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infamous-if · 1 year

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As won by the poll, the MC x Seven first kiss drabble is first! A few things: 1) this drabble is fucking long sorry and 2) though this is what I imagine their first kiss to be like, I don't want to go as far as saying it's completely canon, mostly because I'm sure it can go many different ways with different types of MC's. And 3rd) I tried really hard to make this fluffy and not so serious and I'm sure you can see the shift where I thought 'oh crap' but...I am not a fluff writer and I will be working on that lmao 4th) as always, I do not edit my drabbles and I really only do one draft of them so excuse the wordy/awkward sentences or typos or any of that sort and finally, sorry about that last line lmfao

“Have any of you seen Seven?”

That’s the question you’ve been asking all night since your band left The Golden Spoon, a bar in the crux of the city. It had one of your best audiences in recent memory; there were no lulls in engagement, no dull moments that made you question yourself. People loved the songs and danced their hearts out, some even asked for pictures once the set was over. Fame, however small, feels pretty fucking good.

That holds the most truth in Seven. After the set was over, they were on a high, laughing and talking to anyone who offered them even a sliver of their time. That’s usually how it goes with a successful set--Seven becomes a magnet for all sorts of attention. Unreachable, untouchable. No wonder you barely had a chance to talk to them after leaving.

It didn’t bother you, considering you were all heading to the bar owner’s apartment for a small after-party. You just assumed you’d talk to Seven there, considering it’s an apartment. Eight-hundred square feet at most. Small enough that you could spot Seven’s familiar red bandana in any crowd.

Or not.

The group you just asked share equally confused looks and answer with varying shrugs.

You huff, pushing through the slightly sparse but growing crowd. You maneuver through the kitchen and ask a haggle of women who claim they didn’t even see Seven arrive. The man standing alone in the hall? Saw Seven once and never again.

You’re growing frustrated.

With every answer, your impatient grows. Where the hell could Seven be? You came with them but were quickly swept away by the hordes of people throwing various questions and praise your way. Seven hasn’t responded to any of your texts either, which sprouts up a small seed of worry in you.

“Hey, MC!”

You look up to see Jazzy beckoning you over to the couch in the living room, where most people have congregated. In the center stands Rowan, gesticulating wildly as he tells a story from high school...one you’re sure you’ve heard many times before.

Jazzy waves you over again and you sigh. Half your mind still on Seven’s whereabouts, you stride through the living room and take a seat in the corner of the couch next to Iris, half your body pressed against the armrest.

“…and that’s when I had to sit down because I kid you not, I was about to fucking eat concrete…”

The group laughs as Rowan weaves a tale of failed skateboarding antics. The names of you and your friends come up a few times, and whenever Seven is mentioned you can’t help but jolt and look around in hopes that they slipped back inside at some point in the story. With every mention, your body deflates further and further.

Until your phone buzzes.

You turn it around, only to catch Seven finally responding to your million texts asking where they are.

Seven: Roof

You quirk a brow at the message—the one word that says so much—and type something quickly in return.

You: Thought you died.

Another buzz.

Seven: Can’t get rid of me that easily.

You snort, though no one else is laughing. You lower your phone a bit to appear engaged but send back a quick text.

You: Aw, really? I was hoping I’d finally be free of you.

Seven: Har-har. Are you coming or not? I’m feeling lonelyyyy

Your heart races and another laugh bubbles out of you when Seven sends a GIF of someone ungracefully falling on the floor. You didn’t realize how much of a relief it is to hear from them until now, seeing Seven’s text on your screen. Is your body that attuned to them? That, whenever they’re gone, you can feel their absence, so palpable it’s as if a part of you is missing? When they’re near, you feel more than complete. Drowning in so much joy that it’s almost overwhelming?

What do you call that?

You shake away the thoughts and send a reply: Coming.

Brushing yourself off when you stand, you catch your friends looking at you. You shoot Rowan a small smile and walk out of the living room, where you quickly hear him go into another story about who-knows-what. At least the party seems interested.

Another buzz.

Seven: Bring some bears please

You: Bears?

Seven: Beers. Whatever.

Shaking your head, you put your phone away and divert your path to the kitchen where you swipe two bottles of beer. You use the end of the counter to pop open the tops before making your way out of the apartment…only to soon realize you don’t actually don’t know where you’re going.

Dangling the beers between two fingers, you take out your phone.

You: Where am I going?

Seven: Are you serious? It’s a roof. Just go up.

Seven: lol

You: I will kill you.

Seven: OMG you really are trying to get rid of me

You: Seven Lawless

Seven: Using my whole name? Just shivered. The roof entrance is down the hall to your left. Ignore the signs telling you…not to go to the roof.

You move to the door and sure enough, there is a large sign warning of any trespassers.

You: You mean the sign saying that ‘violators will be fined and/or arrested?’

Seven: Ignore it. It’s just a very strong suggestion

Seven: (trust me)

Scoffing, you push it open with your shoulder and go up the single flight of stairs to the roof. Stepping outside grants you a cacophony of sounds; car horns, the sound of the wind rushing past your cheeks, music playing from Seven’s phone.

