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anya-anya002 · 6 months

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𝔓𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔠𝔲𝔪 (i) *full*

ꜰᴜɴᴇʀᴀʟ ᴅɪʀᴇᴄᴛᴏʀ! ᴀʟᴇx ᴛᴜʀɴᴇʀ x ꜰᴇᴍ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇɴᴛɪᴄᴇ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: you have a biology exam and you ask your friend’s father to help you study-

𝑰𝒏𝒄𝒍𝒖𝒅𝒆𝒔: age gap (21 f, 37 m), cheating, corruption kink (u gotta squint-), established relationship, mentor x apprentice relationship, medical kink/anatomical words….

(Guys…..I haven’t been to a med class in almost a year bear with me and Google-)

In the back of the funeral home was a small office; that’s where Mr. Turner authored the obituaries. Although small, it has a sort of coziness to it with its darkened navy walls stained with cigarette smoke. Then, to cover them were clippings from anatomical books he published. But now, it’s a dimly lit room with the familiar stench of cigarettes. You stood in the doorway with your bag in hand.

Your eyes were already focused on the person who occupied the room, Mr. Turner. His thick, brown tortoiseshell glasses perched on the tip of his nose as his fingers typed away on the laptop. A cigarette tight between his lips while his nostrils trickled out smoke like some kind of work fiend. But yet, he somehow looked peaceful. His shoulders slouched, and his hair ruffled. The blue light from the computer clashed against his face exposing smooth yet wrinkled skin. Yet, in all this time, he managed to keep his youth; you envy it.

“Mr. Turner,” you spoke. The air was thick with silence as the keys clacked. Then it stopped, his head turned to you, a blank expression worn as you stopped dead in your tracks. The lamps above the bookshelf cast ghastly shadows against his face, making his eyes glow.

“I, I was just wondering if you were being serious when you said you didn't mind helping me with my biology course last week.” you stammer.

“My anatomy test is in like three days, and I just can't wrap my head around everything,” you finished. Your words spewed out like vomit as you gripped the strap of your bag. While you were nearly panicking, Mr. Turner frowned. His arms stuck out tall while he stretched. Long, thick fingers interlocked as he let out a soft grunt and then returned to his position.

“Yea, I told Marie to let you know after she told me you're studying to be in mortuary science,” he said, a slight smile gracing his face. You nod, enter the room, and plop on the small, gray, squeaky couch. You looked at him, then at the brass clock that hung behind him, then back at him. Your nerves scorched at knowing that your friend told her father what you wanted to do.

“So, what’s the test on?” He asked. The cigarette ash fell onto the desk as he set it in the nearby ashtray. You paused, swallowing dryly before gripping the edge of the couch cushion you sat on.

“Uh...reproduction,” you said in a low voice. He hummed and looked at you again, his eyes a lot livelier.

“Hmm, do you have flashcards or no?” he asked, you shook your head ‘no.’ His index finger tapped the top of his knee rhythmically.

“Hand me your notebook,” Mr. Turner said, you scrambled and reached into your bag for it. You stood to hand it over, your legs rickety as you stood in front of him. His eyes peered up at you, scanning you up and down as he still tapped his finger against the desk. His gold band glimmered in the soft, yellow light as he clicked something off on his desktop. Flipping through your notebook for a moment lazily before speaking.

“Y/N?”

“Yea?” you perked up as he sat your notebook in his lap.

“Do you remember the barbeque your family threw that summer?” he asked, you sat down slow, still gazing at him while you nod. Both your eyes piercing into each other like needles before you blink. You were squirming in your skin as you nodded, vividly remembering the way his hands ran up your spine. Your cheeks heated up as you tugged on your top. Your ears rang from the silence, just the two of your gazing at each other.

“Yes,” you breathed to which Mr. Turner grinned. An almost crooked, hungry grin as he ran a finger through his hair. Bringing his chair out from his desk and sliding it right in front of you.

“How about we... study in a different way hmm?” he proposed. You nodded without a second thought, and the smirk on Alex’s face turned ghoulish. His dark eyes glowed within the small, dark room as you squirmed.

“Strip,” he commanded. You blinked, your whole body sweated as he stared you down. You slowly kicked your shoes off, each layer dropped onto the floor in soft thuds.

“Point to me where the vagina is,” he deadpanned. His warm honey, deep voice within the tiny room, like a bear growling within a cave. Once your jeans were gone, there was nothing left to remove. Your nakedness made you realize how warm it actually was in here. The beating in your chest turned into banging. You pressed your lips together tight, your hands shaky as you brought your arms to your chest.

“Y/N,” Mr. Turner said. You looked at him almost like your head was filled with cotton. His legs crossed to prop your notes against his slack-cladded knee. The lenses of his glasses now blocked by golden light as he waited.

“Yes, yes sir?” you asked. Your eyes wide like a deer in headlights. Anxiety began to bubble in your chest as he repeated himself.

“Point to me where the vagina is,” he said, even while repeating himself he just stayed purely monotone. As if you weren’t sat in front of him completely bare, he propped his head in his hand.

You scooted back on the couch, your body tense as you spread your legs, exposing your two puffy lips. Your eyebrows furrowed while your left hand reached down, past your stomach. Spreading your pussy lips with your middle and pointer finger.

“Do you need a mirror?” he asked, your eyes widened as Alex just watched you unfold. The idea of your cunt being seen back to you made a slither of shame appear in the pit of your stomach.

“It’s okay to need help, isn’t that why you’re here?” he cooed. You blinked, everything you thought about Mr. Turner may be wrong. You looked at him blankly, his fluffy shoulder-length hair was pulled back into a little half-up ponytail as he sat the book down onto the desk.

He leaned in close, the smell of bourbon and jasmine was faint while his eyes refused to stray from yours. Should you say something? Maybe you do need a mirror, you’d never know.

“Can you move your right hand for me?” he asked. The timbre voice rumbled through the room as he rested his hand on your ankle. Reaching down, the pad of your finger poked around. Cringing at the feeling of your finger poking at your urethra, almost like taking a big inhale of car exhaust.

But then that cringing vanished as you eased inside your hole. A soft gasp left you as your cunt began to stretch at the intrusion. Mr. Turner sat there unmoved, his eyes trained on your finger curiously.

“Is that where it is darling hmm?” He asked, a smirk bloomed on his face as arousal bubbled out of your little hole.

“Yes Mr. Turner,” you breathed. He hummed in approval then gently pulled your hand away, your finger removed from your cunt. His eyes went from yours down to between your legs. Your eyes clenched tight as he leaned closer. His breath ghosted against your legs, the follicles in your skin stood up as his closeness became ‘coke-headed’ close. His head hovered above your pelvis, his eyes looked down at the view.

“What a gorgeous thing Y/N/N,” Alex said. His thumb pulled the two thick lips apart to gaze upon the hole. His peer grew once more as he continued to gaze at your pussy.

“Tell me,” he began, his hands remove themselves from between your legs and ventured toward your inner thighs. They gripped the fat of your thighs tightly as he pecked your lips. Your eyes widened at the action,

“Now,” he said. His right hand and left leg untangled themselves, unzipping the golden zip of his dark green slacks. Fuck, the last time you saw him like this your own intoxication interrupted. But now there was no coitus interruptus, just you.

“I know you guys joke about the clitoris but….” Once he unzipped the slacks, the shade of this boxers were a deep maroon, but there wasn’t enough time to fully gaze once he pulled himself out.

Thick, that’s all literally all you could think, like any girl in a porno; will that thing even fucking fit in you?

“Which is more sensitive huh, the tip of my penis…or that adorable little clit of yours?” He asked, his cock ran across your slit, heat radiated off him. Fuck, he felt so warm, warmer than the room itself. Instead of static you felt fire licking up your sides.

“The clitoris?” You said, more like asked, maybe he didn’t catch the sudden inflection. Alex’s eyebrow raised, however…fuck he caught it.

“Are you sure dearest? Do you need an example?” He asked. Grabbing the base of his member and rubbed his tip against your vulva. That fire that licked up your sides, now seared them.

“Oh,” you shivered, his tip is flushed as he rubbed it against your clitoris. Mr. Turner groaned, eyes screwed shut while he see-sawed against your soaking slit. Deep-red tip moved in a circular motion as you whined, squirming against the couch as you gasp.

“Are you sure now?” He asked.

“T,the clitoris sir,”

“Hmm,”

His rubbing became faster, as if he was consumed by pleasure. Out of your control, moans continued to slip from your mouth as his thumb eased his tip inside. Gasps filled the room. Your eyes cracked open to see Mr.Turner, his glasses now perched atop his head as he clenched his eyes shut. His smooth, pale skin pasted in a thin sheen of sweat, his crow's feet now more prominent skin wrinkles like how one ruche cloth.

“Fuck-” he cursed, your hand that held your lips spread snaked to his. A fire blazed against your cheeks at the feeling of his hand against yours. Odd, such a trivial interaction sent your heart into overdrive and your scalp all prickly.

“Mr.Turn-”

“Alex,” he groaned out, his eyes opened while he reached down and gripped the fat of your thighs.

"Alex," you gasp. Your eyebrows furrowed as he gazed down at you, almost like he's never seen you before.

"Are we still studyin'?" you asked. Then you both went silent; your heavy breaths could be heard throughout the tiny office. This silence, however, was tensionless. Like a little break.

"No," he panted. His face leaned down to your ear. He hummed and slowly began to thrust inside. The feeling of his sheer girth nearly painful, your eyes screwed shut. Your hips felt wide almost like they weren’t supposed to bend like this.

The two of you panted as Mr. Turner’s hips rocked slowly. Watching your every move as his hips rolled against yours. Your legs burned slightly, making your face ball up as a hot tear rolled down your cheek.

“Alex!” You cried. Your hands gripped at his clothed shoulders. He ran his fingers up your spine all while tangling himself into him.

“Shh, shh, I know it hurts angel…you’re so tight though,” he cooed, to which you looked away flushed. Alex’s chuckles filled the room, still praising you sweetly as his hips pulled away from yours.

“Just breathe for me,” he continued, Mr. Turner’s lips pressed against the left side of your face. The rough hairs of his beard scratched against your skin. The pain slightly dulled as soft lips press all over your face. His little whispers and coos finally subdued once he felt your hips buck against his.

If you could take a picture of the sheer pleasure that appeared on Mr.Turner’s face. His lips curled into a large grin. His large hands ran over your breasts, his palms rough, calloused as he pawed and squeezed at your flesh.

“Al-“

“You’re gonna pass the exam-“ he blurted right before pounding into your cunt. You stare at him wide, the tip of his penis nudge against the swollen, spongey spot that made your entire body shudder and a loud moan to come from your lips.

The wallpaper appeared to be peeling or it may have been your head rocking up and down from Alex’s thrusts. His hair dangled down against his forehead as his cock plunged into your wet pussy, the squelches brought your hands up to shield your face. Embarrassed if you could still feel that with your nakedness on full display and your legs spread wide giving him a full view.

“H, How?” you finally squeaked, your eyes big as you gazed up at him. You would've been actually studying for said exam if it weren't for his cock that thrusted deep inside of you, nudging against your spot once more. He moved your hand away as you whine loudly, now able to fully look at him in the dim light.

“How can you fail the easiest exam in medicine?” he chided, his hips snapped against yours, a loud slapping sound filled your ears. His tip poked at the tight ring of your cervix. Your moans grew loud, echoing throughout the tiny, dark funeral home. The couch lurched with each deep thrust he made. His tip was kissing your cervix more as your pussy gush around him.

Alex moaned at the sight, his eyes glued between your legs before he spoke once more.

“I mean- we’re ‘reproducing’ right now,” he teased, you gazed up at him. If it were anyone else who said that, you'd get up and dip out, but it's not anyone. You shivered at the words clenching around him and hearing his moans in response.

“What’s that called Y/N?” Mr. Turner asked, eyeing you with curiosity. His hips still moved as you thought of anything to say yet the way his thick cock fucked into you deep dumped out all your words like a piggy bank. Easing against your spot as you moan.

“C’mon Y/N…what’s it called when you squeeze your cute little pussy around my cock?” He asked, a brow raised on his sweaty forehead as you shiver and clench around him again. Unable of an answer you blurt,

“Contraction?” You asked meekly to which he chuckled low. His laughter rumbled against your chest as you look up at him. Your big eyes couldn’t sway him however as he grabbed your leg and placed it on his hip, forming a pressure in your lower stomach akin to someone sticking a finger deep inside your belly button.

“Wanna try again?” He teased, the golden light tickled the sides of his face, shimmering through his locks of hair as he gazed down at you. However this time, you answered him,

“Vaginismus,” you said, still unsure. Your mind occupied on your friend’s dad’s cock thats stretching your walls.

Mr.Turner, or Alex tapped his chin, now actually serious. He gazes down at you. Scanning over your body as if you’re a text book or an anatomical diagram as the silence crept back in. Your chests heaving as he searched for an answer.

During that tense, confused silence you heard footsteps. As if not even the dead that rested here wanted you to finish upon hearing the loud, slow, clicking footsteps. Mr.Turner’s eyes widened as he paled—quickly, he scrambled. Pulling out of you, to your dismay. You began to whine softly, but he simply shushed you by pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“Get dressed we’ll finish at some other time,” he whispered before getting up and adjusting himself. A scowl appeared on his face as he tucked himself back in his slacks and wandering out to investigate the noise.

Leaving you all to yourself in the empty room…

“Who’s here?” Mrs. Parks-Turner’s voice filled the quiet hall, to which you tensed. Your heart stilled, scrambling to get dressed once more.

“No one Vivi, just a video in my office…”

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒅: @rentsturner @harrysbestiee

*if you’d like to be tagged just message me ‘tagged’*

#anya—anya #my fics #alex turner #alex turner x reader #alex turner x y/n #alex turner x you #funeral director! alex #mentor x mentee #arctic monkeys #full story #the bar🍸#mortuary au #Spotify #smut #𝔓𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔠𝔲𝔪🪦

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lahooozaherr · 1 year

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I Will Always Find You

Chapter 1

Word Count: 4.8K

Warnings: Kidnapping, dead parent mention, good relationship with parent, drugging (implied)

MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI. AGELESS/BLANK ACCOUNTS WILL BE BLOCKED.

My tag list (instructions & requirements)

Chapter Summary: You’re a princess attending a diplomat event on Naboo with your father, a senator. He enlists his old friend, Greef Karga, to hire the best he knows to be your bodyguard for the week. Meeting the Mandalorian sparks a mutual fascination between you and him.

A/N: This takes place between season 2 and Book of Boba Fett although I do take some liberties with canon. The Razor Crest still exists because obvious reasons. Space birth control is a thing. Trying to bring out the sassy Din I know exists. It’s been over ten years since I’ve written and posted fanfic so please be gentle with me!

Song Inspo: Safety Net by Arianna Grande

Inspo Playlist

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Read it on AO3

Present Day

Wherever you were, it was dark and humid. Sometimes the sun shined through the small, barred window of the room you were placed in. It had been a few days, or at least that’s what it felt like to you, but you hadn’t kept count. Twice a day, meager rations were placed into your room quickly by someone you never really saw.

You couldn’t help but think how this was such a pathetic way to die. Slowly, but surely, you were losing any hope or will to live and any fight left in you also diminished quickly. The timing of all of this was awful. Saying goodbye to the Mandalorian had left a hole in your heart. Life would just never be the same after him.

If only you had told him how you felt. The thought of that had only made you more depressed, given your current situation. That last goodbye, full of unspoken feelings and confessions that wouldn't leave the confines of your beating chests, was all you could think about, aside from your duties as princess, your relationship with your father, and wanting so badly to help his burden as senator. And all of that amounted to this? What a cruel joke the universe had played on you.

The jingling of keys jerked your attention towards the door. A man you don’t recognize walks in, he is probably the same person who's been bringing you your “meals”, if you can call them that. You remained on the small, creaking bed that had been the only piece of furniture in the room besides a makeshift privy.

“We’re leaving later today,” he leans forward with a cloth and wraps it around your eyes. You don’t bother to say anything, the small bruises on your body are enough evidence that asking questions will get you no answers anyways.

After wrapping the cloth around your head and securing it around your eyes, he grabs your wrists. You hear the click of fasteners and drop your hands to your lap. Finally, you hear his footsteps exit the room and you’re alone again.

What was the point of this? To make sure you can’t tell where you’re being taken? It’s hard to care anymore. That flame of self preservation has been increasingly low and dull the more the days drag on.

You had been kidnapped, you know that much at least. Not by who, though. It had happened on a random stop for fuel and supplies on the way back to your home planet. It was during your walk through the market near that stop, telling your father you’d be quick. The planet seemed safe enough but you’d guess that judgment was wrong, evidently.

The whole event was a blur after you had been grabbed back into an alley, made to smell a cloth and pass out. Since then you’ve been met with sneers and silence from the few you’ve seen of your captors. They didn’t harm you but they also didn’t care how they handled you, thus the bruising. Wherever you were, you could tell it at least housed several of them. This must be where they kept you before they decided what to do with you. For all you knew, they could have taken you to an entirely different planet while you were unconscious.

You’ve wondered if you’d be found. Would the Mandalorian find you? Or is he really long gone? Your father had to have at least tried to contact someone.

