wouldn’t drip doppleganger blood all over the carpet, Rolan couldn’t believe she was really that dense and hadn’t she heard of just taking a bath?).

But he couldn’t help but feel like they’d crossed some sort of invisible threshold he’d not been aware of before, and while the thought made him apprehensive, it also made him more than a little pleased–as if he’d passed a test he hadn’t studied for with flying colors.

Now though–with the first of the fireworks lighting the sky overhead and Tav hastily swiping her fingers across her eyes as though that could disguise the fact that she was very definitely starting to cry–Rolan desperately wished he was actually as gifted with words as he pretended to be. There had to be something, anything, he could say to make her feel better; she’d been looking forward to this night for weeks and with one stupidly careless question he’d ruined it for her. But what was he supposed to say? Apologies for bringing up your dead mother (again), I only asked because I wondered how you could possibly see anything here, being so short? Lia would kick him in the shin for even considering it.

Fine, then. If words failed him then action would have to do. Rolan’s mind rapidly shuffled through a small pool of possibilities, ranging from patting her on the head (too patronizing) to grabbing her by the shoulders and kissing her (WHY was he even imagining that). Finally, in what seemed like a fit of divine insight, he seized on the perfect plan of attack.

“Tav,” Rolan said, with more force than he’d intended. “Get behind me.” Tav looked up at him like he’d suddenly grown an extra head.

“Rolan, are you alright?” she asked, with a look of such concern it made him want to scream. “If you want to go home now we can…”

“That’s not what I said,” he snapped.

“Then what–”

“Oh for the love of all the gods–come here.” Rolan moved closer to Tav and then bent down in front of her, hoping she’d take the hint. Unfortunately she seemed to be particularly insistent on being obtuse tonight. “Get on my back, you idiot, I look ridiculous squatting like this.”

“Oh! Oh. Are you sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be sure? I’m crouching in front of you, surrounded by all these people who will probably be gossiping for days about how they saw the Archmage of Ramazith’s Tower bending down in front of a gnome, because I want you to be able to see the fireworks at the fireworks show that you insisted we go to even though I have a perfectly good tower that we–ow!!” He grimaced as Tav wrapped her arms around his neck and then playfully choked him. “What was that for?!”

“You talk too much sometimes,” she said with a laugh. “You can lift me up now.”

“Do you think I’m your mule or something and you can just boss me around? You’re worse than Cal and Lia,” Rolan grumbled, but he did what she’d told him to anyway, making sure to support her so she didn’t lose her balance. Funny–until just that moment, he’d forgotten that the last time he’d carried someone like this had been when his siblings were younger, demanding all of his attention and endless piggyback rides. Lia would pretend that she was a Hellrider, charging into battle to defend Elturel on a mighty warhorse; Cal would ask Rolan to act like a bear (complete with bear noises) and dance around with him on his back. It had been such a small and easy thing for him to do, but the way they’d laughed and screeched and tugged at his sleeves to beg for just one more ride, pretty please, had made Rolan feel like the most important person in the universe. After years of fending for himself and having life spit in his face, he’d coveted and craved that feeling more than anything.

A series of multicolored fireworks like enormous flowers burst into the air above them and Tav gasped in delight. She was so easily delighted–he was fairly sure he could replicate the same sort of pyrotechnics from the Tower, only his fireworks would be three times as large and have even more colors–but even so, hearing how happy she sounded made Rolan’s earlier surliness vanish. He wondered if this was how she’d been when her parents had taken her to see the fireworks: oohing and aahing at every little explosion, legs swinging back and forth, her face resting against her mother’s head. He smiled imagining it, and also at the thought that in this moment, he was partially the cause of her happiness.

“Oooh Rolan, Rolan look!” Tav was tapping on his horn to get his attention. He glanced over at where she was pointing. A bit further down from them, a group of kids was casting prestidigitation spells into the air, little bursts of color and light lingering for only a moment before flickering away. They weren’t very good at it; had Rolan been their tutor, he would’ve pointed out at least three critical flaws in their execution and taken marks off for sloppy spellwork. But Tav clapped loudly and shouted “bravo!” when they were finished, causing the amateur casters to giggle bashfully and take a bow.

“You really are far too easy to please,” Rolan said with a smirk. “If I cast Colour Spray you’d be so overwhelmed with awe you’d probably faint.”