“I’m starting to think you look at the floor plan of every place you enter just to find the roof,” you say by way of greeting as you approach them.

Seven looks behind their shoulder from their spot on the ledge, their previously blank face widening into a sly grin.

Your heart races at the image of Seven smiling at you, though you quickly push it down. You don’t know what’s been happening but lately, everything Seven does pulls a reaction from you. A simple look makes your stomach squeeze. A brush of their hand sends goosebumps up your arms. A smile can throw your whole body out of whack.

“I needed a break,” Seven replies, turning back around to face ahead. As you get closer, you see their legs dangling over the edge. It’s not too far below—the building is four stories—but it’s still enough to give you vertigo when you go to sit next to them. “Someone asked me to sign their divorce papers."

Your lip twitches as you hand them a bottle. “Did you?”

Seven looks over to you, gaze glittering beneath stray strands of dark hair that fall in front of their eyes. “Yes.”

You laugh and Seven swats your following hand away in your attempt to shove them to the side. “Woah, woah!” Their brief panic from the possibility of falling is laced with humor and you let out a small, ‘sorry!’ that Seven waves off.

"Signing divorce papers," you muse. "I wonder what we'll sign when we're global rockstars."

Their humor subsides, and their smile weakens as they toy with their bottle. You wait, silent, as Seven inhales through their nose and says, “Do you ever regret it?” They gesture vaguely around them. “Doing…all of this?”

You face ahead and think about it, stretching your legs out in front of you. “Not really. Do you?”

Seven takes a swig of their drink before setting it down next to them, lifting both shoulders in a quick shrug. “No. This is all I ever wanted to do.”

“Then why don’t you sound so convinced?”

Their eyes cut to yours and they snort a little.

“Hey, you brought it up,” you prod.

They huff through their nose, eyes narrowing in mock annoyance. “Shut up.” Once again, their humor is brief, and you start to think that there must be something within Seven that’s torn, fighting to come out. It wouldn’t surprise you; Seven has always loved too much, hurt too much, felt too much. They call it a Fatal Flaw, how attached they get, but really, you find it endearing. It’s rare to find people like them in this world. You wish they knew that. “Ah, I don’t want to ruin the mood.”

You nudge them. “Say it.”

They begin rocking back and forth in thought, nudging you back every time they move. “Sometimes…when I’m on stage…” They clear their throat. “Sometimes I feel so lonely.”

Oh.

You expected many things, but not that.

Lonely? Seven is lonely? Granted, Seven hasn’t had the greatest home life, but you assumed that they found an abundance of people to surround themselves with. Hell, they looked like they were having the time of their life after the gig!

Seven’s frowning now, their eyes glazing over with an emotion you can’t read. “I see all those faces and I love it. The attention. The way they sing our songs. I feel fucking alive, you know?”

You nod, hanging on to every word. You understand them; the feeling of music and standing on that stage, singing emotions and states of being that can’t be explained in any other way but through song.

“But then I look back and…” They chew on their inner cheek, brows furrowing as they evidently search for the right words. “I wonder if they see me. Like really see me.”

Your lips part. For a moment, you’re speechless. “Sev—“

“And I know it’s unfair to think that,” Seven breaks in quickly. “They’re fans. I shouldn’t put so much responsibility on them, but it just….fuck, I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“No!” you say. Seven jolts and whips their head toward you, giving you a look of alarm. “I get what you’re saying.” You adjust to face them completely. “I feel it too, sometimes. You just want to be seen not as Seven Lawless but…” You clear your throat. “Seven Duckstein. You know?”

Seven holds your gaze. Their eyes sparkle under the fairy lights that are strung around the lattice detailing on the roof. As their eyes dart around your face, searching for something, you wonder if it was wrong to bring up their real name. It’s always been a sore topic for them, amongst other things. You just hope Sev understands what you’re trying to say.

They crack a small smile and nod. “Yeah.”

You let out a small breath of relief, grateful Seven understands what you mean. You gaze around, looking down at the street below. Distantly, you can feel Seven’s eyes still on you. Your skin burns under their stare, but you do your best to keep looking at the tiny people running inside shops, chatting, and slipping into cars. Living entire lives that you will never know the depth of.

You wonder if you have learned the true depth of Seven Duckstein. Even after all these years…they still seem like a mystery to you.

And you sort of hate how exciting that feels. As if uncovering the hidden layers of your best friend is something to look forward to.

“I’m not lonely with you, though.”

Your eyes flicker up to meet theirs. You laugh a little. “How could you be? I’m with you 24/7.”

Seven rolls their eyes and it’s their turn to shove you. “Can you be serious a sec? I’m trying to tell you I appreciate you.” They drag the syllables on the word ‘appreciate,’ trying to emphasize the severity of the moment.

You raise your palms in mock surrender. “Keep going. I’m listening.”

They pause for a beat. “No. I’m nervous.”

“What!”

“Too much attention.”