You sink back into yourself on the thin mattress, slipping back into a dreamless sleep.

—————————————————————————

Two weeks earlier…

It wasn’t long ago that Din had to leave Grogu with the Jedi. Grief had been a foreign emotion to him until then. So he dealt with it the only way he knew how: distract himself seeking quarries. Greef Karga had plenty of bounties for him under the table while he rebuilt Nevarro.

He made his way towards Karga’s office, weaving through the bustling city Nevarro had become in recent months. Merchants sold their goods and civilians worked together to build and improve their infrastructure.

The communication Karga sent to Din had been vague.

“Come see me when you’re done with this job, I have a new, interesting one for you.”

Din had originally scoffed at the statement. Interesting? Probably more like a headache. Karga was regularly roping him into weird and sometimes, very inconvenient, jobs. But he’d always at least hear him out.

Entering his office, Karga turns to him and smiles, “Mando!” The two clasp arms and shake, their usual greeting to each other. “Please, sit.” Gesturing him to the seat in front of his desk. He sits in his own chair and folds his hands out in front of him.

“I’m assuming you got my message!”

“Yes, saying you had an interesting job. Define interesting?”

Karga laughs, “you know me too well Mando. But I promise, this isn’t the usual ‘interesting’ I bring you on for. However, it is still very important.”

Din crosses his arm and leans back into the chair, tilting his helm to signal him to continue.

“A diplomatic gathering is happening in Naboo, one that I’m attending. A very good friend of mine, who is a senator, is requesting a bodyguard for his daughter. He asked me for my best and most trustworthy guy, and that guy is you.”

Din lightly hums, “a body guard while they’re in Naboo? Doesn’t that seem a bit much?”

“I see what you’re saying, my friend, but there’s more to it. We’ve caught word that a warlord seeks control of their territory and….lineage. It’s very important to him that his daughter’s protection is made a priority.”

“Lineage? Because they’re royalty?”

“That’s correct. She’s a princess. She will also be attending the events, their plan is for her to take on more of a senator role and take her father’s place one day.”

Din mulls the details over in his mind for a moment. Karga was right about it being interesting, but it’s nothing he couldn’t handle. If anything it was interesting that Karga had a friend who was royalty.

Karga continues, “you will be paid, very well if I might add. Your lodging and transportation will also be paid for. You and I will travel together.”

“Why not? Sure, I’ll do it.”

Karga claps his hands and stands up, “excellent! I’ll have my ship prepared and we’ll leave in due time.”

—————————————————————————

Naboo has to be one of your favorite places to visit. Your home planet had its own fair share of greenery, lakes and culture but it wasn’t as much as Naboo. Your family’s bloodline were far off cousins to the royalty here and thus you always had somewhere to stay when you were here.

For the entire week leading up to the trip, you thoroughly prepared yourself. You had classes and meetings to be attending soon and you wanted to do your best to properly represent your homeland. Your father had done well to provide you with everything you’d need, from learning etiquette as a senator but as well as politics and diplomacy.

A spacious room had been provided for you, already filled with some of your possessions and needed materials. You sat at a small vanity in the corner of the room, touching up your hair and makeup. Meetings didn’t start today but you’d be making rounds with your father regardless.

“You can do this,” you mouthed to your reflection in the mirror. You didn’t 100% believe yourself though. There was immense pressure to take on the responsibility, though you knew your father would never force you. You wanted to help him, the most selfless and hardworking man that you looked up to more than anyone else in the galaxy. More than that, you wanted to improve your leadership skills for the sake of your people.

But a nagging feeling you’ve tried to squash in recent years always crept at the back of your mind. Is this what you really want? It was easier to keep that thought in the dark and to not question it. But that became more difficult the older you grew.

Would your father be disappointed in you if you chose another path in life? Probably not. But he was also aging, and that worried you always. Losing your mother a few years ago had seemed to fast track that aging. He is a compassionate and caring leader, and an adoring father, all in spite of losing the love of his life. You struggled with the thought of leaving him to deal with everything on his own.

Suddenly you hear your father knocking at your door, “can I come in?”

“Yes father!” You call out to him. The door to your room slides open. You can see him from behind you in the mirror. His smile is bright and warm, as always when he looks at you. Keeping eye contact with him in the mirror, he comes up behind you and places his hands on your shoulders.

“You remind me so much of your mother.”

“You always say that,” you smile back at him.

“And I mean it, every single time,” he lays a soft kiss to the back of your head. “Are you almost ready? We have some people waiting for us.”

You furrow your brow, “really? Who?”

He smiles, “it’s a surprise, you’ll see.”

—————————————————————————

After landing the ship in a nearby port, Din and Karga soon found themselves walking through the expansive, wide halls of one of Naboo’s palaces. This one was reserved for events like this. Senators and other political figures got to stay in the provided lodging of the palace, very convenient for the activities of that week.

Much like the rest of Naboo, the palace was beautiful. Lush gardens lined several courtyards within its walls, perfect for gathering with others or even just oneself. The halls were made of a shiny granite, any steps across it left a small clicking noise that echoed in the comfortable silence.

The two came upon a small, more private courtyard. Complete with a stone bench and small fountain in the middle. To the far side there was a door to someone’s quarters, Din had figured.

“Alright, we should be meeting them here,” Karga says while looking around the area.

“This is exciting for me,” he beams. “This year I was finally invited, with a good word in from my friend. This will be great for relations for the society Nevarro is becoming.”

Din is half listening, taking in his surroundings while still as a statue. It didn’t matter so much to him, this was just another job. Another thing to keep him busy, to keep him from missing Grogu.

“Karga!” The voice comes from another man who looks about Karga’s age, emerging from the door in the courtyard. “My friend, it’s been too long!”

The two share a hearty laugh and hug, patting each other on the shoulder respectively. Pulling away, they lock hands and shake.

“Likewise, Senator,” Karga turns and gestures towards Din.

“Mando, this is the Senator, my good friend and our client for this week.”

The Senator reaches his hand out and Din reciprocates, shaking it, “so this is the Mandalorian I’ve heard so much about! I’m so grateful you took the job.”

Din nods and steps back into position.

“My daughter should be out here in just a few minutes. She’s been very nervous about this week. My own nerves are eased knowing I can trust her in your care. Karga has told me a great deal about you, and anyone he trusts that much has earned mine as well. You’ve been made aware of our situation, I hope?” He queries Karga, who nods in response.

“Of course, I made sure.”

“I’m very grateful. I will spare no costs to make sure my daughter is safe.”

Din notices the glimmer of fear in the Senator’s eyes. Karga shared more details about the warlord threatening them on the way to Naboo. He found it odd that this warlord had chosen, what seemed to him, a random planet. Despite its royalty and trading, it was a more distant planet in the outer rim not too many others knew about.

“Then what is so special about this planet?” Din asks, really more so thinking out loud.

“Probably because they seem weaker, and have similar resources to Naboo. They are smaller and lesser known, for a warlord that’s an ideal place to set roots and control,” Karga replies, nonchalantly. “It’s not exactly that they’re weak, but they’ve chosen to keep more to themselves. But times change and relations have to be made to keep their economy running. That draws attention.

“What does the daughter have to do with it then? Why target her?”

“Well, negotiation for starters. Ransom. A threat directly to their lineage. If she’s killed, there’s one less direct descendant to take on their leadership when their current senator is retired or passed on. Although, I doubt the plan is to try and kill her right away.”

“Right. Makes more sense to hold her hostage, I guess.”

Karga sighs, “You’re probably right. And without much of an army at this time, they can’t afford to take them with them.”

____________________________________________

Leaving the door to your room into its adjoining courtyard, you notice your father standing with two other figures.

“Father?”

All three men turn to face you, your father’s smiles, “There you are! Gentlemen, this is my beautiful daughter.”

With part of the gown you’re wearing bunched in one hand to give you room to walk, you descend the small stairs and approach them. Smiling and bowing your head slightly, the two other men do the same in response. “It’s nice to meet you…” shooting your father a clueless look.

Your father clears his throat, “my dear, this is a good friend of mine, Greef Karga.” Karga nods in acknowledgement, holding his hand out for you. You take it gently and allow him to give it a small squeeze before returning it to yourself.

“I’m sure you don’t remember me, the last I saw of you, you were still an infant. You have grown into such a lovely young woman.”

“Thank you, that’s so kind. It’s nice to meet you again.”

Your father quickly interjects, “And the surprise for you, my darling.” He points to the steel clad figure standing next to Karga. “The Mandalorian I have hired as your bodyguard this week.”

Distracted might be an understatement when you first spotted him. Compared to you, he was tall and intimidating. His armor is made of beskar, shining in the sunlight. You were immediately intrigued by him. Mandalorian culture came up in your studies plenty of times, and you had a vague knowledge of it stored in your memory.

The Mandalorian is silent, only giving you a small nod, and you respond in kind. Very fitting for someone like him to be silent and emotionless. You wanted to know more about him. Aside from the bodyguard detail, you understood why your father kept this as a surprise, he knew better than anyone what interests you and your thirst for knowledge.

Your father claps his hands, “Shall we show you two around?”

Karga waves ahead, “By all means!”

Karga and your father walk ahead, leaving you and the Mandalorian to follow behind, side by side. You wanted to keep staring at him but tried not to, you didn’t want to seem rude and you certainly couldn’t tell where his eyes were. Yet.

Approaching another set of small stairs, you habitually gather a corner of your gown to free up room for your feet to step down. Karga holds his hand out to you once more, this time to help you.

Once at the bottom of the small staircase, Karga points at the Mandalorian, “Mando, learn to do that for her. It’s proper.”

The Mandalorian tilts his helmet at him, your face starts to heat up, “Oh please it’s really not necessary!”

He laughs and returns to your father’s side, walking ahead. Both of you follow behind them, now in a sort of awkward silence. You mull over in your head what you could say but you’re afraid of sounding….immature? Incompetent?

“I-I’m sorry,” you begin. “Please don’t worry about something like that.”

The Mandalorian doesn’t respond right away and it makes you even more nervous. Finally, he replies, “Do you plan to wear more outfits like that?”

You felt flustered, quickly. This is the first time you’re hearing his voice, although modulated because of his helmet. Your curiosity only grew.

“Uhm, yes…”

“Then I will help you,” he says, with a hint of softness that somehow filtered through his helmet.

Your now racing heart doesn’t relent and you find yourself seriously questioning why.

—————————————————————————

Karga and your father might as well have their own bubble, leading your group while they engage in deep conversation and play catch up.

Unfortunately this left you and the Mandalorian in a sort of awkward silence. Well, awkward to you at least. He’s probably fine, probably prefers it that way. You had hundreds of questions you could ask but none that were appropriate after only just meeting him. You searched your mind for ways to break the ice.

“Do youuuu…..get jobs like this a lot?” You decided to shoot that one out.

“No.”

Dammit. Of course. New question.

“What kind of jobs do you usually get, then?”

“Bounties.”

Maker, this was almost painful. Intimidating might have been an understatement for you. Something in you wanted to fight for his attention, his actual attention. Not what he was paid to do.

Your small group would come to stops here and there, your father guiding your guests and showing them where everything is and what’s what. You’d occasionally pass others who would nod in your direction and carry on. The palace was peaceful and quiet.

“Are you ok?” His voice startled you out of your thoughts. You glance his way without turning your head.

“Yes. Why?”

“Your heart rate is spiking.”

Oh no, he can tell? Because of his helmet? How embarrassing.

You let out a deep sigh, “this is my first time meeting a Mandalorian. Admittedly, I’m trying to come up with a conversation without prying too much.”

“That makes you nervous?”

“You’re tall, silent and intimidating. Of course.”

A small chuckle escapes his helmet in response to your sudden casual attitude, taking you by surprise. Did you somehow pull a laugh out of him?

“I’ll give you that.”

You smirk and let your eyes wander. Maybe this won’t be as hard as you had thought.

—————————————————————————

The way you look at him is…..different. Din is a trained warrior, he’s skilled in being able to read others. You wear your emotions and thoughts on your face pretty clearly. What he’s not exactly prepared for is the kind of emotions you’re displaying. When he first met your eyes (unbeknownst to you) he saw you look him up and down, curiously. A small smirk on your lips and your eyes change from inquisitive to….excitement? Was he reading that right?

At some point, your father’s tour tapered off. Karga suggested going into the nearby market for food and your father insisted. All four of you are now seated outside of a restaurant. Din, of course, did not eat. So that left him with more time to sit back, cross his arms over his chest and observe you.

It was hard to get a word in edgewise with your father and Karga. It felt like they had never stopped talking, having years to catch up on each other. He’d watch as you sat silently, your eyes would flit between the two of them, him and around you. Here and there you’d stop to stare at him for a minute, observing him right back. But you didn’t have the shield of a helmet to hide the eyes you gave him.

After finishing your food you started to become visibly impatient. You finally find a small moment of silence between those two and interject.

“Father, I’d like to wander around the market for a while if that’s alright with you. I’ll meet back up with you tonight?” You shoot him a look in your eyes that Din can definitely understand. Please let me go. I'm so bored.

He smiles back at you, although cautiously. He seems to hesitate, pausing before saying “Yes. Of course. Of course!” You stand up from your chair and stretch, Din also rises from his seat and stands.

“Don’t give the Mandalorian any trouble,” he winks at you, giving your hand a small squeeze before letting go. You give him a small tch with your tongue, rolling your eyes and turning to leave. Your father and Karga laugh heartily before resuming their previous conversation.

Din catches up to you and you let out a big sigh, “I’m sorry, any longer and I would have fallen asleep!”

“Karga has that effect on people sometimes.”

“You’re lucky though, you have a helmet, you could sleep and no one would really know.”

Din hums, amused, “don’t tell anyone.”

You couldn’t help but cackle back at his unexpected quip. You know for sure now that there’s a living, breathing person under there.

—————————————————————————

You’d noticed the Mandalorian does an excellent job of making himself look broad and strong. He was definitely a man of few words, so you tried to pay extra attention to his body language and mannerisms, which was still almost scarce on its own.

His armor glinted in the early evening light. Night life was starting up in the small area of town you were in. Some shops remained open alongside merchant stands and food vendors. Perfect timing on getting away from your father and Karga, otherwise you’d probably be dozing off.

But that still meant you were left in another silent moment like before. Only this time, the Mandalorian followed you.

You want to say more and break the silence, but your mind draws blanks on what to say. You finally settle with, “So! Uh, can I call you something? Maybe your name?” He’s silent for a minute before responding, “Mando is fine.”

Ah. Yes. Mando. Very creative.

“You don’t tell anyone your real name, do you?”

He glances at you on his side and nods.

“No, I don’t try to.”

He walked beside you as you took your time looking through merchant tables down the street of the city. The choices of items were almost endless. Clothes, books, and trinkets.

“So….besides standing around and brooding, what else can you tell me about yourself?”

He does a double take at you; you’re starting to run a record for most unexpected things ever said to him before. “Brooding?”

You laugh before turning to face him, the black T of his visor peering down at you. You had gotten close enough to him to really take in how broad he really is. A tension slowly built between you.

“You ask a lot of questions.”

“I’m just so fascinated by you”

“Yeah? Why?”

“I wonder just who you are, under that cool demeanor.”

He lets out something between a scoff and a laugh.

He’s used to the mixture of camaraderie or fear others tend to have towards him. But this? His brain almost short circuits, having to take a few minutes to process what you said. His helmet system alerts him to his own pickup in heart rate.

He settles on saying nothing, as usual, and you’ve already learned to not be bothered by that. You take it as an answer itself, sort of. You turn back to the table you’re standing at, browsing the small piles of clothing.

It was like the more the ice melted away between the two of you, the more you felt attuned to him. Maybe it was real or just your imagination, but if felt like you could start to tell where you think he’s looking at. You’d see his hands move in particular ways, clenching his fists at his sides or casually hooking his thumb into his bandolier.

The evening sky grew darker and the streets were lined in lanterns and lights. Music played somewhere in the distance, the crowd slowly died down. You decided it was time to head back, with Mando following after you.

You both turn down a quiet pathway. The silence between you had grown more comfortable. Fatigue has started to settle in your bones. You yawn and drop your shoulders, “just seven days. Seven days of dressing up and making appearances.”

“Do you have to dress like that everyday?” He asks, not that he exactly minds. The way you dress yourself is proper, ethereal. It was one of the first things he noticed about you. Which makes sense, because you’re royalty. Right, that’s why he noticed.

“I have to represent my family, and my home, so yes. I have to look my best every day.”

You pause for a moment, your eyes staring off into the distance as if you were mentally somewhere else.

“It’s like my armor,” you add, softly smiling to yourself.

Mando notices the distant look in your eye, and the sound of your voice. A sudden sadness had seemed to creep in. Something about seeing you like that pulled at his heart.

As if returning to yourself, you snap your eyes to meet his visor and smile.

He recognizes that look, the feeling emanating off of you. That was your wall, your learned defense mechanism. He knows underneath his armor, he’s a grieving man. A man who is not sure of his path anymore. An apostate.

He wonders who you are, under the well pampered, royal facade. Underneath the manners and gowns.

He mentally agrees, the fascination between you two is mutual.

—————————————————————————-

You’ve really got to start putting on that charm you know you have.

Wait, why are you telling yourself that?

For fun, of course.