“Don’t be jealous, Rolan. I clapped for you too, remember?" Tav said this not in her usual cheery tone but softer, lower, and right next to his ear. Was she flirting with him? He couldn't be sure, but his tail twitched with pleasure anyway.

And he did remember, actually, even though it felt like years has passed since then. Back at her camp outside the druid’s grove, when they’d all been celebrating the goblin’s defeat, when they’d all been buoyed by the expectation that in a few days they’d be safe in Baldur’s Gate. Before the Shadow-Cursed Lands had cut off that hope for so many of them. Before Cal and Lia…no, he wouldn’t think of that. Right now they were safe and happy and living a life the three of them could never have imagined; that was all that mattered.

They owed that life to Tav. When she’d clapped for his silly little show at her camp, he’d hardly known or cared to know her; she was just a gnome who (in his view) had killed the goblin leaders through sheer dumb luck. He did appreciate that she’d given his siblings something to feel good about, because by the gods they needed it, but his main focus was on getting to his apprenticeship with Lorroakan. His whole future hinged on that one opportunity, leaving him no time or consideration for anything else, and even though Rolan had told her party he hoped to meet them again in Baldur’s Gate he hadn’t seriously meant it. He was certain they’d never see each other again.

And yet. Time and time again, Tav had come barging into his life–always when he was at his lowest, when he felt like the gods had singled him out for a lifetime of nothing but heartbreak and abuse–like a one-gnome force of nature dead set on making him see value in himself and taking down anyone who stood in his way. Even though she had so many other things to worry about and the fate of a city and the entire Sword Coast was in her hands, Tav always put him first in everything. Rolan was unused to being put first in anyone’s thoughts; hells, he wasn’t used to being thought of at all by anyone apart from his family. He’d never understand why she cared so much about him, but Zurgan he was so grateful she did that the force of his gratitude could’ve torn him apart.

Of course Rolan couldn’t tell her any of this. He’d never find the right words, and even if he did, the bit of stubborn pride he still possessed would never let him. So instead he fell back on his old strategy for dealing with the feelings he couldn’t express or didn’t want to dwell on, and deflected grumpily.

“Jealous? Of children? I would’ve thought you knew me better by now but it seems I was sorely mistaken, if you think that your clapping for children who can barely cast and are even shorter than you is enough to make me jealmmMPH–!"

His grumbling was cut off abruptly by Tav tilting his face up and tenderly pressing her lips against his own. Rolan immediately forgot what he’d been complaining about just a second before; every thought flew straight out of his head, except for the one that was screaming at him to kiss her back before she realized she’d made a terrible mistake and ran horrified out of his life forever. And so he did, trying his best to put all his feelings for her that he couldn’t put into words–his awe, his gratitude, his love–into this one kiss. The awkward angle made his neck ache and he just knew someone in the crowd around them was going to leak to the Gazette about how Archmage Rolan went around kissing gnomes in public, but none of that mattered right now. The only thing that mattered was Tav.

When she finally pulled her mouth away from his, Rolan didn't want to open his eyes, terrified that she'd be looking at him with disgust or hatred. Instead his eyes fluttered open and Tav was….smirking at him?

"That was nice, huh?" she said, in a tone that both made him want to kiss her again and made him want to drop her on her head. "Aren't you glad you agreed to come here with me?"

"You—you are—you're–" Words were failing him completely. "Ugh, you're an idiot!"

Tav laughed. "I am, but I'm your idiot. And," She gently cupped his cheek in her hand and planted a soft kiss on his forehead, "this idiot is happy you could share this memory with her. Truly, Rolan. There's nowhere I'd ever rather be than with you."

Her words made him so happy he might actually combust, but not knowing how to reply in a way that wouldn't make him sound like a lovesick schoolboy, he just looked away instead. “Are you actually going to watch the fireworks you made such a fuss over, or should we just go home?” Rolan snapped, hoping she’d pick up on the lightheartedness in his tone. Tav chuckled softly in response and lay her head back against his. As the last of the fireworks tumbled across the night sky, he suddenly realized he’d never felt more content than he did just then. After everything they’d been through–both together and apart–the fact that he could simply share an ordinary moment with her like this was the sweetest reward he could ever have hoped for.

Hm, he thought to himself, maybe coming here wasn’t such a ridiculous idea after all.

#bg3 rolan #rolan bg3 #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #rolan x tav #gnome tav #this is three times longer than i planned on it being i'm so sorry #this is also the first thing i've written in ten years

28 notes · View notes