“You’re a performer?!”

They raise a finger. “That’s different.”

“Oh, please—“

Somehow you and Seven fall in a lighthearted round of bickering, swatting each other’s hands as you playfully fight. That fighting soon turns into tickling, and Seven’s usually even voice turns into high-pitched squeals that you wish you could record to use against them later.

You don’t know how it happened, but somehow Seven ends up on their back, sighing happily at the darkened sky that hovers over you both. You lean on your side, your body pressed against Seven’s, and rest your head on your hand.

“Come onnnn,” you prod, poking their rib. They squirm. “Tell me how much you appreciate me.” Your voice softens as Seven’s humor dies. “Tell me how you really feel.”

You meant for it to come out as a joke, but the delicacy in your voice betrays the true intention that’s hiding deep within you.

Seven’s eyes slowly, hesitantly, glide away from the stars pulsing in the sky to meet your eyes. With their hair framing their face, their small smile, and the glare of the fairy lights dancing on their face, they have never looked so vulnerable.

So…different.

“I don’t think I should.”

That has you stiffening. A flare of panic rises in your stomach. What does Seven mean by that? Part of you knows but…no. You’re being ridiculous.

They turn their head away, rolling their lips. It’s silent for a moment. You convince yourself Seven won’t speak until they say, “I’m afraid. Of you.”

“What?” you blurt, eyes wide. You hardly know how to act right now. This conversation has gone a direction you’re not sure of.

They turn back to face you. “You have too much power over me. It scares me.”

You open your mouth to speak. The only thing that comes out is a pathetic noise from your throat.

Seven snorts at your reaction, frowning at the sky. “You really don’t know the effect you have on others.”

“I doubt I have any impact on others," you mutter, feeling oddly self-conscious.

“Fine then. You don’t know the effect you have on me.” They huff, throwing their bandana aside to run a hand through their hair in frustration. “It’s kind of annoying.”

You sputter out a laugh, reaching out to poke them again. “Are you seriously insulting me—“

Seven grabs your hand mid-way, their skin warm against yours. You look down, staring at the polish on their nails as they curl their hand around your palm. “I’m not trying to insult you.”

“Then what are you trying to do?” you mumble, your eyes still on your joined skin.

“I’m trying to do as you asked.” Seven inhales a shuddering breath. “I’m telling you how I really feel.”

You jerk a nod. “Okay. Sorry.” Your voice is quiet. “Go.”

Silence.

Seven’s lip twitches as they look up at you. “Nervous again. Too much attention.”

“Fuck off,” you throw out, though there’s no strength behind your words.

It’s Seven’s turn to apologize. “Sorry.” They swallow. “I just think I might mess up my words with you looking at me.”

You debate something. Debate the logic behind whatever you’re going to say next. This moment feels too big to make decisions on feelings you don’t know are fleeting or not. This is Seven. Your best friend. Anything you do will permanently change the comfortable camaraderie you two have had since you were kids.

But…you can’t stop from thinking it might be worth it anyway.

“Then don’t use words.”

Seven’s lips part, mostly from surprise. And then you see it; the shift in their expression-- from uncertain to determined. Their eyes darken and slowly, they release their grip on your hand to place it on the back of your neck, pulling you toward them.

Your heart races in your chest. Are you two really doing this? After years of casual closeness; sleepovers, handshakes, private looks across crowded rooms. Has there been an underlying attraction you just never paid attention to? Or maybe you did, and both of you were too afraid to confront it.

Seven is slow at firs, as if they aren't quite sure they should be doing this after all. But when you don’t pull away they grow the confidence to close the remaining inches of space between you.

Kissing Seven isn't like anything you imagined. And you can't lie; you've imagined it plenty of times.

What is happening...?

Lips warm against yours, you clutch the leather of their jacket as they pull you closer. The kiss is a messy and desperate dance of teeth and tongues but you don’t mind. Not when Seven tastes like gum and alcohol and is sending goosebumps down your arms as they absently run circles on the skin of your neck.

Messy seems about right.

Seven smells of lavender and pine and mint and so many other smells you never noticed until now, when you’re so aware of them and their existence that your brain can’t make out any words except Seven Seven Seven.

Seven kisses you like it's their own salvation; as if kissing you now is the only thing anchoring them to this moment. As if pulling away means breaking whatever dream you two have found yourselves in. So they pull you even closer, deepening the kiss and sighing happily into your mouth.

You could kiss Seven Lawless all night. Shit, you could kiss Seven Lawless forever.

They tug on your lower lip with their teeth just lightly before closing their mouth to plant a more chaste kiss before pulling away. You swallow a frustrated groan, stifling the urge to pull them back into another kiss.

Your eyes flutter open at the loss of warmth.

"That...that was a lot better than I thought," they breathe.

"You've thought about it?" you joke, careful not to speak too loudly in fear of ruining the moment.

Their answering nod is jerky. "Yeah. An embarrassing amount of times."

You both laugh. The humor quickly dies. Then...the worst part comes: the silence.

The horrible, awkward silence.