If you’re going to be stuck doing this for seven days, you might as well have fun during it. Is striking up a flirtatious banter with the Mandalorian so bad? You’re curious.

Everything about him says “don’t fuck with me.” You’d noticed the glances he got, from the town to even inside the palace. The way crowds parted for him and others looked on and whispered.

You don’t think father thought that through when he hired the Mandalorian. All in an effort to protect you from potential dangers and he has, now, brought more attention to you. But you can’t necessarily blame him. Mando seemed more than capable and his reputation precedes him just from the looks he’s getting everywhere you go.

He had a swagger in his walk and gave off an aura that says he knows he’s a walking deadly weapon.

And all of that combined was exciting to you. It made your heart stutter. Maybe you should ponder that, but you put that thought aside for later.

You have felt his gaze since you met. At first you’d thought you were being paranoid, or maybe self indulgent, you weren’t sure of which at the time. But you’re more certain of it now. Especially when you sat across from him at dinner. But that’s what he’s getting paid to do, right?

Now, as you walk alongside him back to the palace, you’re mentally bashing yourself. You told him you felt like your gowns were like armor and felt ridiculous. There is no comparison of your clothes to his cold beskar. After a smile, you change the subject, opting for the bolder route.

“I’ve felt your eyes on me all day.”

Mando remains silent, looking ahead. You half expect him to scoff. Instead, he stops walking. You stop in front, facing him. In the nick of time, you two had made it to the garden area outside of the door to your suite.

“I could say the same for you.”

Your stomach flips, even though you already knew you weren’t exactly hiding when you watched him. He leans back on his legs and crosses his arms, waiting for your reply.

Right, yes, a reply. Hurry, and think of something to quip back at him.

“Is that wrong?”

He hums, considers your question, “no, just more obvious.”

“Yes, well, not all of us have the luxury of anonymity right now,” you nod your head to him, he shrugs.

You raise an eyebrow and smile, “so you admit it? You’ve been watching me all day.”

His stance freezes, and now you know you’ve got him, you smirk.

He steps closer to you, just enough to barely brush against you. His form is wide and tense, “it’s my job.”

There’s a small tone in his voice. Darker, smooth and matter of fact.

Your eyes drift from down up and focus on where you expect his eyes to be, you can hear your heartbeat in your ears. This is suddenly a contest of confidence, and you muster any bit you’ve got left in you.

“In that case, Mandalorian,” your voice drifts, breathy and low, you run a finger across his chest plate as you strut past him, “I will just have to give you more to watch.”

You peer at him over your shoulder and smile. “I’ll see you back here in the morning,” he says. You notice his stature becoming more relaxed. One hand on his hip, knee popped out, he watches you disappear inside.

Next Chapter

A/N: Thank you @veggiestreehugger so much for beta-reading this for me 😭❤️

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin smut #din djarin x you #din djarin x female reader #din djarin fanfic #mando x you #mando #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal #Star Wars #mandalorian

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eyeslikewatercoolers · 4 months

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I feel like there’s gotta be a Christmas vacation prompt somewhere in what you reblogged, right? I’ll even pick out a dialogue prompt if you want me to!

Anyway, I *really* want to see a Squirrels Trip Christmas Vacation. Not like the movie Christmas Vacation, like a winter version of Squirrels Trip. Or if that’s too many characters for a one shot, you could always just make it Vandergerd with Jackae and Kiki… 😏

Ooohh… like a ski trip ⛷️That was the first thing that came to mind when I got this. So a nice little winter vacation trip to round everything out. Takes place about two years after the original Squirrels Trip Rusical.

"Alright, here's everyone's room assignments." Grace walked up to the rest of her friends, who were gathered around the large fireplace in the ski lodge. She passed out all the key cards to everyone before sitting on the loveseat next to Jill.

Jackae looked at her key card and glanced at Kiki's next to her. Both said 308, and she wasn't surprised at all.

"Guess we're roomies again," Kiki said, before putting the card in her coat pocket.

Jackae thought about how she and Kiki were always in the same room assignment whenever they went on a trip with their friends. Not that Jackae minded it, she and Kiki became closer after her friend left her husband and split the custody of their sons.

The rest of the group gathered their luggage and headed toward the elevators. Jackae looked suspiciously at her friends as they all found their way to their set of rooms in the resort.

"Do you ever find it weird that we are always roommates on these trips?" Jackae asked Kiki as they walked down the hall, as Kiki looked at the room numbers.

A few yards in front of them, Amber turned around to look at the two behind her. "No, why would you think that's weird?" she asked.

Ronnie glanced behind her shoulder, "Didn't you ask that during our trip to the lake last spring?" she added.

"And you said that to me on our camping trip last summer too."

"Jill, you aren't helping." Jackae rolled her eyes as she and Kiki turned the corner to where their room was.

Kiki walked in first and ran her hand along the wall to find the light switch. "You know, I never really thought about it before that we always share a room on these trips."

Jackae tilted her head in thought as she still waited in the hallway, "Really? Ever since the trip after my divorce, Grace always bunks us together." She said as Kiki found the light switch and clicked it on.

Once she looked at the room, it all made sense.

On the bed, there were two towels folded to look like two swans kissing, surrounded by several rose petals. The coffee table had a small ice bucket, accompanied by a bottle of champagne and two tall glasses. Lastly in the corner of the room, a hot tub had a cover and instructions for use.

"Why did they give us the honeymoon suite?" Kiki wondered aloud.

"Because our friends think they are hilarious," Jackae responded as she walked closer and sat her suitcase down. She came to the realization that this was definitely on purpose, and so were all the other times they roomed together.

They wanted her and Kiki to get together, and their efforts were anything but subtle.

The next morning, after meeting everyone for breakfast in the hotel restaurant, Jackae pulled her sister to the side as everyone else got ready to go to the ski slopes.

"Why do I feel like you have something to do with the room Kiki and I got assigned," Jackae said in a low voice.

"Oh, why I have no idea what you mean by that," Jill said in a mock-innocent tone.

"You booked the rooms since your wife's family has connections to this place," Jackae responded in a deadpan tone. "You know very well that you booked us the honeymoon suite on purpose."

Jill rolled her eyes as she tightened her ski boots. "We all know that you've both had sexual tension for months. You're both single, just talk and get it over with already!" she said in a loud whisper.

Jackae looked to the other side of the room, as Kiki was talking to Grace as she zipped her coat. She couldn't disagree with her sister, she did find herself attracted to Kiki the more they became closer. But she still wasn't certain if her friend felt the same way or not.

"Are we ready to go? I need to get on the slopes before the non-resort guests get there and take up all the good slopes." Ronnie said as she carefully put her goggles over her hair.

Everyone nodded and started to leave to go outside, but Jill suddenly stopped in her tracks.

"Actually, I forgot my watch in the room." She said, and glanced at Grace, "Can you open the door for me?" she asked, giving the other woman a knowing look.

"Of course, the rest of you go ahead," she said as she glanced at Ronnie and Amber. "We'll catch up with you soon," she said as she and Jill quickly left in the other direction.

As she followed everyone else outside to the slopes, Jackae had a sinking feeling that her sister was up to no good.

The feeling didn't last long as the group started their brief ski lesson and started on the smaller hills. Grace and Jill eventually joined the group again, but seemed to act normal around everyone else.

But the feeling came back as Jackae found herself sitting on the same ski-lift seat as Kiki. The others were still on the ground, but the mechanics of the lift came to a sudden halt.

"Are we stuck up here?" Kiki asked, looking over the edge of the seat to the operator.

"We're having some technical issues, but we are working on getting moving as soon as possible." the operator responded, before looking to the group of friends on the ground.

"Are you guys okay up there? You might be up there for a while." Amber said, slightly out of view. She was just out of sight to take out her small wristlet and hand something to the operator discretely.

"I think we'll be okay," Jackae said, but shivering from the breeze. She noticed that kiki felt the chill in the air as well.

"It's freezing up here," Kiki said, rubbing her hands together. "Do you think we could...like share body heat?" she asked, gesturing to the space between them.

"Oh, yeah that's a good idea," Jackae said, as she carefully moved closer to Kiki, feeling the warmth from the other woman.

Jackae never felt so awkward around her close friend before. They slept in the same room tons of times and even slept in the same bed the night before.

But being on a small bench on a broken-down ski lift felt a lot more vulnerable, for some reason.

They were stuck on the lift for a little over an hour, invested in small talk. Jackae nearly forgot that the ski lift was actually broken, until they both felt a sudden jerking motion.

"It's just working out the kinks, but we'll get you ladies down soon!" the operator said. Their friends were sitting on a nearby bench, all drinking hot chocolate from styrofoam cups.

"Before we get down, I wanted to ask if you knew why everyone is acting so weird on this trip," Kiki said.

"Like how they are trying extra hard for us to be alone?" Jackae asked, glad that she wasn't the only one to notice.

"Yeah, it's like they want us to-" Kiki was interrupted by the sudden jerking motion of the seat, causing both of them to collide to be much closer. Their faces were now inches apart, and Jackae could feel Kiki's breath warm her cold nose.

Jackae wasn't sure who leaned closer to who, but she felt a pair of soft lips on her own. It was desperate and greedy, but she felt just the same in that moment

As the ski lift moved into a smother motion, they both pulled away, but close enough to notice the details in each other's eyes.

"I've been wanting to do that for a long time now," Jackae admitted, barely under her breath,

"Me too," Kiki said, as their gloved hands met.

They would deal with their cheering friends once they got off the ski lift. But for now, Jackae never wanted to leave this moment with Kiki.

#jackiki #cdr3 #my writing #rpdr fanfiction #my drabbles

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queentheweeb · 1 year

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Alpha Denki Kaminari X Omega Koji Koda

Admittingly Denki never thought he would actually get to be friends with the quietest student in the class, right behind Shoji. He was Denki after all. He was loud, rambunctious, liked pulling pranks a lot, and the works. However, he did suffer from anxiety and has ADHD. Both mental illnesses occurred as a sort of side effect of his quirk. Electricity ran through his veins, pumping through never fully at ease. He always needed to do something which is why studying was always hard for him. Math and Science? God help his soul. Languages, the arts, and history? He had the best grades in the class behind Izuku. He never said anything to Iida or Bakugo because their egos would not be able to handle it. He is sure to tell Izuku though because he's Izuku. He is just a great person. He needed something though to help with his anxiety when the buzzing was too much when everything was too much. His need for something to relax him is what leads him to knock on the shy Omega's door at midnight. It was Saturday, just turned Saturday so he knew he wasn't sleeping yet. He waited patiently for an answer smiling sheepishly at a surprised Koda

"I know this is sudden and you don't have to but, uh, I was wondering if I can pet Yuwai-chan. It's okay If I can't." He waited for any indication that Koda wanted him to leave or not. He was expecting him to shake his head no but, was surprised when he opened the door a little wider allowing him to come inside. "Thank you Koda-kun." He stood by the door not sure where he was allowed to be. He was just happy he was allowed to come inside at all. They both were risking it being inside his dorm. Aizawa would have both their heads. He watched as the boy went to the center of his room with Yuwai in his arms and patted the space in front of him. Denki walked and sat down in the space holding out his hands and arms the way they all do when petting Yuwai. Carefully Koda placed her in his arms.

"She likes you..." He looked up surprised at the sudden voice. It was really rare for him to talk. He wanted to hear more of it. He was staring because Koda started shrinking in on himself.

"I'm sorry for staring...You have a nice voice." He looked down at the very calm rabbit rubbing gently down her back repeatedly. He doesn't know why but when he was around Koda he felt the need to be reserved and more calm. He didn't feel the need to be seen, Koda saw and heard him just fine. If only he knew that this one night of needing to be calm was going to lead to a whirlwind of emotions and a blossoming romance.

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Denki found himself distracted a lot in a good and bad way whenever anything and everything involved Koda. His feelings caught him off guard in the beginning. He never did expect to fall for the quiet animal lover but, here he was with heart palpitations, sweaty palms, grinning like an idiot in his presence, training with him, trying to make him laugh and impressed with animal information, buying nature books and stuff he likes. God, he was courting him without telling him it was courting.

"I still can't believe it's Koda you have the hots for." He felt his eye twitch at Sero keeping himself from snapping at him. He did not mean anything by the statement because yes, it was a bit of a surprise to really like the animal lover, wanting to court him and all of that. However, there was nothing wrong with Koda. He was fine just the way he was from his face to his body to his personality. "You good bro? You're glaring at me." Denki blinked not noticing that he was glaring at Sero

"You low-key just insulted Koda." Mina the ever so smart one pointed out. The cog wheels turned in his head before clicking.

"Oh shit, man, I'm sorry I didn't mean anything by it-" Denki waved his hand at him. It was just his feelings for him. Alpha instincts. Make him feel protective and all of that fancy jazz.

"It's fine. I think I'm overreacting to you. I know you don't mean any harm. None of you do." Denki took a deep breath biting into his sandwich harsher than intended. His eyes instinctively went over to Koda who was sitting with his usual friend group. He had turned to catch his eyes and Denki gave a wave, like he always did, happy to get a wave in return. He turned back to his friends who were all smirking at him "Ah, fuck you, you guys know how I feel already." They all joked and teased talking about different things. He appreciated that despite being bashful, they all can be quite open with their crushes. Mina is the best because she knows how to toe the line of teasing without making it super obvious. A precarious line that she teeters over dangerously but, never has crossed.

"So Kirishima likes Tetsutetsu, I like Koda, Mina you like Ochako, and Sero you like Jiro, I'm pretty sure Bakugo likes Todoroki or Midoriya, maybe both." He ducked in time to miss the swing from Bakugo. He was being violent which meant he was right. The rest of lunch went by smoothly, with the end of the day coming by with free-lance training. It was Friday and the last hour where Aizawa didn't give a shit whether or not you trained properly as long as you were moving and doing something. Denki decided to see if he can grab Koda and train together a.k.a semi-train and more talking. He loved it and he was confident enough and observant as well to notice Koda at least enjoyed his company. He was surprised though when they all changed into their gym uniform and went outside he was approached by Koda first. A pleasant surprise.

"D-do you want to....train?" He was shuffling side to side and it took everything in Denki not to bear hug the gentle giant. God how can one person be so cute, he doesn't understand

"Of course! I was going to ask you but, you beat me to it." He grinned happily ear to ear. A smile never leaves his face when he was in his presence. He really was head over heels. For the next hour, the two of them focused on his electricity control as well as Koda's anivoice range in between using sign language to talk. A few people knew sign language so Denki made sure they were a little secluded so, said, people won't snoop in on their conversation. "Hey Koji, I got something I want to give you later on. Text me sometime this afternoon when you're free, yeah?" Denki was nervous but, he refused to show it. He was an Alpha! He had to be cool, calm, and collected. At least for Koji anyway. Koji stared at him, blinked, and with a soft smile nodded his head. Denki was excited.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Too soon it was the afternoon just about the evening time and Koda texted him to come to his room. Denki was nervous. He looked at the gift basket that he was working on for the last month to pop the question. He had a wolf, a giraffe, a penguin, and a raccoon stuffed animal, with candies, some nature DVDs, books, and tickets to go to the botanical gardens and the zoo. He did all of this so he can pop the question. It's been festering. He wants to ask him to be his Omega. He really hopes he says yes.

"Okay, Denki. It's okay. Everything is going to be okay." He had his scent patch off and the basket in his arms. He took a deep breath, looked at the text sent a minute ago, and made his way to Koda's dorm. He let his squad know what was happening so they were aware. If it backfired, they had snacks and movies, and ears to listen to. He really hoped it didn't backfire. He made it to the dorm knocking and waiting for an answer. He heard shuffling 'here goes nothing'. The door was opened to a smiling Koji

"Hi, Denki! Come in." He was so cute allowing him inside his humble abode. He looked and saw a nest built on his bed. A really comfy-looking nest at that. The door was closed and locked behind him. That's when he pulled out the basket before he chickened out. He heard the gasp and couldn't look so he focused on the nest.

"I, uh, have been courting you for a very long time. Even before I acknowledged it myself. It all started that night I asked to pet Yuwai. I loved being your friend, it's the best and most soothing and calming friendship I ever had the pleasure of experiencing. However, I wanted more...so I started courting you slowly and I thought, um, I would ask you with a basket. I got tickets for botanical gardens and the zoo...I-if you want t-to go that i-is." He was stuttering, his nerves getting the best of him. That's why he was surprised when he got an armful of Koji. He obviously hugged back.

"I...would love to go with you...." Denki couldn't believe his ears. He squeezed Koji back loving the muscles and softness as well under his pajamas.

"Does...this mean you...want me as your Alpha?" A quick yes was heard and Denki was on cloud nine. He couldn't believe it worked and his pining and his feelings were all returned. This was the best day of his life. "Thank you." He couldn't wait to show him off to everyone.

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What do you guys think about it?