See, no one ever talks about what comes afterward. The reality of realizing what it is you've just done. The panic that follows the post-kiss clarity.

“Uh…”

“Er…”

They slowly drop their hand from your neck.

And then they burst up, making you fall back on your ass.

“You—“ They whirl around. “Did you just kiss me?”

“Me?!” you guffaw, standing on your feet as well. “You mean you kissed me!”

“Me?” They stand there, and then a manic, happy laugh escapes them. You watch as they put their hands on both of their cheeks, blowing out a long breath. “So I did, didn’t I?”

It’s your turn to laugh. You feel drunk. “Yeah. You did.”

“You kissed me back.” Their voice comes out almost accusatory.

“Yeah.” Your brows furrow. “…I did.”

Seven and you stand there. A rush of wind passes. Neither of you speak.

Until both of you do.

“That—“

“We—“

Seven physically clamps their mouth shut with their hand. Your brain is a static fuzz of nothingness.

Songwriters at a loss for words. It’s almost funny.

“Is…” You clear your throat. “Is that how you really feel?”

Seven meets your eyes and then quickly looks away. “Yeah.” A mumble. “For a while now.”

Your eyes widen. “I—“

“Don’t say anything!” Seven raises a hand, stopping you.

You jolt, mostly because Seven just acted like they saw a bug or something. “What!”

“You know in the movies and TV shows where a person confesses to another person and that other person feels obligated to say something back even though they likely didn’t think it through as long as the other person?” Seven says in one breath.

You blink. “I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“—well, I always found that to be pathetic. Almost like a pity response.” They begin nervously smoothing their hands on their pants, exhaling a heavy sigh. “Just don’t…say anything, okay?”

“Seven.”

Seven, still a bit frantic, comes over to you and puts their hands on your shoulders. “Just forget this happened. I’ll get over it. I just…I may have drank a bit and I needed to get it out of my system and I don’t want this to ruin what we have.”

You have whiplash. Maybe it was you who drank too much. You two were just kissing—kissing—and now Seven is telling you to forget it...?

“That kiss was in the heat of the moment and I mean, I did like it but it may be weird and we’ve been best friends for so long that I know you might find it odd. And hey,“--they let out a burst of shaky laughter--"maybe we can write a song out of thi--'

You pull their face forward, stifling the rest of their words in another pathetically desperate kiss that burns you all over.

It takes Seven a few seconds to catch up, but when they do, their hands go from your shoulders to your cheeks, cupping your face.

By the time you pull away, you're both slightly breathless. You say, “Just…shut up.”

Seven simply stares at you, parted lips glistening and eyes peering at you as if you’re a painting in the Louvre. Like you're something worth their awe and wonder.

Maybe it’s now, just like when they were laying down, that Seven is seeing you differently too.

The sound of metal squeaks in the air with the door opening. You and Seven jolt, quickly shuffling away from each other just as Rowan, Iris, Devyn, and Jazzy appear.

“We were looking for you gu—what’s going on?” Jazzy asks, her eyes darting between you two.

“Nothing.” Seven takes a wide step away from you, swiping a hand across their lips. You swear you see the shadow of a smile on their face. “We were just...talking.”

“You were missing the party, Sev Sev.” Jazzy comes over to Seven and throws her arm around their neck in some sort of move that can’t possibly be comfortable. “Where did you go?”

“Sorry, Jazz Jazz,” Seven jokes back, exasperated. They keep one eye on you as Jazzy pulls them away back inside. They steal one glance at you before they disappear down the stairs.

You stand there, ruminating over what just happened. Your lips still sting and the phantom touch of Seven’s mouth still makes the hair on your arms rise.

“You okay?”

Rowan’s voice has you jolting back to the present. “What?”

“You and Seven.” Rowan gestures at you. “Are you guys alright?”

“Huh? Oh. Yeah.” You wave a dismissive hand as you begin walking back inside. “Totally. We’re just peachy. What are we doing?”

“We’re heading home, actually,” Iris says, shooting you a curious look. “Party got boring.”

You snort, and you and your friends walk down the stairs to meet Seven and Jazzy in the hall. Seven looks your way and quickly averts their gaze, grazing the bottom of their teeth along their lip in evident thought.

You know, eventually, you and Seven will have to talk about…whatever that was that just happened. You’re not quite sure yet what it means. Though you do know one thing: tonight has changed something. Suddenly your friendship is something far more than precious: it’s fragile. And you can’t help but wonder what that kiss means for it.

“Should we get something to eat?” Iris asks the group as you saunter out of the building. “I’m hungry.”

“You’re always hungry,” Rowan snorts, weaving Iris’s jab.

“I’m okay with anything you want.” As Seven says this, they look over to you, and you know they’re not just talking about food.

“Yeah,” you decide. “Me too.”

“Burgers it is,” Iris says. Devyn hums in agreement.

Seven smiles at you, and you can feel the shift in them. When they gaze at you, something else lies there. Something else that makes your heart quicken.

Yeah, you may not know what comes next in your friendship, but you do know one thing: you and Seven will never part.

And that thought comforts you.

#drabble #seven lawless #writing #AHHHHH #ripping my hair out #it was fun writing a Not Angry Seven #It was also weird though #writing a seven that's friends with mc #snores

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katanaski · 5 months

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'Smile for me baby' as he hovers above you with a polaroid camera in his hands and his softening cock still inside you.

#SIGHHHHHHH #I'm craving intimacy #i got so many thoughts yet i can't write any #ahhhhh #anathots♡

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transboysokka · 5 months

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I’ve been thinking about this for a couple days and the original ending of the show is great and perfect and it Had to Be That Way with Aang sparing Ozai’s life

But I really want Sokka to kill Ozai

I want him to one day find out exactly how bad he messed Zuko (and Azula) up and I want him not to be able to take it anymore and I want him to just snap and go to Ozai and kill him

And I want Zuko to see it and I want him to see the blood dripping from Sokka’s hands and I want him to smile and feel such intense relief that the man who’s always held so much power over him is finally gone but the I want him to be overwhelmed by a Terrible sense of Guilt that Sokka felt like he had to do that for him

And I want Sokka, King of Repression, to look up over Ozai’s corpse, soaked with the man’s blood, and smile. Because now Zuko is safe. And Sokka will never have a single regret.

#I have a LOT OF FEELINGS ABOUT THIS #don’t tell me Sokka wouldn’t do it bc he’s selfless to a FAULT #that protective instinct he’s know his whole life…#and this would KILL Zuko #AHHHHH I LOVE THIS I MIGHT JUST HAVE TO WRITE IT #atla #text #zukka #greatest hits #100

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darthannie · 8 months

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thursday night out

2.1k / neil lewis x f!reader

Pairing: Neil Lewis x f!reader Summary: Neil can't sleep and neither can you. A late night conversation leads to revelations. Warnings: 18+, minors dni. fluff, no use of y/n, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort if you squint really hard, Neil cries because of course a/n: I'm a lil rusty y'all but I had to take matters into my own hands.

You were absolutely restless in bed. You had come home from the bar your friend Jonathan worked at, Balanza, after needing some liquid comfort and a close friend. He was one of four. Your little group was all you needed, but more recently it was feeling like three. You, Neil, Lucien, and Jonathan were basically inseparable as you all emerged into adulthood together.

Now, you all found a little bit of community at Gumshoe Video, your and Neil’s video store. It wasn’t much but it was what you and Neil cared about the most. It was your baby, so to speak. Yet another thing that kept you and Neil stuck to each other’s sides.

Neil was special. He had gone through it all with you. When you were in high school together you both skipped school dances and watched movies all night long while getting drunk on whatever was close by. You had comforted each other through numerous breakups, spent many long nights taking care of each other when the other was sick, and now ran a video store together. Growing up, your parents would make jokes about how you would end up together. Neil thought that was the funniest thing ever. “What a cliche.”, Neil would say. You would always laugh and agree but deep down, there was a piece of you that resented his indifference. It was only natural that you both felt something for each other, right? Neil was your rock and you were his.

But nevertheless, Neil was seeing someone. At least you thought he was. It wasn’t totally clear what was going on, but you knew when he wasn’t at the video store he was running around with her. That left you, Lucien, and Jonathan to hold down the fort. This always happened when Neil got involved with a girl and it always left you feeling… odd. You never wanted to admit it but you had been in love with him for years. Brushing off that feeling was the only way you could disconnect.

This constant yearning was exhausting but you just wanted to see Neil happy. Only now, you couldn’t tell if he was happy. He had been a bit secretive about the girl he was seeing. If you knew Neil, he was in over his head. Whenever you saw him at the shop he seemed drained and a bit stressed, but he never stayed long. He’d say, “I’m gonna go in about an hour. We’re getting dinner tonight, I think?” I think, was the key phrase. His remarks were rooted in confusion. Maybe his status with this mystery girl wasn’t so solid. You had hoped, for his sake, something good would come out of this. You couldn’t bear to see him hurt again.

After some overthinking, you were finally getting a bit drowsy. Right as you were about to drift off your ringtone shocked you awake. You answered it before you could check the name and heard a familiar voice on the other line. “Hey”, Neil said. “Can I come over? I can’t sleep” The clock on your nightstand read 1:34 AM. “Yeah sure what’s u-“

He hung top on you and within a couple of seconds, there was a knock at the door.

You scurried out of bed and headed towards the door. You weren’t prepared for what met you on the other side of the door. It was Neil, of course, but he looked sad. His eyes were puffy and red. He looked like he had been crying for hours. He looked exhausted. It took you a second before you realized you had been staring. You moved to the side and silently gestured for him to come in.

He went right past you and towards the couch, face-planting into the cushions. He groaned and you stood over him for a moment before squatting down to his level. “Neil?” You heard a sniffle come from him and he turned to face you. Even now, he was just as gorgeous as every other time you saw him. Handsome in a classic sense. You fought every urge not to brush the hair away from his eyes but eventually, you gave in. You reached out and he closed his eyes after feeling your touch. “Neil, what’s going on?”