#a/b/o au #a/b/o dynamics #denki kaminari #alpha denki kaminari #alpha denki #koji koda #Omega Koji #Omega Koda #Denki x Koji #manga #fanfic #anime #fanfiction #mha #quotev #quirks #fluff #bnha

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dkehoe · 12 days

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OK, I can’t believe that we are already in the month of May. This year has gone by so fast! My TBR just keeps growing and I know there are not enough hours in a day/month/year that I can tackle all of the books I want to read. Despite that growing list, I’m going to pick the 5 books that I’m most excited to see being released in May. These five will definitely be on my TBR and hopefully I’ll be able to crack open a page. #5 BOOK RELEASE This is the second outdoor adventure competition romance that I’ve seen coming out in May. They both look cute but this one edged out the other since it’s an adult contemporary. Looks like a fun and easy read and should be put in your carry on for the first beach vacation of the year. Synopsis: Orie Lennox has spent her entire life prepping for her happily ever after — and now that she’s graduated, she’s low-key wondering, when the heck is it gonna hit. Her love life, her new job, her relationship with her sister: none of it is quite what she envisioned it to be. One evening, on a whim, she applies for a reality show where she’ll be stranded on an island, with a bunch of strangers, to play a game of human chess for a shot at a million dollars. What better way to force herself to break up with the things that aren’t bringing her joy, than to abandon them all on short notice to live off the grid on a beach in the South Pacific! Orie’s shocked when she ends up cast in an experimental romantic edition of the show: and even more surprised to find that her old high school crush, Remy, has been cast as well. Orie’s one of ten contestants, set to compete in formidable challenges, while speed dating, in the wilderness: without deodorant, toilets, shaving cream, or showers. (How!?) She finds herself tied up — literally — in a game of risky alliances as she navigates ever-growing feelings for her one that got away, alongside an exciting array of budding new relationships. Click this link to purchase this book!* Attached at the Hip #4 BOOK RELEASE When Nora has one of her romantic suspense releases I want to immediately snatch it up. This one seems to be more sinister than normal. yeah! Synopsis: As they do each June, the Foxes have driven the winding roads of Appalachia to drop off their children for a two-week stay at their grandmother’s. Here, twelve-year-old Thea can run free and breathe in the smells of pine and fresh bread and Grammie’s handmade candles. But as her parents head back to suburban Virginia, they have no idea they’re about to cross paths with a ticking time bomb. Back in Kentucky, Thea and her grandmother Lucy both awaken from the same nightmare. And though the two have never discussed the special kind of sight they share, they know as soon as their tearful eyes meet that something terrible has happened. The kids will be staying with Grammie now in Redbud Hollow, and thanks to Thea’s vision, their parents’ killer will spend his life in supermax. Over time, Thea will make friends, build a career, find love. But that ability to see into minds and souls still lurks within her, and though Grammie calls it a gift, it feels more like a curse—because the inmate who shattered her childhood has the same ability. Thea can hear his twisted thoughts and witness his evil acts from miles away. He knows it, and hungers for vengeance. A long, silent battle will be waged between them—and eventually bring them face to face, and head to head… Click this link to purchase this book!* Mind Games *Amazon Associate- if you purchase one of these books through a link on this blog I’ll receive a small stipend. #3 BOOK RELEASE I have just recently discovered Elle Kennedy’s college hockey series. If you like your romance a bit raunchy and characters with a lot of heart, you need to reach for one of her books. She was recommended to me and I’ve gobbled them all up. Synopsis: Diana Dixon has a lot going on this summer. She’s rehearsing for a ballroom dance competition, juggling two jobs, and dealing with an ex-boyfriend who can’...

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#Bookish discussion #books #Commentary #contemporary #fiction #My 5 Most Anticipated May&039;24 Book Releases #reading #romance #young adult

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sluttypatrickstar · 1 year

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sad bitch journal

december 16, 2022

been thinking about chronicling my depression for a while, guess there's no time like the present to start. no idea what this will be like in the future and i'm not pressuring myself to Write Good for this bcus frankly. No ♥️

i have been chronically depressed for about as long as i can remember but it’s been particularly bad this year since i graduated uni. haven’t found a job and am also unsure of my ability to work so i volunteer at a charity bookshop to try and give myself something to do as well as build up experience. it’s p boring but i love books so i can forgive it. a lot of my shifts are pricing books and seeing if i can fit them onto the shelves (this can be a real battle). crime and thriller is the bane of my existence because they’re overflowing. there are so many crime/thriller books. Help

today i decided to rearrange the romance section because i noticed a lot of the books had been out for a while and hadn’t sold. you learn a lot about a genre when you’re shelving it. romance is a very colourful genre

pictured: a mills & boon rrp. i love whoever decided this

i also learned that it’s REALLY hard to tell the difference between romance and cosy women’s fiction because they both look very cosy and have colourful and sweet book spines

after my pretty low-key shift, i bought some books (a really cute book of poe poetry, i’ll be gone in the dark, and the life changing magic of tidying up because i am a Messy Bitch) and met my dad to go to ANOTHER bookshop where i had a click and collect to pick up

pictured: the good stuff. Books

often i feel really guilty for buying so many books at our shop when i don’t even have an income but i really liked all of today’s finds so it didn’t feel so bad. sometimes i buy books and just wonder what i was thinking

then we went to a bakery and i got a brownie and a cookie/brownie combo which i shall have later and UGH YOU GUYS THIS BROWNIE

unspeakable joy. delicious. yum. 10/10 cured my soul. so tasty. the world can be hard but it’s all worth it when i get to have some Baking

i headed home after a bit – my dad’s cat, who is going deaf and is very sweet and wants cuddles ALL THE TIME loves plastic bags so spent most of the time licking my bag – and the bus came quickly and got me home quickly. i’m used to bus delays and getting stuck in traffic so i liked that a lot. Zoom

if you’re outside of the uk, then here’s a little bit of context: our postal service, royal mail, is striking throughout december. this means that not only are strike dates affected, but mail is piling up and they have so much to deliver already this month because of christmas post. so there are ofc postal delays! and about 3 weeks ago i ordered a wee colouring book on etsy by an artist called lilmeep. i got their first colouring book for my birthday in the summer and loved it a lot and sent the friend who bought it updates and showed her all my finished pages. so i’ve been waiting for this second book to get here.

i knew there were going to be delays, but i started getting worried that maybe it got lost as it dragged into the 2 weeks since posting mark. i really wanted my new colouring book, i was so excited, when was it going to arrive? and earlier today, as we were into my third week of waiting, i wondered if i should shoot the artist a message next week letting them know that it hadn’t arrived yet jic it had been lost or smthin.

and i got home and went into my bedroom and

IT’S HERE IT’S SO CUTE I’M SO EXCITED AAAAAAAAA

so yeah. i was just reflecting on how even though my brain is a shitbag and things have been really hard and it’s fuckin COLD and SAD outside, i got to enjoy these moments of colour and joy today. sadness and tiredness still leak into my day, but i was able to find these moments to enjoy, to get all these things i had been looking forward to, to spend time with my dad and his silly little plastic bag loving cat ... joy exists, joy remains, you can still find it

#mental health #depression #journal #writing #writeblr #journal entry #sad bitch journal #my mum just came through and told me we're getting takeaway pizza LOVE IS REAL #idk who im even writing this journal for but it's w/e i want to try new things #and if they don't work they don't work and nothing ventured nothing gained

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simonxriley · 2 years

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FC5 OC Aesthetic

I was tagged by the wonderful @playstationmademe, thank you! 💜

I know this has made the rounds so I have no idea who to tag. If you haven’t done this for your FC5 OC and see this than you are tagged by me!

HOLLAND VALLEY.

red, gold, and orange leaves against a clear blue sky // rows of apple trees in an orchard // pick your own pumpkin patches // baskets of puppies // a sleeping fawn hidden away from predators // pumpkin spice // the bite of apple cider // a harvest festival // the faint smell of a bonfire on the wind // the slight unease of getting lost in a corn maze // a hint of fall in the air when it’s still warm // golden sunsets // leaves just beginning to turn from green to orange // the rumble of a tractor // the buzz of an airplane flying low overhead // golden wheat swaying in the wind // the smell of gasoline // sprawling river deltas // crystal clear water // an old wooden dresser // family heirlooms // jingling keys // crimson blood // dark ink on parchment // the sting of a bruise // the warmth of a grand fireplace // gunmetal // work boots in the mud // cattails // the harsh cry of crows // the faint musty smell of taxidermy animals // farm animals making a racket // open air farmers markets // catching your clothes on a barbed wire fence // a fresh breeze through an open window // white rocking chairs // old farmhouses // scarecrows // wild westerly winds // the barely contained excitement for the approach of autumn

WHITETAIL MOUNTAINS.

fishing at dawn // the smell of woodsmoke clinging to your clothes and hair // wolfsong // locking eyes with another predator // a night that falls faster than expected // the crisp hint of snow in the air // log cabins // the scent of evergreen trees // stone fireplaces // a well worn camouflage jacket // old field guide books // the smell of a cigarette still lingering on your hands // lager // the roar of whitewater rapids // cool dark caves // the rough wood of an antique gun // the scent of iron // woodland paths crisscrossed by gnarled tree roots // a haze of dust from a recent rockslide // losing your breath as you wade into an icy river // winding mountain roads // an eagle’s cry // the bright red flash of a foxes tail at the corner of your eye // the patter of rain on dead leaves // petrichor // seeing your breath in the cold morning air // the click of a projector // the jangling of a chain link fence // gunpowder // the sizzling of a grill // burnt hair // the grand lobby of a lodge // gravel crunching underfoot // the cry of blue jays // information boards // brochures piled on a table // cold metal bars // the sour smell of a lumber mill // the rough texture of scouting achievement badges // muffled oldies music from another room // sharpening a hunting knife // blood red leaves blooming from bone white birch trees // red bleeding into the edges of your vision

HENBANE RIVER.

cloying floral scents // the thick mist that gathers near the ground at dawn // dewdrops sparkling on spiderwebs // the almost too intense morning sun // unseasonable warmth // birdsong // honeyed wine // walking barefoot in the cool grass // the clanging of a jail cell door // spying hazy figures of animals in the fog // lemon balm and lavender // the low growl of a wildcat that you can’t see (but it sees you) // choking clouds of pollen settling on cars like snow // vineyards // faint humming and singing from an unidentifiable source // juniper berries // feeling uncomfortably hot in overly formal clothes // lace // burning incense // frogs in the reeds // soft brunette tresses // long winding rivers // mesmerizing music // glistening trout // the sweet nectar of honeysuckle flowers // rumbling of truck motors // glass beakers // bundles of dried flowers // wind chimes tinkling // rough concrete bricks // tumbling barrels // the ringing of a vintage phone // sweet words // broken promises // moonflower and datura // the smell of freshly cut grass // the faint sound of children laughing

JOSEPH’S COMPOUND.

babbling brooks // humming // whistling // dogs barking // grand oak trees // the faint sound of hymns // a crate of ripe peaches // melted wax candles // the smell of fresh newspaper clippings // caged birds singing // a warm embrace // wrought iron arches // flames reaching for the sky // gentle voices murmuring // your feet sliding in thick mud // pouring rain // vape smoke // the slight scent of sweat // ink on skin // the smell of wooden church pews // the rustle of hymnals // old book smell // slight hint of ozone from old electronics // bradford pear petals floating on the breeze

DUTCH’S ISLAND.

creaking metal hinges // the crackle of a radio // the scratch of an old record player // the smell of antiseptic // the flickering light of a projector // the feel of pushing pins into cork board // echoing footsteps // shelves stacked with canned food and mason jars // dark shadowy figures on the edge of your vision // gleaming metal badges // a table of bullet shell casings // vertigo from standing on swaying radio towers // the sound of shattering glass // whistling pipes // suffocating heat // the chatter of squirrels // faint scent of mothballs // the sputter of a boat engine // the high electronic whine of an old television turning on // the sound of distant gunfire // tear stained letters // old family photographs // the smell of a mildewy basement

#playstationmademe #deputy maci dalton

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obeymeoasis · 3 years

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Demon Bros React: MC Is Insecure

Warnings: mentions of insecurity surrounding body image, physical appearance, self-worth.

Lucifer

It was the day after a party Diavolo had thrown at his castle. You had had fun for the most part, dancing with the brothers and eating delicious foods prepared by Barbatos.

But you also remembered how it had felt to look around the room and realize you were surrounded by gorgeous demons, not a single flaw on anyone’s face. Doubt and insecurity had begun to creep into your mind, and that feeling had carried over into the next day.

You had only talked briefly with Lucifer at the party because he was too busy interacting with Diavolo’s guests. Every time you tried to catch his eye, you noticed how beautiful whoever he was talking to was and found yourself swallowing down your greeting.

Currently Lucifer was at his desk like always, scribbling down notes and shuffling through papers. You brought him afternoon tea and sat reading in one of his armchairs to keep him company.

You had been telling yourself that you were going to ask him the question that was burning in your mind, but an hour had already passed since you first came in. You tried to distract yourself with your book but the words were fuzzy on the page. Finally, you spoke. “Luci?”

He didn’t look up from his desk when he answered, “Yes, love?”

“Do you... do you ever wish I was more beautiful?”

The scratching of his pen stopped immediately and Lucifer lowered the papers he was holding to show his face, a carefully blank expression revealing nothing. “What exactly do you mean by that question?”

“I mean exactly what I asked. Do you ever wish I was more beautiful? More attractive? As the Avatar of Pride have you ever been... embarrassed to be seen with me?”

At this Lucifer’s expression grew cold and furious. “Has someone... made you feel this way? Has someone made you feel as if you are inadequate?” You shook your head sadly and whispered, “No, just my own brain.”

“Ah, I see. Well pet, I don’t ever wish you were more beautiful because you are the most beautiful being I’ve ever seen. So it would be physically impossible for you to be more beautiful than you are now.”

You snorted. “Luci, that was so cheesy. Your brothers would throw up if they heard what you just said.” Lucifer’s lips quirked up in amusement. “Well, I’m glad I was able to make you laugh. And I do mean what I said. I’ve never once felt embarrassed to be with you; you are my pride, the source of my happiness. If anyone were to suggest otherwise, I would gladly kill them.”

“Luci, we’ve been over this. You can’t just kill everyone who is mildly rude to me.”

Lucifer went back to working on his papers but there was a gentle smile on his face. “Darling, you’ll find that I definitely can. I have a permit.”

Mammon

You were regretting tagging along to one of Mammon’s photo shoots. At first, it seemed like a fun idea getting to look at all the clothes, makeup, and jewelry. Plus, you really wanted to see what Mammon was like when he was working professionally.

It was fun at first, you cooing over how handsome Mammon looked in his outfit and watching him get all flustered and blushy. But then the actual photoshoot started and you watched as Mammon posed with a stunning model.

You tried to not let your insecurities get the best of you. You were here to support Mammon! But as the shoot progressed you couldn’t help but start to compare yourself, keeping track of how they were more beautiful and you more flawed.

The photographer stopped to take a break and Mammon immediately bounced over to you. “MC, did you see me? How does it feel to watch the Great Mammon in his natural element? I look good, don’t I?”

You caressed Mammon’s cheek and feigned a bright smile. “You were amazing Mammon! You look so handsome. And this is such a cool outfit!” But Mammon was somehow always able to tell when you were faking a good mood and he frowned. “MC, is something wrong? You look sad. Did something happen?”

You opened your mouth, an excuse ready on your lips, but found you couldn’t lie right to Mammon’s face. You gestured toward the model who was talking to their manager in the corner. “Do you ever wish I looked like that?”

Mammon cocked his head, confused. “Do I ever wish you had blue hair? Not particularly? Although now that I think about it, blue hair would look cool on you too.”

You sighed. “No, I mean do you ever wish I looked like a model? Sexier? Or prettier?” Mammon thought for a moment, processing your question, and then frowned. “Oh no no no. Treasure, what’s this all about? What happened?”

“Sorry Mams, I didn’t want to distract you while you’re working. I just got really low and insecure all of a sudden. Started thinking about how you should be with someone really beautiful, you know? And sometimes I feel like that’s not me.”

Clearly upset, Mammon rushed to give you a crushing hug, tucking your head underneath his chin. “MC I- I wish I could beam my thoughts into your head. That way you’d really believe me when I say that you’re so precious to me. Every day I wake up and think about how lucky I am to be with you.”

You chuckled a little. “I do put up a lot with you, don’t I.” Mammon gently smacked you on your back. “Hey! I’ve been good lately! But seriously MC, you are stunning. You are gorgeous. And it’s okay if you don’t believe me right now because- because I’ll tell you as many times as you need me to! I’ll tell you a thousand times a day! A million times!”

You tried to blink away the tears in your eyes and held onto Mammon even tighter. “Thanks Mams, I love you so much.”

“Love you too treasure. Your first man’s gonna take care of you, don’t you worry about a thing.”

Leviathan

Usually you liked watching anime with Levi; it was one of your favorite things to do together. Levi was always more happy and lively when watching with you because he was able to express his opinions freely without judgment. And you thought it was adorable how excited Levi got over his favorite characters and storylines.

Today, you were snuggled together on some cushions re-watching an episode of “The Magical Ruri Hanai: Demon Girl”. At first you were enjoying the episode, laughing as Ruri got used to the oddities of the human world. But Levi’s repeated comments about how cute Ruri-chan was, which you usually never minded, started to bother you a bit.

You took a quick glance around the room, noting Levi’s enormous collection of Ruri-chan posters, figurines, and other merch. Levi tapped you on the knee, interrupting your thoughts. “MC, you’re missing the best part! What are you looking at?”