“Jonathan and I got into a fight. Well, not like a fight fight. We just argued a bit and I got pissed and left.”

You removed your hand from his face. That was the last thing you expected to hear. There was never any conflict in your friend group that went beyond friendly film debates, but you were waiting for the shoe to drop. You had spent your time at Balanza tonight blabbing to Jonathan about how annoying It was that Neil was never around whenever he started seeing someone. He pushed you about it you admitted it was because you had liked him for years. Jonathan laughed “Well no duh! I could smell that shit from a mile away. You guys already treat each other like you’re married.” And he was right. There were things you and Neil did that felt like you were married. Apart from movie nights, you had spent time cooking dinner for each other, taken a couple of trips together, and confided in each other about everything. Your bond was unbreakable.

You were thinking about what to say when Neil interrupted your fractured thought process.

“I was at Balanza tonight, thought I’d go in for a quick drink, you know? And I got to talkin’ with Jonathan and he mentioned how you had been there a bit before me and how I’d just missed you. I thought was weird because you always told me if you were going so we could go together. Plus you’d told me you were going straight home after closing up the store. But anyway, he started joking about you and me. I mean, what the fuck right?”

You briefly paused before responding, “What did he say about us exactly?”

Neil sat up before he began his story, gesturing as he began, “He made a quip asking where my ball and chain was and I said “What ball and chain?” and he said you. It kinda took me aback. And really annoyed me because you would never be a ball and chain, you know. And somehow he started going on about how I should maybe be a better friend.” Your heart sank. He continued, “He said I should be more “mindful” about our relationship and I thought what the fuck, you know. I know he doesn’t really have a way with words but, god, how cryptic. Who says that? Especially about us. We’re close, right? Super close! No one really gets it!” Subconsciously or not he now had your hand in his.

“Our friendship is special you know. It means the world to me and to have that questioned made me a bit upset. Then it really got me thinking. Have I not been paying attention to you lately? Then, I started thinking about all the things I’ve been doing recently. Spending time with you know who, which by the way isn’t happening anymore.”

In all honestly, you didn’t really know who. You’d only seen her a couple of times. You interrupted him, asking what he meant.

“I broke things off with her. She was, frankly, insane, and as fun as it was it was just that. Fun. Unsustainable. Unstable. Plus, I was barely meeting up with the group. Fewer movie nights. Less time at the store. Less time together. And I thought, fuck maybe I have been a shit friend. And now that I don’t have her in my life I feel like I can actually see clearly.”

He finally took a pause and looked you in the eyes. You were stunned. Neil was always a talker but it was rare he got this candid about his relationships. When you were younger, he’d tell you almost everything, but now he rarely ever spoke about his escapades and you were grateful for it. Just when you thought it was over, he continued.

“So, I was so fed up with Jonathan I didn’t even finish my beer. I just left. I got home and tried everything to shake the guilty feeling off of me but nothing worked. I did a- a cold shower and even made some tea. I tried to watch City Lights, but I couldn’t.”

That was your and Neil’s favorite film. You had watched it the first time when you stayed home from junior prom. You both started off by doing voices for the characters and by the end you were both touched by the film. Ever since then, that was the film you both watched when you couldn’t think of anything better for movie night. It became a ritual that wordlessly brought you closer.

“I got really restless and upset. So, I thought I would just call you.” He broke eye contact for a moment, and you could’ve sworn he looked at your lips before making eye contact again.

Your voice was light, “But you got here before you called.”

He shrugged, “I just got in the car and started driving.”

You chuckled at his response. “Well you know you’re always welcome.” He smiled at you before he let it falter. He seemed to hesitate before he continued talking. The shoe was about to drop.

“ I, ah. There was something I left out of the story.”

You swallowed before asking, “What?”

“Jonathan told me about… you and… Probably not everything but he told me.” It dropped.

There was a moment of silence as the tension between the two of you grew. Your world was crashing down. You’d have a word with Jonathan soon, call him a jackass for betraying your trust. You wanted to speak and deny everything, but nothing came out.

He spoke first. “How long?”

Without hesitation, you replied “Years.”

He sat back and ran his fingers through his hair. He muttered what you thought was fuck under his breath, but you preferred not to listen. All you could feel was the pain in your chest as you prepared to have your heart broken. Tears started to fall before you could stop them and a small whimper left you. He wiped your tears away and leaned forward again. You were now sitting on the ground as he sat over you on the couch. Neil felt a couple tears of his own begin to fall. You both sat for a moment. His silence made it hurt even more. You were ready for his rejection to slap you in the face. The sting would last long after, you thought. You heard him speak up softly, “So you… you feel it too?”

You hesitated, “Feel what exactly?”

He laughed at himself and clarified, “You know this, um, tugging feeling in your heart when it feels like it’s trying to tell you something.”

You avoided his gaze, “Yeah.”