You sighed a little, struggling to act nonchalant. “Sorry Levi, it’s nothing. I’m still watching.” Frowning, Levi paused the episode and turned to look at you. “Hey, what’s up?”

Taking a deep breath, you said “Levi, I’m not Ruri-chan.” He narrowed his eyes in confusion. “Yes... I know?”

You continued, “I don’t look like Ruri-chan. Does that bother you?”

“Does it bother me... that you don’t look like an anime character?” He repeated the question slowly, as if you had asked him the strangest question in the world.

Frustrated, you blurted out “I don’t look like Ruri-chan! I’m never going to be as cute as her!”

Levi looked completely bewildered, his eyes wide and staring at you in confusion. “B-But you are cute! MC, w-what are you even talking about?”

Embarrassed at your outburst you looked down at the floor silently. Levi scooted over toward you so that your knees were touching and he waited until you broke the silence. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m good enough. I think maybe you’d like it if I looked cuter or acted cuter, like the characters in anime.”

Levi hesitated for a moment before quickly grabbing onto your hand, blushing furiously as he did so. "MC, I-I already think you're c-cute. Really really cute. So don't say things like that. And also, I like you because you're you! Not because you're like someone else."

"And you make me really happy. I'm just a gross otaku. I never thought I'd be able to... to find someone like you. Someone who accepts me."

He tried to lock eyes with you but blushed even harder and stared at your joined hands. "Plus, I couldn't to-touch an anime character. But I can touch you. I can hold your hand or give you hugs whenever you need it, o-okay?"

You leaned your head onto Levi's shoulder and closed your eyes, letting the peaceful silence wash over you.

Satan

You were accompanying Satan on a trip to one of his favorite stores: an antique shop that sold all manner of rare books and artifacts. The owner, Ms. Sparrow, was a friend of Satan’s and she welcomed the two of you wholeheartedly.

Today, she looked as gorgeous as she always did. Her chic pearl dress and matching silk gloves shone against her dark skin. Not a curl in her hair was out of place and even the click-clack of her heels on the floor seemed melodious somehow.

You left Satan to look at the books and went wandering off into the various aisles of the store, marveling at all the bits and bobs. In one of the over-stuffed corners you happened to find a glittering silver key on a red velvet ribbon. Taking it in your hand, you went back through to show it off to Satan, wanting to ask him what he thought it opened.

But Satan was busy chatting and laughing with Ms. Sparrow. You watched the two of them for a moment and noticed how well they complimented each other. Both had a certain poise, a kind of confidence and certainty in their movements.

On your walk back to the dorms, you were unusually quiet and Satan noticed. “Pet, is something the matter?”

You hesitated, wondering if Satan was going to find your insecurity childish. “Satan, I’m not very....elegant.”

“Yes, I know. You choked on a piece of bread yesterday. The day before that you tripped over absolutely nothing and fell down.” He smiled, expecting for you to get riled up, but it fell when he saw that you looked dejected. “Love, what is the matter? Have I upset you?”

You avoided his gaze. “Sometimes... sometimes I wonder if I bring you down by being with you. I feel like you deserve someone elegant and sophisticated. Someone who matches you. But I’m not. I’m clumsy and messy and not perfect, like Ms. Sparrow.”

Satan’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Ms. Sparrow? What does she have anything to with this?” He turned you around so that you were facing him. “Pet, please look at me. I love you. And I’m not with you in spite of you being clumsy or messy. I love you because you’re clumsy and messy, because those are parts of you and I love all of you.”

He leaned down to press his forehead against yours. “And why would I need someone perfect? Am I perfect? Yesterday you saw me screaming at my cup because I accidentally spilled some tea and burned my finger.”

You shrugged while giggling, “I thought it was a perfectly reasonable response.” You wrapped your arms around his and buried your face into his shoulder. “Thanks, Satan. You always know how to make me feel better.”

He reached down to give you a gentle kiss. “Anytime, love. I’m always here for you.”

Asmodeus

Asmo has a lot of fans across all his social media accounts. That was made perfectly clear the first time you went on a date with him outside. Sitting in the trendy coffeeshop, several people had come up to ask him for a picture or an autograph. He was never shy about you and always introduced you as his sweetheart, cooing about how beautiful you were.

Some days it was okay. You loved seeing the bubbly social-butterfly side of Asmo. He was always so sweet to everyone who came up to him and genuinely enjoyed meeting new people. But other days, your insecurity rose up like a huge wave and dampened everything.

This particular day you were shopping with Asmo in a new boutique that had opened up. You were aimlessly flicking through the racks of clothes when you heard a large squealing.

Two demons ran up to Asmo, talking and gesturing excitedly. You could make out that they followed him on Devilgram and were asking if he was willing to take a picture with them. These demons were some of the most attractive beings you had ever seen. Their clothes were incredibly stylish and their hair and makeup were done flawlessly.

Looking around the shop, in all of the full length mirrors you could see the reflection of Asmo and his beautiful fans. And you looked out of place, like a puzzle piece that didn’t fit in at all.

Tearing up, you grabbed a random pair of jeans off the rack and ran into a changing room. You turned away from the mirror, not wanting to look at yourself, and took deep breaths to try and keep from bursting into sobs. After a few moments Asmo began looking for you, having finished taking pictures. “Sweetheart, are you changing? Let me see what you’re wearing when you’re done!”

At the sound of his voice you burst into tears and your attempts to muffle the noise were futile. Outside the door, Asmo’s voice sounded panicked. “Darling, are you okay? What’s the matter? Please come outside, whatever it is please let me help you!” You hesitated, not wanting to face him, but this made him even more frantic. He started jiggling the doorknob and knocking on the door.

You opened it, afraid that he would accidentally break the doorknob leaving you trapped inside. As soon as he saw you he gathered you in his arms and began making shushing noises while smoothing your hair. “Sweetheart, why are you crying? Please talk to me, please tell me what’s wrong.”

You tried to get the words out in between sobs and hiccups. “A-Asmo, don’t you want someone m-more beautiful? Someone who-who looks g-good with you?” Asmo paused for a moment, processing your words, and then his eyes burned with anger. “Sweetheart, did one of my fans say something mean to you? Did someone make you feel like this?”

You shook your head vigorously. “No, just me.” Asmo breathed a sigh of relief at hearing no one had harrassed you and resumed smoothing your hair. “Oh, darling. You ARE beautiful. You’re stunning, sweetheart. I wish you could see the way I saw you, how adorable and gorgeous you are. And I understand that there are going to be days when you don’t believe me, when you feel like you’re not. But at least don’t go through those days alone, okay?”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak without tearing up again.

"Now, let's go get some ice cream. We can eat it while taking a bubble bath."

Beelzebub

You weren’t really sure why Beel liked you coming with him to the gym all the time, even if you didn’t exercise. He said your presence was calming and that it made him focus better, which was odd because a lot of the time you just sat on an unoccupied machine and scrolled through your D.D.D.

Today was much the same, with Beel running on the treadmill and you watching some videos. The gym was pretty empty, just a few students exercising here and there.

Your eyes drifted to Beel who was running without even breaking a sweat. His body was all solid muscle: his arms, legs, and abs looked perfectly chiseled and toned. Last week you accidentally ran into Beel in the hallway and it felt like you had smashed into a brick wall. Beel, on the other hand, was completely fine.

You began to wonder what Beel thought about your body. He could be pretty handsy at times and he wasn’t shy in his affections. But what if there was something he didn’t like? Something that he thought needed changing?

He’s never mentioned anything about exercising to you before. But you thought back to the students you had seen in this gym: all of them were extremely fit with incredible bodies. You couldn’t help but start to compare yourself to them and think that maybe you were lacking.

Just then, Beel finished his run and walked over to you. You weren’t sure what kind of facial expression you were making but it seemed enough to concern him because he asked, “MC, is everything okay?”

“Hey Beel... do you ever wish I had a nicer body?”

He squinted in confusion. “What do you mean by ‘a nicer body’?”

“I don’t know... just better. Whatever nicer looks like for you.”

Beel was quiet for a moment, thinking. “No, I've never wished for that before. I still don't know what you mean by 'nicer'. I love you. And I love your body because its yours. The only thing that matters to me is whether you’re happy. And as long as I'm still allowed to touch you, then I'm happy.”

He looked at you nervously then, biting his lip. "Am I... still allowed to touch you?"

You laughed and reached to give him a hug, loving how safe it felt in his arms. "Of course, big guy. Thanks for making me feel better. You always know what to say."

Beel flushed with pride and closed his eyes in happiness, leaning into your hand as you patted him on the head.

Belphegor

You knew you were dreaming because you were sitting in a R.A.D classroom surrounded by fellow students, but you couldn’t focus on any of their faces. They were blurry, as if someone had smudged them like an artist had smudged some charcoal.

You were at your desk, looking around the classroom, when as if on cue all of the students began to slowly gather around you. They stood there silently for a moment, unmoving, and you felt a shiver go up your spine.

And then one by one the students began to hurl insults at you.

“You’re not good enough. Not good enough for Belphegor.” “You’re ugly, you’re hideous. “You’re unwanted, go back to where you came from.” “You don’t deserve what you have, don’t deserve good.” “You’re weak.” “You ruin others, you ruin everything.”

As they insulted you the students began to draw themselves closer, pushing and shoving to reach you. They almost made a cover over your desk as if to block out all the light. You hunched over your desk, shaking and panicking, trying to curl up to protect yourself.

One of the demons began shaking your shoulder roughly, you yelping in pain. He began yelling in your ear, “Wake up! Wake up!”

“MC! Wake up!”

You startled awake and looked around the room in fear. You were in Belphie’s bed, your pajamas sticking to you with sweat. Belphie was looking at you with concern, one hand still on your shoulder.

“MC, you’re okay. It’s just me. It was just a nightmare.” You let out a sob and buried yourself in his arms while he patted you on the back until your breaths evened out.

“D-Did you see my dream?” you asked. You were nervous about showing Belphie that weak side of you, the insecurities that had been brewing since the two of you had begun a relationship. He looked apologetic. “I did. You were whimpering and shaking in your sleep. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

He reached over, one hand smoothing your hair, the fingers of his other hand interlaced with yours. “None of what they said was true, you know.” You looked down, embarrassed. “I mean it, MC. You are good enough. You’re beautiful, you’re wanted, you deserve all the nice and beautiful things in the world, you’re strong. And most importantly, you lift others up. You lift me up everyday.”

He lifted up your hand and pressed a kiss against it. “You lifted me out of darkness. I love you so much. And I’ll gladly stay by your side, for as long as you’ll have me.”

You grabbed the front of his sweater to draw him into a rough kiss, lips bruising. “Forever, Belphie. Forever.”

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yourmidnightlover · 3 years

Text

the nickname

Summary: reader convinced spencer to let her take the reins in the bedroom... or does she?

TW: oral (male recieving), fingering, mention of overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, riding, scratching, use of nicknames (princess, love, etc.), hints at sugar daddy!spencer, age gap (not specified but i’m thinking around 10-15 years). *let me know if i missed anything*

WC: 2,912

A/N: this hinted at sugar daddy!spencer (not really hinted so much as saying it outright). I also wrote this for @anxiousblanketqueen ‘s fic contest for her birthday! i believe it’s prompt number 21. i hope you enjoy :)

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you had been together for a while, now. maybe 13 months? you bet spencer could recall - more like knew he could.

you had met when you were one of his students. you're going to georgetown on an academic scholarship because no way in hell could you pay for the full tuition when you still couldn't afford it with the scholarships.

he took a liking to you - how could he not? you were a hard worker and proved yourself to be extremely determined. on top of the obvious intelligence, you had a beauty that radiated around you. and that beauty had a touch of... innocence. and maybe that innocent beauty is what initially attracted him to you, but he'd like to think it was just your personality as a whole.

you were never one of the students who would come to his office after hours for help you clearly didn't need. you would use your colored pens and highlighters to help organize your notes, so it took a while to pack everything up to leave.

one day, when there weren't any students lined up out his door, he went to your seat as you were cleaning up. you looked up, rather surprised that your inappropriate crush was standing right by you.

"uhm... hi," you smiled at him as you put your pencil pouch in your bag, breaking eye contact for the briefest of seconds before returning your attention back to him.

"hi. i was uhm..." he cleared his throat, "i was wondering if you had any questions? you never come to the office hours for questions and i was just... just making sure," he stuttered out.

"oh," you chuckled a light, airy laugh that spencer wished he had recorded so he could replay it over and over and over. "i don't have any questions. i guess that just means that you're a really good professor - very thorough," you stood up and flung the bag over your shoulder, still incredibly shorter than him.

"than-thank you," he smiled. "i'm happy to hear that you're actually getting something out of the lessons," you began walking out of the classroom, looking back to ensure that he was following you.

"yes, i truly do," you agreed. "i'm also pretty sure i'm one of the other people who isn't auditing the class," you added.

"correct, you are," he enthusiastically gestured, another laugh leaving your beautiful lips.

"i mean, you can't necessarily blame them for just taking the class," you chuckled as he held the door open for you, you gave him a subtle 'thank you.'

"what do you mean?" he asked in a soft tone.

"i mean you- you're..." you trailed off, gesturing to his entire body in hopes to convey what you meant. he just looked at you with a confused taste, letting you know you needed to elaborate. "you're very... attractive, professor reid."

"oh-that's very... thank you," he blushed as you halted by the bus stop.

"of course," you turned around, looking up to meet his eyes. "so... wait, what time is it?" you asked rather frantically.

"it's," he looked at his silver watch adorning his wrist, "6:27."

"shit," you swore for the first time in front of him, underneath your breath.

"wha-what is it?" he asked, perplexed as to why you would be so frustrated.

"the last bus leaves at 6:15 and i've missed it," you huffed out, trying to compose yourself before checking your bag and realizing, "i forgot my key and my roommate is at her girlfriend's house."

"is there anything i could do?" he asked concerned.

"no i can... i can just stay at the library. i should probably study up anyway," you tried to laugh it off although you knew it was pointless... he was a profiler for christ's sake.

"the library? y/n, this might seem a bit inappropriate but i have a spare room you could stay in until your roommate gets back," he offered kindly.

so, you took him up on his offer.

you slept in his spare room after he got you both takeout. you laughed and talked for what seemed like meer minutes but turned out to be until 1 a.m. you talked about string theory and the leonard euler's paradox. he gave you interesting facts about tortoises and achilles.

that little hangout session turned into countless hangouts over the span of three months. and then he asked you out on a real date once you finished at the top of his class - and not just because you were his favorite.

the first time with spencer was... beyond delightful. he was captivating with the way he worked against and for your body. it was almost as if he felt like his sole purpose on earth was to please you. he was eager, yet patient with the way his tongue flicked and sucked at your skin.

he was such a dominant personality in the bedroom, which was extremely appreciated since you didn't have much experience in that arena. but now that you were more versed in that world, you wanted to experiment a bit more.

casually, he began to pay for your things. it wasn't so head-on at first. it would be paying for your groceries, or buying all of your college books for you. but then it got a bit bigger. when your roommate couldn't give you the necessary half of the rent that was due and was beginning to be a nuisance, spencer quite literally let you move into his place. he would pay for your car's repairs and bought you jewelry consistently.

one time, as a joke, you called him your sugar daddy - mostly because that's how he acted. he just didn't like the term. he felt as though it made your relationship together seem one-sided when you were, in fact, very in love with the man. you came to realize it also made you seem like a gold digger, which you weren't - even though the money is a nice plus. so, you relented and didn't say that again.

spencer never really had much time off now that he was working back at the bau and traveling but now, you had him to yourself for a whole week. you had been planning this since he told you when he'd be off.

step 1: look sexy - you always looked sexy to him, but feeling sexy would also be a plus.

step 2: surprise him while looking sexy - absolutely devious.

step 3: seduce him - when doesn't he want you? exactly.

it was foolproof.

you had gotten the text 15 minutes ago that spencer was on his way back to his place, wanting you to meet him there once he had settled in. little did he know that you were in a sexy little white number - the white reminded him of your innocence which really got him going - lying in wait for him in a pair of heels. you sat in one of his reading chairs, deciding to pick up a book until he got home.

when you heard the jingling of keys coming from the other side of the door, you assumed your position. the chair was turned toward the door, you sitting pretty with one leg crossed over the other.

spencer walked through the door, hanging his coat and briefcase up before finally noticing you. his eyebrows shot up, looking your body up and down hungrily.

"wow," he smiled a wicked grin as he slowly made his way to where you were sitting. you stood up, heels clicking as they hit the floor and walked closer to him.

"i wanna try something," you placed your hands on his chest, pushing him back slightly until he was forced to sit down on the couch.

"and what would that be, princess?" he asked, hands stroking your hair that was cascading down your back.

"i..." you bent down to whisper in his ear, "i want to be in charge tonight," you placed a soft kiss below his earlobe, feeling his body shudder subtly at the proposition.

"are you sure you can handle that?" he chuckled, hands roaming to your waist and grinding your hips down on his.

you almost gave up. almost. you grasped his hands, placing them on the arm of the couch before getting close to his face. your lips were almost touching before you whispered, "no touching today, pretty boy."

you felt his hips rut up against your core, you chuckled at his eagerness. you decided to throw him a bone and ground down, hard, against his hips. the groan he let out was low and enticing, nearly enough to allow you to give him whatever he wanted.

"bedroom," you whispered against his neck before getting off of his lap, allowing him to scurry to the room. "take off your clothes while you're at it!" you giggled under your breath as you heard his clothes shuffling, telling you that he was obeying your request.

you waited a couple of minutes until you went into the room, wanting to have him go a bit insane like he normally did to you. when you walked in, he was laying on his back on the bed, just like you wanted. his cock was already red and leaky, prominent as it bounced on his tummy.

"good boy, spence," you giggled, walking over to him and straddling his legs.

once you were settled, you pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before trailing them down his torso, leaving the occasional hickey scattered on his chest. traveling kisses down his happy trail, you traced the vein on his dick and watched it twitch up and hit his stomach once again you giggled at the reaction.

"now i understand why you like so much responsiveness," you chuckled as you pressed a soft, barely-there kiss to the tip of his cock, he hissed once again from the contact.

you slowly took his cock in your mouth, agonizingly slow, and flattened your tongue at the base. one you got him as far down you could manage, you began bobbing your head just as slow. his hands flew to your hair, trying to force you to go faster until you swatted them away.

"should i tie those up?" you threatened, your hand working at his member as you spoke.

"are you fucking kidding me?" he swore, clearly agitated by your antics.

"no," you squeezed his dick for punctuation, the way he grunted made the wetness pool in your underwear. "i'm not kidding you."

you took him in your mouth once more, bobbing your head far more vigorously than before this time, just to spite him. hollowing your cheeks, you swallowed around him and began gagging around his dick before coming back up for air.

"fuck," he whispered underneath his breath, not wanting to let you know just how much of an effect you had on him.

you smiled to yourself and continued your antics until he was spilling all down your throat. you didn't stop there, you came back up and let your hand continue pumping his member slowly.

"shit," he hissed from the stimulation.

"shhh," you put your free finger up to his lips.

you gave his dick a few more strokes, curses leaving his lips delightfully before you drew your hands up his body once more before straddling his lap. after moving your panties to the side and slicking his cock with your arousal, you ground against him leisurely, trying to tease him a bit more. you unclasped your bra, throwing it somewhere in the room. finally, you reached between the two of you and lined him up with your entrance.

"are you sure you can do this?" spencer asked, not to entice you, but to make sure you were alright.

"there's a first for everything," you chuckled, knowing you had never been on top before.

you had never been on top before - you'd like to blame your lack of experience. you knew it might be hard to keep up the pace, but you were determined to make not only yourself but also make spencer feel good. that's all you've ever wanted. that's what you're meant to do - make him feel good. so no matter what it took, you'd make it happen.

you slowly lowered yourself onto his dick, being wary of how much bigger he felt from the new angle.

"shit," you whispered, your hands resting on his chest in attempt to ground yourself. "oh god..." you trailed off, feeling your dominant personality fade away as the pleasure overtook you.

"keep going, princess," he spurred you on, his hands finding your waist and rubbing gentle circles on your skin. "you've got it."

so you rose on your knees until only his tip was inside of you for you to lower yourself once more. you whimpered from the feeling of him re-entering your body, your pussy clenching around him as if he were an intruder.

"doing so good for me," he grasped your waist a bit tighter so he could help you rise and fall on his cock. "fuck, it's so good."

"d-doctor, i-" you stuttered, the persona nearly entirely gone and nowhere to be seen as he continued to move you up and down.

when you learn forward, your face hovering over spencer's chest, he took the opportunity to wrap his arms entirely around your waist. before you knew it, he was slamming his length into your pussy over and over and over and over again.

"oh! oh my god," you moaned, your voice reaching a higher octave as he drilled into your body in the most pleasurable way imaginable. "don't stop! don't stop! ple-please!" you screamed out, your hands wrapping around his torso and squeezing his body to ensure that he was there - present.

"i won't, princess. just let go. let go for me," he pressed a kiss to the top of your head so sweetly in contrast to how he was fucking you.

"i'm cumming! oh god, i'm cumming, spencer!" you cried out as you released the tension from inside of you.

only spencer wasn't done yet, so he took himself out of you, and he placed you on your back before reentering you. he moved in and out of you at a godly pace, trying to get himself to his climax before you would become too overwhelmed from the overstimulation.

"spen- spencer," you scratched at his back, surely leaving red marks for him to ogle once you were through. "i-i'm close," you sucked lightly at his earlobe before he moved his hand between the two of you, circling the little bundle of nerves at your crest.

"my little insatiable bunny, huh?" he smiled as you whimpered into his ear, nearing your second release. "loves my cock a bit too much, huh?"

"please! fuck!" you shouted out as you came on his dick, pulling at his hair. the clenching and fluttering of your pussy finally sending him over the edge, his hot release flooding your insides.

"fuck," he groaned into your ear as he carried the two of you through your releases. "good job, princess," he pressed a kiss to your neck as you stroked his hair, playing with it as you were still coming down.

"i'm sorry," you frowned once he pulled out, finally making eye contact as he lay down beside you.

"what for?" he asked incredulously.

"i just... i wanted to make you proud and i couldn't even finish without your help," you explained in a whiney manner, not allowing yourself to meet his beautiful eyes.

"hey," he grasped your chin to force you to make eye contact. "i love it when i have to help you reach that high. that's not something to be embarrassed or upset about."

"i know but i wanted to ride you and i couldn't even do that," you rolled your eyes.

"it takes time to get used to doing that," he chuckled. "and besides, riding someone on the bed is never a good way to begin. the couch is always better - that way you have the back of it to hold onto."

"really? so it's not that i'm just terrible at being a top?" your eyes widened with hope, he smiled at your eagerness.

"i think you could be a switch but it needs a bit of work, my love," he brushed your hair behind your ear before seeing your disappointed gaze and adding, "but i'll bet that with enough practice i could start calling you my little bunny, yea?"

"really?" you perked up at the proposition. "i want you to call me that."

"well then, i guess we better start practicing," he grinned before leaning in and giving you a sloppy kiss, his hands flying to your waist as he stood the both of you up to go to the couch.

needless to say, with spencer's guidance you were able to master the art of riding him. and you got that special little nickname, too.

taglist:

@averyhotchner

@greenprisca

@muffin-cup

@emilyprentisslittlewhore

@spenxerslut

if you’d like to be added to the taglist, please don’t hesitate to message me or leave a comment saying so!

#jtr23 #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #sugar daddy!spencer #spencer smut #spencer reid fluff #professor reid

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anonymousfiction211 · 3 years

Text

Hancuffed together Chapter 3: ‘Free’

Summary: Loki and you were hancuffed together, because the team was sick of the two fo you not getting along. Today they come finally back from a mission, setting you ‘free’ from Loki. Word count: 2.579 words

Warnings: Smut, dubious consent, knifeplay, praise A/N: I wrote another chapter, hope you like it. If you have any ideas, suggestions or comments, please let me know :)!

Click here for chatper 1 Click here for chapter 2

To say you were physically tired would be an understatement. Loki had you in a tight grip, still asleep. He had woken you two times that night to ‘play with you’ as he liked to put it. He was breaking you down. Each time you put up less of a fight and he was starting to push your boundaries. The truth is, you kind of loved what he was doing to your body. It was intense, even painful sometimes, but the pleasure was well worth it. His personality sadly hadn’t changed. He was still as arrogant, egotistic, moody, and snarky as he had always been.

You shook Loki awake, who just grumbled grumpily at you. ‘I’m hungry’ you said. He turned around to lay on his back, eyes still closed. ‘Sounds like a you-problem’ he replied. You sat up straight and tugged a few times at the cuffs. Loki sighed but got up with you. The two of you were eating breakfast in silence. Even tough you were fixing your eyes on your eggs, you felt Loki’s gaze boring into you. You were startled when the rest of the team loudly made their entrance. ‘Tony, you owe me 10 bucks’ Steve said. ‘Ho, ho, there is still time’ Tony replied. ‘So, how has the lovely couple been doing for the past two days?’ he mused. You both glared at Tony who put his hands up in defence ‘Let me rephrase, how are the two of you doing?’ he quickly said.

‘Fine’ you said irritated at Tony and Loki just nodded. ‘How was the mission?’ Loki asked. Natasha quickly explained that they were staking out and tracking some people of Hydra, but hadn’t had much luck. You were waiting impatiently until she was done. ‘So, can we take these off now?’ you asked holding up the cuffs. ‘Sure’ Steve said, motioning for Tony to take them off. ‘How do we know it worked?’ Thor asked them. Everyone looked at the two of you. ‘We’ve come to an understanding’ Loki replied for the both of you. A big smile appeared on Thor’s face ‘I say we keep them together for this day. To be sure they truly improved their behaviour’. If you could murder people by glaring at them, you had just murdered Thor. Before you could protest Loki had already agreed. If you disagreed know, they surely wouldn’t believe the two of you. ‘Can we just take them off for half an hour? So, I can take a shower?’ you asked. After the group had a quick discussion they agreed. But only if you and Loki would willingly put the cuffs back on after half an hour. If not, the two of you were on house arrest together for the rest of the month.

After you were free, even if it was for a short amount of time, you quickly walked to your room and locked the door. You got rid of your clothes and jumped into the shower. It felt good to have some alone time. After a while there was a knock on the door ‘You have 10 minutes left’ Tony said. ‘Just one more day, you can do this’ you whispered to yourself. You got out of the shower and dried yourself off. You walked back to the bedroom to get some clothes out of your closet. That’s when you saw a dark green bustier on the bed with a matching thong. There was a note next to it which elegantly spelled your name. You opened the note: See you in 10 minutes, kitten – L. There was no way you were wearing that. He could be such an asshole sometimes. You were wondering how he even got in here. You checked the door, but it was still locked. It donned on you that the both of you had your powers back. And this must be Loki’s passive aggressive way of telling you that he could go and come as he pleases.

You were absolutely furious at Loki. But two could play it this game. You got dressed and instead of the green lingerie you chose your red bra and thong. If things did get out of hand, and you had a feeling they will, he will be pissed at you for wearing his brother’s colours. After you got dressed you walked back to the living room, where Tony was already waiting with the cuffs. He had an amused smile on his face. Loki entered shortly after you, having a blank expression on his face. Tony cuffed the two of you back together and the rest of the team went about there day. You had to be honest, cuffed together with Loki was awkward at first, but now that the team was here it was a whole lot more uncomfortable.

The two of you settled down on the couch. You both were reading a book, but this time you both had different books and you were wearing more clothes than the last time Loki ‘wanted to read’. After a while Steve wanted to play a boardgame. At first you didn’t want to play, but Loki convinced you that it would be good to show the rest of the team you indeed got along. Thor and Clint joined you and you had to admit you had fun. Loki was friendly, relaxed and funny. You wondered why he wasn’t like that all the time or why you were the only person he didn’t treat like that. After dinner the whole team decided to watch a movie. You really wanted to go to bed, but would only do that once you were free.

You felt someone shaking your shoulder. You woke up and realized that you had fallen asleep during the movie. You blamed Loki for keeping you up all night. The most embarrassing thing is that you fell asleep on his shoulder. The rest of the team, except Tony, were already gone. Tony handed Loki the key and walked out of the living room. Loki grinned at you ‘Don’t for a second that when we’re not cuffed together that you’re free off me’. You sighed ‘Can’t we just leave these days for what they were?’ Loki seemed to ponder over the question, and while you were waiting for him to respond you realized, you didn’t know what response you wanted. You were holding your breath, waiting for him to answer you, which he took a long time doing. He uncuffed the two of you. You rubbed your wrist, it felt good to be free. Loki shot you a wicked grin ‘No, you are mine’

Your breath hitched and you got up, making your way back to your bedroom. To your surprise Loki wasn’t following you. You closed the door behind you, but knew he would be able to enter when he wanted to. You were startled when you heard a low voice right next to your ear ‘Going somewhere, kitten?’. You weren’t proud of it but shrieked a little. You were spun around and now facing Loki, who was towering over you with his dominant figure. ‘Or did you just forget what you agreed to yesterday?’ he purred. His eyes were sparkling full of mischief. ‘I- I said those things because you made me, I didn’t mean that’ you began to argue. ‘I think you did, you’re just too ashamed to admit it’ Loki said while smiling wickedly. You opened your mouth to tell him to get lost, but he grabbed you and slid his tongue inside of your mouth. You were getting lost in the kiss, the fight almost left you.

Then you realized you had your powers. You pushed him off you and immediately raised a shield around yourself. You thought Loki would be angry, but he seemed to be amused. A green fire bolt appeared in his hand and that’s when you realized, he also had his powers back. He shot the green bolt at you, making your shield crumble. ‘This isn’t fair’ you half yelled at him. He smile only widened, he knew it wasn’t. Your magical nature was healing, while his was that of a warrior. He was trained to fight, you were trained to help and aid. He grabbed you by your waist. You tried to form a magic bolt of your own, but when Loki bit down your neck, you lost your concentration and the bolt disappeared from your hands. He threw you down the bed. You tried to scramble away from him, but an invisible force tied your hands to the headboard. You were struggling against the invisible bonds, but they only tightened around you. ‘Stop struggling, kitten. You know you want this’ Loki sighed. ‘I don’t. Stop!’ you said to him. One of his eyebrows shot up ‘Really? You didn’t put up much of a fight’ he said. ‘I literally put a shield around me’ you argued. He just smirked at you ‘One of your weakest types of shields and you haven’t tried to paralyze me or anything. So, like I said you didn’t really fight me. We both know you want this’

With a wave of his hand Loki made all your regular clothes disappear, leaving you in nothing but your lingerie. Your red lingerie. You hadn’t seen anyone going from amused to furious so fast. The bonds on your hands tightened. Loki wasn’t saying anything to you, but his face made you absolutely terrified. You wanted to make him angry, but now that he was you felt like you made a dangerous mistake. In an instant Loki conjured up a knife and held it to your throat. ‘Looks like someone has been a very bad girl’ he growled in your ear. You started to panic, not daring to move an inch. ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry’ you whispered while fighting back tears. Loki was sliding the knife against the length of your throat. ‘If you’re so sorry, why do it in the first place?’ he asked you. You really wished Loki wasn’t the God of Lies right now. But since he was, you decided to just be honest. ‘I wanted to make you mad’ you said meekly. Loki laughed darkly ‘Well, you have succeeded’

‘I’m s- sorry’ you began to sob. ‘Since you’re new at this and you seem to understand the gravity of your mistake, I will let you off easy’ he purred. His hand grabbed your hair and he pulled hard, making you bare your throat to him. ‘But let me be clear, don’t let it happen again’ he said. ‘Yes’ you replied. He let go of your hair and you relaxed a bit. You felt the tip of the dagger against your throat, which made you tense up again. ‘Now, stay very still or this is going to be a very painful experience’ he commanded you. His blade travelled downwards over your chest, between your breasts. It slid effortlessly through your bra and your breast sprung free. You tried to keep your breathing even, but were startled at how sharp the knife actually was. Loki smirked when he saw your breasts and started to slide the knife around to play with them. Still extremely scared you couldn’t help that tears were running over your cheeks. When Loki looked up at you his expression changed, and you would almost say he was looking concerned.

With his other hand he strokes the tears from your face. ‘Sssh, there’s no need for that darling. You’re doing great so far. Just relax and trust me’ he told you with a soothing voice. Like it was the easiest thing to do right now. You did notice that the pressure of the knife slightly decreased. Loki was sliding the knife up and down your stomach, right above your panties. You took a deep breath and relaxed as much as you could. ‘That’s it, just submit to me’ he purred. Loki slowly cut through the sides of your panties. The sight was somehow quite erotic. The fabric fell from you and Loki withdrew the knife. ‘You did really well, kitten’ he praised you. Loki spread your legs further and placed himself in between them. The invisible bonds faltered, and you laid your hands on his chest. He gave you a smile, which you thought looked quite genuine.

He bent down to kiss you. It started out slow, but he got hungrier and started to kiss you faster. You enjoyed the way his lips felt on yours and how he tasted. You felt his hardened cock nudge at your entrance. You involuntarily bucked your hips, trying to get him inside of you. Loki chuckled darkly against your lips ‘I knew it’ he said in between his kisses. You felt him slowly pushing inside of you, making you moan very loud. Loki had left your mouth and was kissing you up and down your neck. You felt him smile against your skin when you moaned. He started to thrust in and out of you. He stopped kissing you and sat up straight. He was quick to put one of his legs over his shoulder, giving him a better angle. With every moan you made he thrusted faster inside of you. You heard him starting to mutter things under his breath, but you were too far gone to register what he was saying. His hand sought out your clit and you cried from pleasure when he started to stroke it lightly. ‘Please, Loki please make me cum’ you begged him. A little bit surprised that the words left your mouth before you could think about it. Loki seemed to be very pleased with your reaction and puts more pressure on your clit. He himself started to moan and you knew he was as close as you are. After a few more thrusts you walls clenched around his cock and you came hard. It triggered Loki’s own orgasm and you felt his seed spilled inside of you.