You looked down at your hands. Your fingers were now interlaced with his. Space had closed between the two of you and it was getting hard to breathe. Your heart raced and you swore his did too. He brought his free hand to your face, resting it on your cheek. You looked down at it, foreign on your skin. You looked back at him and searched his face for any sign that this was some sick joke. All you found was sincerity. He was willing and ready to risk years of friendship on the off chance that you felt the same as he did. He unraveled his hand from yours and placed it softly on your neck as he pulled you in, careful not to make any sudden movements.

The kiss was soft, at first. As it deepened you placed your hand on his chest, not to push him away, but to feel if his heart was beating as fast as yours. It soon became breathless, both of you refusing to break for air. Your fingers ended up in his hair. You felt his tongue on your bottom lip. He was testing you and you gave in. It was feverish. You both moved in sync until, finally, you both pulled away to get some air. The room was spinning. You were kneeling after he had pulled you up. He pulled you up further and sat you down on the couch. He pulled you close to him and just held you, hoping to feel as close as possible to you. You both felt like you’d just won the lottery. He traced your arm with his fingers. You looked up at him and he was already looking at you. You slowly broke out into a smile and he did too. Soon enough you were both giggling and chuckling. It was pure bliss. He leaned in to give you another kiss. There was no testing the waters this time. He pulled away and looked into your eyes.

“What took us so long?”, he sighed.

You whispered back, ”I don’t know.”

#neil lewis x reader #neil lewis smut #neil lewis fluff #watching the detectives fanfic #neil lewis x you #i proofread this but no one is perfect #first fic in so long ahhhhh #cillian murphy x reader #neil lewis x f!reader #annie writes

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hunniez · 15 days

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✎ fic preview | sandstorm (poly!satosugu/reader. modern!au)

hi baes, it's been a crazy past two months since I moved but I finally have had time to get into it and write! I'm still fleshing this fic out but here's a little peek ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و

“I’m..sorry. It wasn’t supposed to be this way.” Gojo said softly, standing stiffly at the front door of the apartment. He opened his mouth once more but hesitated and instead pressed his lips into a grim line. Bowing his head, he cleared his throat uncomfortably before opening the door and exiting promptly as if he wasn’t affected by what had just transpired. If he wasn’t affected by leaving you like this.

A shaky exhale escapes your lips as you grab at your thighs, nails digging into the skin exposed by your lounge shorts as if to alleviate the agonizing grief, pain, and sorrow that currently tore through your heart and mind. The faucet of the kitchen sink dripped quietly. You grit your teeth as you lean over your lap, burying your face in your shaking hands as the sobs crawl up your throat, constricting your airways and making it hard to breathe. Droplets of condensation steadily trailed along your forgotten glass of iced water. One tear turned into another. And then another. And then another.

Outside it started to pour.

#*gives u a spoonful of angst* SAY AHHHHH #I'm also writing a couple other things as well teehee #lin writes #poly!satosugu #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #poly!satosugu x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #fic preview

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harrytheehottie · 1 year

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THE BRITS A HARRY STYLES ONE SHOT

word count: 1.6k very hot & steamy!

This wasn’t your first award show with Harry. You had just come off Grammy week which was your first ‘outing’ as a couple -- well, a couple to the people around you. You made the joint decision to not walk the carpet for both events. You were one of the last few things that Harry could keep to himself as someone who has had most of his privacy shared with the world, with or without his consent since he was a teenager. He still wanted you there alongside him during the most important moments of his career.

You watched and cheered alongside your group which was made up of Harry’s regular entourage, his sister and a few extra label heads that he invited. You watched as he opened the show, performing As It Was with much more energy than he could have at the Grammys where he was immediately hit with the turntable going the wrong way and detouring his entire performance and night.

You couldn’t wipe the grin off of your face when you quickly rushed backstage during the first commercial break to Harry’s green room - where he was changing into his third outfit of the night. His chocolate brown hair was styled perfectly from his hands constantly running through it. He was buttoning up his silk baby blue shirt when you got his attention through the mirror,

“There she is,” he said in a sing-songy voice, clearly already helping himself to some beverages before you got there.

“You were incredible,” you told him before walking over and leaving a kiss on his lips, your pink gloss rubbing onto his lips.

“Mhmmm, thank you - not just saying that?” His voice was low trying not to let anyone else in the room here. Harry was the hardest person on himself and you knew the mishap from the Grammys was replaying in his mind.

“Never.” You reassured him, leaning up to meet his lips again.

“Ahem” Lambert cleared his throat as he tried to get situated into his suit.

“Sorry! Sorry, I’ll be out of your way!”

You gave Harry one more kiss goodbye before heading back out to your seat.

You decided to sit at the second table where Harry’s collaborators and all the plus ones of his entourage sat. You were in an odd predicament where people knew you were together but they also didn’t - the public was unaware of your relationship with Harry, you’d see speculation on if you were one of the roadies or a new assistant that Jeff hired and you’d see an odd comment here or there asking if you were the girlfriend but nothing that really caught wind. Harry did a great job of protecting you and your locked instagram helped.