Loki pulled out of you and cleaned the both of you up with a hand gesture. That was an upside of Loki having his magic back you thought. He shimmered himself a pair of pyjama pants and laid down in your bed. You just stared at him ‘You’re staying?’ you asked him. He laid on his back, a hand behind his head, looking up at you. ‘Of course, I am’ he said, like you were stupid to even think otherwise. ‘I do suggest you wear something tonight, or you won’t be getting any sleep’ he purred. Not really sure how to get him out of your bed, you decided to let him sleep in your bed for this one time. You grabbed your own pyjama from underneath your pillow. It existed of a pair of black shorts and a red top. You were staring at the top and back at Loki. He was having an amused look on his face, wondering what you were going to do. After you put on the shorts you still were holding the red top. Loki cocked an eyebrow, giving you a ‘really?’-look. When you saw it you quickly threw the top on the ground and got under the blankets with him. He pulled you close so your head was on his chest. ‘Good girl’ he whispered. You snuggled closer to him when he said that, hearing him chuckle. He started to stroke your back and play with your hair, making you fall asleep fast.

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wri0thesley · 3 years

Text

ahem here is a self indulgent domestic nanami x reader fanfiction that i also posted on ao3. u can tell i wrote it bc i looked at nanami and said ‘that’s a man that wears sock garters and that’s very sexy of him’

routine // 3k words // nanami x reader warnings: afab reader, fem pronoun, domestic stuff, nsfw, fingering, creampie, idk pals i’m just thirsty

You don’t mind the mundane.

No, that’s not quite it. It’s not that you don’t mind the mundane – you do, when it becomes sticky and muddled and drags on and on and on. You’ve been trapped in an endless cycle like that before; allowing life to happen to you, as trade-off for simplicity. Planning things that didn’t materialise. You hadn’t realised that’s what you were doing, at the time – but looking back on it now, it’s clear as day, because it was exactly what had been happening to him.

Your life is not mundane. Your life is . . . routine.

Yes, that’s right. You stick to a schedule. You keep time. You plan things – and it’s not mundane, not any more, because this time as you stick to your routine, Nanami is right there beside you.

It’s domestic. Comfortable. Oh, you worry about him – he comes home enough times with scrapes and bruises he didn’t have before and tells you about his day, world-weary – but you also know he’s more than strong enough to withstand. You curl up next to him whilst he reads a book, or whilst you watch television. You cook for him on the few days off that he snatches for himself (though he often wraps himself around you whilst you do cook, directing you or helping. He’s a better cook than you, but you have more time than him). You drape yourself over the back of his armchair sometimes and work on the knots in his neck.

“You get too stressed,” you tell him. His lips quirk into a brief curve of a smile before they return to their usual position.

“Maybe,” he says. “But you help me with that.”

For all of the unusual things in your lives, your existence is uncomplicated. You watch weight roll off of him when he comes in through the front door and is once more safely ensconced in a little slice of home. You and he share the household duties; he’s meticulous and careful, and you admire him sometimes when you think he’s not watching for being so . . . balanced, you suppose.

(“That’s you, too,” he tells you. He shrugs. “Everyone else . . . they’re living absolute chaos. But I get to come back after I clock off, to you, and . . . this.” He gestures to the little home. It’s nothing special. It’s neat and tidy and small and the two of you have reasonable savings in the bank. Responsible. You think he keeps you balanced, too.)

But . . .

Well. He’s not always so in-control.

He hadn’t sounded harried when he’d called you. He doesn’t often; instead, his voice had been calm. You know Nanami well enough to know when there’s frustration bubbling under the surface, but his tone had been smooth.

“I’ll be home late,” he’d said. “Don’t wait up.”

“Overtime?” You’d asked, already looking at the pot boiling on the stove and wondering if it could be salvaged for tomorrow’s dinner. Nanami had paused, and then sighed.

“Mm.”

You don’t let yourself worry too much. Nanami handles whatever is thrown at him – he’s always in control, poised. . . The most you see him frustrated is from calls from Gojo in the middle of the night.

You put your own phone away. There’s no use in concern yet, you tell yourself.

You don’t start to worry until you crawl into bed without having heard from him. This is late, even for him. You try not to let your anxiety eat away at you as you close your eyes and lay your head on the pillow, but the scent of him permeates every part of your bedroom. One of his shirts hangs loosely on the back of the wardrobe door. The drawer on his side of the bed that contains a collection of novelty ties (bought by you, because you’d thought they were funny – and Nanami had smiled at the first one, and laughed at the second, so you just hadn’t stopped) is still half-open from him rifling through it this morning.

The click of a key in the front door makes you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. The sound of footsteps on the wooden floorboards, a familiar, steady cadence, makes you let go of sheets you hadn’t realised you were clutching.

Nanami’s head rounds the door.

“You’re late,” you tell him.

“I am,” he affirms. He steps into the room proper and you see that his shirt-sleeves are rolled up, and there’s a splash of blood on his left shoulder. He probably was in more bother than he let on, then. You don’t think it’s his blood, at least. He sighs. “I’m sorry. I don’t like it any more than you do.”

You sag. You know it’s part and parcel of what he does – and so, you move in the bed from where you’ve unconsciously pressed yourself into his side to breathe in the familiar scent of him. You know Nanami doesn’t miss you’ve done it – he comes to sit on the edge of the bed as he meticulously undoes his tie.

He reaches over to you and cups your cheek in his hand, his fingers warm and calloused.

“How about I make it up to you?” He asks, and you sigh as he breaches the gap and kisses you. Everything about his kiss is familiar and comforting – you’re pressing back against him before you even think about it, hand coming to tangle in the neatly combed hair. He tastes like coffee, and it makes your eyes open against the kiss and check the time. It’s late. Nanami generally prefers to be sleeping by now. You'd once laughed and told him he was boring, and he'd raised his eyebrows and smiled as he'd told you that sleep was important. After spending the night wrapped around him, your head on his chest, listening to the beat of his heart - you'd been inclined to agree.

“Aren’t you tired?” You murmur, breaking the kiss yourself. Nanami quirks an eyebrow at you. The hand still on your face brushes across your cheekbone tenderly. You don’t think anyone who works with Nanami imagines him like this – messy-haired, half-undressed, his stoic composure gone to softness. Every time he even half-smiles, your heart feels like it will ricochet out of his rib-cage, but when he looks at you now you get the full thing.

“Too tired for you? Never.” He shifts on the bed, shrugging off his suspenders along with the stained shirt. He’ll do that laundry himself – he always does, when it’s bloodstains. “Besides,” he breathes as his hands move to stroke over your shoulders, his breath tickling the junction where your neck and collarbone meet and making you shiver. “I still have plenty of energy to work off before I can get to sleep peacefully.”

“Well,” you swallow. “I’d hate to be the reason you don’t get a fulfilling night’s rest—”

The bed covers are swept off of you. When Nanami has made up his mind to do something, he does it – and right now, it appears what he’s made up his mind to do is you. His hands are big on your hips, sliding up the loose shirt of your pyjamas. You let out a soft huff of breath as he pushes them up over your breasts that makes him lean in and kiss your neck, his teeth scraping the sensitive flesh. Your fingers flex on his shoulders as he cages you underneath him.

“Oh,” he promises against the skin. “When we’re done, I’ll rest very easy.”

You lose the shirt just as quickly as Nanami lost his, and then you both stop talking. Nanami is the kind of man who doesn’t use a hundred words when one or two will do – he’s happy to have conversations, when conversation is the name of the game . . . but conversation is not the name of the game when his mouth is busy kissing your neck, your throat, your collarbone . . . When his lips are wrapping around your nipple and teasing it to a hardened point until you moan aloud.

In the pit of your stomach is heat and fire and need. When Nanami moves against you and your thighs press together, you can already feel that you’re slick and warm with the promise of what is still to come – and when Nanami, too, moves, you can tell that he’s looking forward to things just as much as you are.

His thumbs hook into the shorts of the nightwear set you were wearing. The fear of less than an hour ago seems to have dissipated in the wind – it’s hard to remember how worried you were when Nanami comes home fired up like this. He drags the fabric down your thighs, tsk-ing at how they catch.

“A nightgown or shirt would be more efficient,” he tells you. “You’re welcome to one of mine.”

Your cheeks heat up at the idea of sleeping in one of his shirts, and Nanami doesn’t miss how your skin warms underneath him. You’re so cute. He kisses you again so he doesn’t embarrass himself, this time peeling off your underwear (the thin cotton clings to your damp sex and your breath hitches at how it feels, peeling away).

“Are you going to tell me it’d be more efficient if I weren’t wearing them?” You say, your voice coming out low and husky.

“I’d be right if I did,” he tells you, but he’s far more preoccupied with the button and zip of his trousers. You reach over to help him with it, your hand brushing the hot, hard length of him through the fabric – you always forget just how big he is until you’re confronted once more. Your body gives a low throb of arousal, a reminder that the need inside of you requires sating sooner rather than later.

Nanami is patient. You are not.

There. The zip, the button – and Nanami is pulling off the fabric, leaving it too in a pool by the side of the bed that you know he will probably manage to get into the wash basket before it ever crosses your mind. He’s still wearing socks and sock garters, and whilst normally you’d laugh at him and make him take them off before he got into bed . . .

Well. There are more important things to think about right now, and you can’t deny that the sock garters are endearing.

His cock brushes against your thigh and you start, a soft noise escaping your lips that makes him look down at you tenderly. He tips his head to the side in a silent question and you nod in a silent answer – his fingers push your thighs further apart, sinking into plush flesh, stroking along the slick outer lips of your sex--

His knuckle brushes the swollen bundle of nerves of your clit and you sigh, your hips bucking up for more of the friction. You know that this is just him being kind – a precursor to the main event – but you still can’t help but greedily seek out more and more of him. He clicks his tongue again.

“You’re so impatient sometimes,” he chides, though his cock hard and hot against your skin is just as impatient as you are. He slides one of his fingers inside you, your walls clinging tight to the digit. He pumps it in and out of you, once, twice – and then, a second finger is inside you, stretching you out. One of your hands twists into the sheets as you helplessly let him fuck into you with his fingers. You know that he’s doing it in preparation for fucking you – he often does – but it doesn’t mean that you’re any less impatient for the main event.

“You’re teasing me,” you tell him, breathlessly. He smiles, more to himself than to you.

“I suppose so,” he replies. He’s enjoying it. You know he is – tension is draining from his shoulders the more he looks at you, the fingers still plunging in and out of you growing more lax and liquid in their movements. The sound of him inside you is lasciviously loud in your bedroom. You don’t mind helping him work out his tension – whether with cuddling up to him, or cooking together, or massaging the knots from his back – but you do mind when he teases you--

“Please,” you say, breathlessly, your hips rocking in time with his hand. He can never resist it when you’re polite.

His fingers come out of you with an audible slick noise.

“You’re ready, anyway,” he murmurs. He absent-mindedly places the two fingers that were buried inside you against his tongue, tasting you – your cheeks are hot again at the way he tips his head back, savouring the taste of you. Just another little moment of intimacy. It’s not unusual, but that doesn’t make it feel any less erotic.

He cradles you like you’re something precious as he settles heavy between your thighs. His hands on your hips are certain. There’s a warmth about Nanami that few people are privileged enough to see – one you’re privileged enough to see every night and every morning, when he wakes up next to you sleep-tousled or comes in and leaves a warm package from your favourite bakery in front of you that he picked up on his way home.

You breath through the initial sting as he stretches you out on him, and then there is nothing but the pleasure of being filled. You feel yourself mould to his cock inside you, your walls snugly accepting him, hot and wet around his shaft. Your arms wrap around his shoulders and as he bottoms out inside of you, for a moment you two are joined entirely. You can feel his heart beating against yours.

“I love you,” you breathe, against the shell of his ear. He kisses at your neck in return, his voice very soft as he returns the affirmation of one of his own. He is not one for sappy declarations – he is a man of small acts of service. Still. He speaks it against your skin and it feels like a tattoo on your heart.

“I love you too.”

After that, neither of you speak. Instead, you concentrate on Nanami’s powerful hips as they roll against you, his cock brushing the sensitive spots of your wall, stoking the flame inside of you that’s been steadily burning since the moment he untied his tie. You concentrate on moving your own body in tandem with his, the squeeze of your channel around him, the way that he grinds himself just so against your clit with every thrust so that your body feels fizzing with unreleased promise.

His mouth against your collarbones and neck. Your nails digging into his shoulders. He’s well-built despite seeming nondescript in his suit and tie – you’re heart-achingly familiar with the taut muscle making up his arms and backs. The places he’s scarred, even after being healed up.

You can hear him breathing heavier and heavier against your ear as his peak nears. Your own is rushing up on you, as Nanami’s hips begin to rock quicker and quicker, his cock plunging impossibly deep into you with every drive. You think, for a wild moment, he’s going to come first, despite the fact he’s always been nothing but the gentleman in control of himself no matter how many times the two of you become one--

And then, the hot ball of fire in the pit of your stomach becomes overwhelming and bursts into pieces, wet heat soaking you, waves of pleasure lapping at you as your body shakes and constricts around him. Everything is so hot. His body above yours is burning, warm, needful--

Your nails have dug into his skin hard enough to leave crescent shaped marks, but Nanami is chasing his own release now, his eyes clouded with lust as he looks down at you. Aftershocks of your own orgasm make your channel pulsate around him--

You’re tender as you pull him down by the neck and kiss him, teeth worrying at his bottom lip – and he groans into your mouth at the same time as you feel his cock inside you twitch, and the heat of his come fill you. That’s not a problem. You’ve talked about that plenty of times – both of you agree that you’re happy the way you are. Children are dangerous.

. . . But it’s nice to feel claimed by him. Nice to have him rest hot and heavy inside you, like a marker of his affection even as he’s pulling out of you and leaving you full and heavy and sticky. He smooths kisses onto your brow. He doesn’t murmur sweet words against you, but you know he’s thinking them if only from the way he holds you and the way that his hands dance over your skin like you’re the most precious thing in the world to him.

(You are; and he is to you, though neither of you say it aloud. In the sanctity of the quiet bedroom, though, both of you know it as an absolute fact.)

He’s breathing heavy as he sits on the edge of the bed again, reaching down to undo his sock garters and remove the socks themselves. The tell-tale rustle of clothing and slam of the drawers on his side of the bed tell you he’s neatly folding the dirtied garments and getting out something to wear in bed himself.

“Are you tired now?” You ask him. Nanami turns his head to look at you, and you can see the tell-tale sign of shadows under his eyes.

“Yes,” he says. You laugh, and the sound seems like pealing bells to him. You wrap an arm about his waist and pull him against the bedsheets, curling a leg over his, wrapping yourself around him in an embrace that he at first resists before leaning into.

“It’s easier if you don’t get dressed.” You mumble against his neck, as you nestle yourself into the crook of his shoulders. Nanami uses one arm to pull up the bed covers he stripped from you earlier. “More . . .” You stifle your own yawn. “More efficient, if we decide to waste time in the morning.”

The covers wrap around both of you, the wrinkled clothes forgotten (Nanami will tut at himself in the morning, but for now, he’s enjoying your body so close to his).

“Time with you,” he says softly, “is never wasted time.”

#writing #not jojo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #nanami x reader #not sfw #i am not a multi fandom blog.... YET!!!!#jjk posting #jjk writing tag

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baecvlt · 3 years

Note

Oh my gosh! I love Kazuichi!!

Can I request a Kazuichi x female reader where she's a quiet nerd who spends a lot of time studying so she doesn't really have many friends but one day she's extremely stressed out for an exam and she asks Kaz straight up "Fuck me like an animal" just to relieve the tension.

(so kinda rough, feral, lots of dirty talk from Kaz if that's possible please ❤️)

Kazuichi x Quiet Reader

a/n: i love this idea sm i will be projecting onto this

“Hey, thanks for helping me study, it means a lot, really”

“Of course. What are friends for?”

There was a pause as you picked up your pen and began writing in your notepad. “Hey, me and the boys are gonna go out Friday night and they’re all bringing their girlfriends”

You finished jotting down a note in your notepad, clicking your pen. “Yeah? Sounds like fun”. Then, another pause. “So I was kinda wondering if you wanted to come with me, y’know so I don’t look like a complete and fucking loner”. You sighed softly, running your hand through your hair. “I’ll think about it,” you answered, only for Kazuichi Soda (your college friend) to call your bluff. “But that’s what you always say, I’d prefer you say ‘no’ straight up!”. He was right, but that wasn’t gonna change your mind.

“You know I don’t do well around people, you’re one of the only few people I feel comfortable around. I’m sorry”

He shook his head. “No, don’t be. I’ll figure it out, thanks anyway”.

He walked away, not looking back. Part of you felt bad, but you didn’t want to put yourself in this situation where you had to endure being around people you had no business being around. It’s not that you don’t like them, but you never seemed to click. You packed your things an hour later, deciding that regardless of the fact you didn’t do enough, it was getting late and you were sleepy. Upon leaving the library, you noticed Kazuichi was still outside, now by his truck (that used to belong to his uncle because that’s totally worth noting). He waved at you, you waved back and approached him.

“What are you still doing here? Thought you had to be home?”

“I don’t live there no more. I’m rooming with Hajime!”

“That’s great, but why are you still here?”

“I came to take you home!”

You raised a brow, he hardly does that. Why now? Especially, why after you denied accompanying him? “You look so sleepy,” he said softly,“It’d make things easier on ya”. You smiled, rolling your eyes. “Alright,” you said. He became giddy, taking tiny, but quick steps to you door. He opened it for you, then got to the driver’s seat. Now, you were off.