You cheered him on from your table as he won award after award after award. He was on fire - downing every shot that came his way, drinking liters of tequila at this point and stumbling through his speech as he took a long pause collecting his thoughts on stage. This was your favorite type of Harry when he lets all his anxieties go and allows himself to enjoy the night ahead.

The fourth and last award for the night - album of the year. You watched with bated breath as the credits rolled through of all the different nominees, Harry turned around to you for a quick moment catching your eyes before blowing a kiss before the fate of the night was announced.

“And the album of the year goes to… Harry Styles.”

You jumped up from your seats in excitement.

One. Two. Three. Four.

Harry swept the Brits.

You were screaming and yelling and hugging everyone next to you and you were so caught up in your own reaction that it took you a second to realize what Harry was doing, maneuvering through the group of people to find you. His arms opened wide inviting you in - suddenly the cameras and the stories and the future headlines didn’t matter. Your boy won and you wanted to join him in all the excitement and exactly how he wanted.

So when he wrapped you in a hug and began whispering in your ear telling you how he can’t wait for later you were a goner. You did something you probably would have never done if the two of you were a little bit sober but you kissed him on the lips quickly, “now stop wasting time and go up there.” He held onto you for a little bit longer before gathering himself and walking up towards the stage with Tom and Tyler.

He was flustered up there, the mix of emotions, tequila and having his favorite person in the world Stanley Tucci present him the award. You watched as he said his thank you’s and gave the mic to Tyler and Kid to say theirs. You were elated for him, buzzing for

You knew your actions would be called into question soon. The headlines that Jeffrey would have to handle. But those were Monday’s problem, right now you were with all your friends celebrating the one man that brought you all together. And when Jeff came over to give you a hug just as Harry began speaking on stage, you knew you had nothing to worry about.

You watched as he clung onto Stanley Tucci through Tom and Tyler’s speeches. He was at the level of drunk where a cup of water or three would do him some good. All three of them fumbled through their speeches before the last performer took the stage. You were overwhelmed with so much emotion and you needed to be as close to him as possible.

Last week, you met him at the after party but this time you decided to wait for him. You found his green room again wanting to give him a quick congratulations before finding the rest of your group and heading over to whatever party he needed to show face for.

“Can I come in?” You knock first thinking his stylist and team would be back there as well not wanting to interrupt anything.

Harry opened the door and you were sure your jaw had unhinged from its place. He was standing there in his tiny briefs, his torso filled with tattoos and semi-erect in between changing into his after party attire. He was the only one in the room

“Told Lambert I got it from here but I think…” Harry paused trying to find his words. He was buzzed and giggling but aware.

“Need a hand?” You finished his thought for him. And just as the words left your mouth you were aware of the innuendos that would follow. Harry closed the door behind you and you watched as he locked it - now the two of you were just alone for the first time all night.

He had a giant grin on his face, you knew he was up to something. You watched as he walked over to the couch and you followed him standing over him as he looked up at you as he whispered slowly, “need you now” moving his hands over his crotch.

He hadn’t even touched you yet and you were already a goner. The biggest night of his career and all he wanted to do was be as close to you as possible as soon as he could - even if it was on a questionable couch in his green room.

Harry reached out and hooked his arm around you and pulled you onto his lap. You thought back to earlier that day when you squeezed in a facetime call to ask what dress you should wear and Harry insisted on you wearing the pink mini. You were centered with him almost embarrassed at the state that he already worked you up in,

“So wet for me,” He whispered.

You leaned forward as you began grinding against him, your mouth at his ears as you whispered back, “I’ve got a thing for winners.”

Harry’s hands found the zipper on the side of your dress and began haphazardly pulling it down, your decision to not wear a bra was certainly working in your favor as he moved his mouth over your nipple using his fingers to play with the other. You shuttered against him as he began to suck, grinding against him as your collective moans filled the room around you.

“Want to feel you inside me,” you said as you got up for a second to take everything off. Harry watched as he too got himself out of his briefs and you were back on him. Your hands stroked him once, twice watching as he threw his hand back highlighting the veins on his neck. You lined your center with his and slowly inching down with that familiar stretch.

“Fuck,” you whimpered.

You loved being this close with him, the vulnerability and excitement in being the person he wants to be with in moments like this. It was more than just sex.

You began grinding slowly against his length, Harry whispering encouraging ‘s’good for me’s through his teeth. You moved your hands into his hair -- pulling and grabbing as you worked yourself to finish and when Harry’s hands moved from your breasts and began working your clit, you were done for - moans and groans filling the room with Harry reaching completion soon after.

You sat in silence just taking each other and the moment in.

“You kissed me on camera,” Harry teased as you got up from his lap and sat next to him on the couch. He had his face turned toward you.

“I did” you giggled moving forward and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“S’ike I’ve won five times tonight - four brits and” Harry found your eyes before continuing, “now, everyone knows you're my girl.”

#harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #the brits #ahhhhh !#let me know your thoughts pls <3 <3

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