He played soft classic rock on the radio, volume low. He was right, you were sleepy. You leaned your head against the window, looking out of it: the sun was setting and the closer you got home, the darker it became. Finally, the sun was down, stars in the night sky. Then, you didn’t remember much else. Blackout.

“Hey, princess—”

You felt cold against your cheek, wincing a little. The cold turned warm, as your eyes fluttered open. The blur cleared and there was Kazuichi. “You must’ve really been sleepy, huh?,” he teased,“Well, we’re here now”. You looked around, seeing the familiar parking lot of your apartment complex. “How long was I out?,” you asked, still familiarizing yourself with your surroundings. “Maybe ten minutes,” he said,“I think I’m gonna take you home from now on. Pretty long walk, don’t cha think?”.

“I don’t get paid well, I don’t want to burden you on gas money—”

“It’s no burden. It’d be so cool to take my favorite chick home”

You blushed, smiling softly. “Let me walk you up, yeah?,” he asked, getting off the car. He wasn’t about to take ‘no’ for an answer. It was dark, anything could happen going up. I mean, it’s not like Kazuichi has that much fight in him (worst case scenario), but hey, it’s the thought that counts. He took you up the 3 flights of stairs as you told him about your studious day of reading books, taking notes, citing sources—boring shit. All he could do was grin and say,“Damnit, you’re so smart”. You shook your head, snickering.

“Shut up”

“No, seriously. You could be a doctor or lawyer if you wanted to. Something smart, ya know?”

“I guess”

You stopped, letting him know this was your door. “Nice”. You grabbed your key, opening the door slowly. “Alright, well, thanks,” you smiled,“It means a lot that you’re offering to take me, y’know. It gets dark and stuff and I’m always so tired so that just means a lot—”. As you ranted, he wasn’t smiling anymore. His eyes, they just remained fixated on your lips, but you couldn’t have known. You were in your own little world.

“—and don’t worry! I’ll find a way to repay you. I can’t let you do this completely free, even if we are friends, because that’s what we are right? Hey, are you even liste-”

Suddenly, he raised his hands to both sides of your jaw, pulling you in and kissing you. He pulled away, still close to your lips as he whispered,“I’ve always wanted this”. His hands remained on your face, now caressing your cheeks. “I know I’m not that kind of guy that can be smooth and pick up girls, but you’re so sweet to me. I’d do anything for you,” he whispered still,“And you work so hard, you’re so amazing...I just want to make you feel so good”. Just as you were about to speak, his thumb pressed gently against your lips.

“Don’t say anything, Just...if you ever need me, Imma be here”

“Yeah and do what?”

“Leave you shaking a little”

He walked away, leaving you almost on your knees. Almost. “Goodnight, princess,” he said. You said ‘goodnight’, now running back into your house. You nearly squealed and your face burned as you held a pillow. Why did he do that? Why to you? Was he okay?

That didn’t matter. You weren’t upset about it either.

The next day, you walked outside pf your complex, seeing him outside. “Hey, you!,” he said running up to you,“I’m so sorry about yesterday. I don’t know what got into me and—”. You shrugged his apology off. “Don’t even worry about it,” you said,“it’s all good”. He smiled, opening the door for you.

Kazuichi and you decided he would be taking you to school and home, so that was a great thing that happened today. Last night’s incident wasn’t discussed, although you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Later that day, you found yourself still studying and studying for that test. When Kazuichi, came to you to study, you seemed a little aggravated. “Hey, I’m here for our hour together,” he said. “Okay, just sit down and let me know if you need anything,” you told him. He noticed your tone, it was irritated and tired. As he opened his book and took some noted down, he look at you. You had very noticeable tics (hard blinking) and your hands kept rubbing your temples. It wasn’t until he heard you sigh that he asked,“Hey, are you doing okay?”.

“Yeah, I’m just...—”

You were terribly stressed, you knew that. You looked him up and down,“I need to get something in the archives”. You left him there, but all he could do was follow you. Once there, you saw him head inside,“I don’t like seeing you like this. I think I should take you—”. You closed the door as he spoke, dropping to your knees in front of him. “H-Hey, what are you?-”.

“I’m so stressed, Kaz”

His bulge grew in his jeans, just to see you like that made him hard. You took your right hand, softly palming his growing erection. “Oh— fuck, I~,” he sputtered. “Fuck me like an animal, Kaz,” you whined softly,“Make me feel good”. You pushed him back onto the nearby table where he sat, but propped himself up. He unzipped his jeans and pulled his cock out. He stroked himself a little with one hand as he told told you to “come here” with the other. You got got closer to him, but he didn’t give you time. He sprung out of his seat and got on his knees. He pulled down your skirt and panties, making you squeak. Grabbing your hips, he pushed you back and made you land on the table. As soon as your bare skin touched the cool table, he used his mouth on your dripping cunt. “Ngh!~ Kaz, no! S-Stop,” you whined.

“Mmm, but you taste so sweet”

His hands reached up to rub your trembling thighs as you gripped his hair. “Such a pretty pussy,” he whispered,”so wet too”. His tongue moved from your clit, bow thrusting inside you. His tongue was long, sometimes when you’d hang out, you wondered how it’d feel to have him eat you out, always cursing yourself for it, but bow he was here, tongue fucking your pussy and thrusting it in and out of you. “Kaz...”.

You were wet and close to cumming as he pulled out his tongue, simply placing kisses along your pussy. “So pretty,” he muttered, thumbing your clit. He got up, positioning himself between your legs. He rubbed his cock between your folds. You groaned, feeling his cock play with your warmth. “How do you want this?,” he asked. “This is okay, just please I need you inside me”. He snickered, ramming his cock right into you. You gasped as he kept his pace fast, stroked rhythmic. His tight and painful grip on your hips stopped hurting, your skin easing into his touch. He wasn’t just holding them, though. He was pulling you by them, making sure his cock ruined your insides. “I’m gonna rip you in half,” he spat, tearing your button-up open. You had subconsciously planned this, that’s for sure. You just realized you wore this bra that hooked from the front. “Tits...”, he mumbled, unclipping the front. Your bra burst open, your breasts having some recoil from his thrusts. “God, your face, your fucking face,” he groaned,“When I look at you, I just want to stuff my cock, deeper and deeper in you”. Each time he said ‘deeper’, he thrust hard with his hand on your throat. It was easy to see how little experience he had, he wanted to try everything all at once. You weren’t complaining because everything he was doing just fucking worked. Your eyes rolled back as you covered your mouth to muffle your moans. He took your hand off, but now you were noticing how flushed his face was. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” he grunted, cumming inside you,“I can’t stop, I’m still so fucking hard”.

“Don’t stop, Kaz”

He leaned forward, kissing you softly. You whined against his mouth as you felt his cold hands pinching and rubbing your nipples just right, keeping you in this deep state of arousal. He tried keeping his composure as his only goal now was to make you cum. Watching you cum is something he’s always wanted. Now you’re here, in the backrooms of the school library with him, your cunt sloppy on his cock. “Oh, g-god, you’re so pretty,” he choked out,“Y-Your face remains...angelic as I ruin your— Ah!”. He trailed a butterfly kiss from your lips to your jaw to your neck as he life your leg up, wrecking your uterus at this point. “Ah!~ T-Too deep, too deep!,” you cried. “I know,” he whispered. You felt your orgasm rattle through your body, but before you could cum, you wrapped his legs around you. “H-Hey!-”. You had gotten the best of him.

“Fuck, I-I’m cumming!”

You came along his cock nicely, your spreading warmth making him ejaculate once more inside you. He pulled out slow, watching his cum drip from your hole. Once he got a view of that, he collapsed onto your chest. He pecked your jaw a little, nuzzling you after. “I came too quick, didnt I?,” he asked, insecure about his sexual performance. “No, you went long enough,” your reassured him,“Christ, my legs feel so funny”. He was now concerned.

“Did I hurt you?”

“You were a little too rough”

“I-I’m sorry. I guess I got a little carried away. You’re just so fucking hot”

You kissed him, hoping it’d shut him up. “Don’t say that..just, com on. Help me get dressed”.

He helped you but your panties and skirt back on, handing you his jacket to deal with the ripped shirt issue. He was being cute and slipped your flats back onto your feet. Quickly, you grabbed your school bags from outside and left the library. He took you home, his hand on your thigh the entire way back. You didn’t hate it, though. In fact, when he took it off and apologized for it, you put it back. He smiled, eyes back on the road.

He took you upstairs, this time you decided to invite him in. Now, you were both in bed. He lay on your stomach, caressing your thigh. He suddenly gasped, with a hand on your stomach. “I felt a kick!,” he joked. You rolled your eyes, hitting him with a nearby plush. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you the pill tomorrow,” he assured. “I should shower,” you noted,“You wanna join?”. He became flustered, giving you a look as to ask if you were serious. “Uh, yeah,” he muttered.

“Not right now, though. I’m still a little tired”

“About that, did it help at all with the stress?”

“Sure did”

He smiled, becoming shy,“I didn’t think we’d ever...y’know..”. You kissed him all over his face, making him smile. “Hey, I kinda decided,” you began,“I decided I’ll go with you. As your girlfriend”. He looked at you wide eyed. “Really?!”.

“Yeah”

“I love you— no, wait, I’m sorry-”

“You are so cute”

He blushed, muttering,“Let’s just go take that shower”.

#danganronpa #danganronpa goodbye despair #fanfic #send asks #send requests #smut #kazuichi x reader smut #kazuichi smut #kazuichi imagine #kazuichi headcanons #kazuichi x reader #kazuichi souda x reader #kazuichi soda x reader #kazuichi #kazuichi danganronpa #kazuichi soda

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outofsstyles · 3 years

Text

a/n: This is by far THE MOST requested fic I’ve ever had and (a year later) it’s finally here!! First of all, sorry that it took me so long but when I first wrote Wildest Dreams I never intended on it having a follow up, but the amount of love I got from it was so overwhelming that I decided to put this together for you all :) I’m not gonna lie, I’m a bit nervous about it, considering the amount of requests I’ve had the past year, I know there’s gonna be a lot of expectations and I wanted to do something a bit different so it’s not too predictable lol. So yeah, as always, feedback is very much welcomed!! If you enjoy please reblog it to support my writing, it would mean the world to me <3

word count: 13.7k

warnings: none!

concept: It’s Evan’s birthday and he decides to do something a bit different.

Wildest Dreams: read part 1 here :)

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

In the last two steps, you have to use your leg to support the box as it starts to slowly slip down your fingers. This serves as a reminder to start exercising again now that the midterm is over — meaning that you should finally give in to Nia’s pleas to join her in the free week of Pilates classes she got when signing in at the gym, “Exercising is one of the best ways to relieve stress!” She would argue, to which you’d simply reply with something along the lines of: “So does binging another trashy reality tv show!”

Thankfully, no one seems to notice your struggle, sparing you the embarrassment of listening to their teases due to your difficulty in carrying one of the smallest boxes of the bunch. Nate barely glances at you once you finally reach the car to hand him the box, only shooting the longest smile you’ve ever seen coming from him—which somehow still manages to be probably the quickest when compared to any other regular person. His girlfriend, who stands with hands on her hips, entirely held his attention. Nia’s purple strands of hair poke out of her half-bun in every direction and her bottom lip has found its permanent spot between her teeth as her eyes fixate on the vehicle in front of her, barely blinking.

“Everything alright, Ni?” You prompt, trying to even your breathing. “Forgot something? There’s still time to check.”

“It’s not that.” She mumbles, shaking her head to break out of her thoughts. “My keyboard doesn’t fit.” Nia nods at the instrument lying on top of the car’s ceiling.

“Oh,” You say, frowning your lips as you take in her stressed figure. Clearing your throat, you attempt to blurt out a joke, “Maybe it’s a sign you shouldn’t move it and stay right here in our little flat with creaky doors.”

She breathes out a sharp laugh, finally looking at you as she drops her arms. “Don’t start.” She warns, “You promised; no crying today.”

“Don’t worry, I’m good at holding back the tears.” You give her a soft smile, pulling her smaller frame into a hug. The sudden reality of your best friend and roommate leaving you hitting you at once. “Gonna miss you, Ni.”

You feel her sigh into your shoulder, arms circling around your middle. “I’ll be ten minutes away.”

“Not the same.”

“I know.”

The two of you sway in silence for a moment, and you watch from over her shoulder as Nate attempts to awkwardly pick up the keyboard, almost dropping it on the sidewalk in the process. He grunts, the instrument tilting in his arms, and you giggle as you hear Nia sigh once more. Tightening your arms around her, you release each other as she turns to check on her boyfriend who holds the instrument as you would a newborn — except this one is half his size and hard as a wood plank.

He glances between the both of you, helpless. “Uh, where does this go?”

“You can put it with the other big boxes upstairs, babe. We’ll take them Sunday.” Nia says, moving to close the trunk. She looks back at him, calling back in a sing-like voice before he disappears inside, “Thank you!”

You lean back against the car, a playful pout plumping your bottom lip. “Am I only seeing you again on Sunday, then?”

“Nope, I’ll pick you up for Evan’s birthday — did you forget about it already?”

You have. “Of course not. It’s on — tomorrow.”

“Is it tomorrow?” Nia gasps, eyes widening. “Holy shit, tomorrow’s Friday.”

You nod slowly, just as shocked as she is about how quickly the past couple of weeks have flown by. Between piles of book reports and stress-tear-stained essays during midterms week, you also had to find some time to help Nia with packing boxes while searching for a new roommate for yourself. If you managed a five-hour sleep on these past days, that would have been a well-rested night. So you can’t really blame yourself for forgetting about Evan’s birthday when Nia herself had it slipping through her mind.

“This is an emergency,” Nia says, eyes focusing on a point beyond you and, you feel like, if you listen close enough, you can hear the engines inside her head working. “I’ll have come here earlier so you can help me with my outfit.”

You chuckle. “What even is the theme this year?”

“He didn’t tell me,” Nia says in a huff. “But, on the bright side, I don’t think this year he’ll do anything too crazy — he was too busy these last couple months with that short film I told you about, remember?”

“Evan doing something low key? That’s a first.” You raise your eyebrows, skeptical.

“I mean, I don’t know. I’m just guessing.” Nia shrugs, picking at her nails. “I’m only saying because he mentioned once he was only inviting, like, twenty people.”

Now, this is a surprise. “I’m glad I made the cut, then.”

It’s not a secret to anyone who’s ever had any kind of interaction with Evan that he’s fond of the dramatics of life — his bright-colored outfits with mismatching patterns being the first example that comes to mind — and that reflects as well in his events. Especially when it comes to his birthday.

To be fair, you’ve only actually been to two birthday parties of his so far — considering the invitation usually finds you because he’s close to Nia and sees you as some sort of extension of her. Nevertheless, they were both impactful enough that left a clear impression of how much he enjoys celebrating himself. Last year in particular you remember quite well. It was what he called “Evaney” themed; being a mix of himself and his favorite artist: Britney Spears. And, while you and Nia showed up as one of at least fifteen different variations of the Baby One More Time schoolgirl outfit, Evan pulled a perfect match of the Oops! I Did It Again red bodysuit that he got one of his fashion student friends to tailor for him, as well as freshly dyed beach blonde hair to suit it. He even went as far as photoshopping pictures of himself on Britney’s body and had them printed on posters hung on every single room of the house. There were even custom-made cups and napkins with them — two of them that Nia stole at the end of the party still sit somewhere in your kitchen to this day.

Another particular thing you remember quite clearly was that there were enough people crowded in his living room to fill up your entire apartment, as you recall. And that’s about how a typical event at his home is like — even on his friendsmas dinner there were much more than just twenty people eating turkey out of disposable hot pink plates. So, Nia’s information leaves you wondering what he could have in mind for tomorrow with such a limited list of people.

Before you can voice your wonders to her, though, Nate pushes through the entrance door again. You can tell he, much like you minutes ago, is trying to cover his heavy breathing. “I left it on top of those big boxes with a bunch of books in ‘em.”

“Brilliant! Thank you, baby.” Nia grins, wrapping an arm around his middle. “By the way, we just remembered Evan’s birthday’s tomorrow.”

“Is it tomorrow already?” Nate asks, and you hold back a giggle at the way his face scrunches in discontent. He hates going to Evan’s to a point that’s nearly comical. “Fuck’s sake.”

“And I think I’ll come here early so we can get ready together.” Nia nods towards you.

Nate grunts. “Do I have to go this time?”

“Of course, darling.” She rises to her tiptoes to pinch his cheek, to which he brushes it off.

Nate looks at you, and you only send him a tight smile in solidarity. The two of you share similar experiences with Evan, considering the only reason either of you even gets invited is that because you’re close to Nia, and she’s close to Evan. Although you like Evan, even if you’re not that close with him, you can still put on your social mask for a couple of hours and have fun at his parties. Nate, on the other hand, is likely the least sociable person you’ve ever met, and it’s obvious how uncomfortable he gets every time.

Nia seems to sense how tense he gets as well, because she steps in front of her boyfriend, finding his eyes with her doe-like ones. “I mean, if you don’t want to, then you don’t have to.”

He sighs, “Of course I’ll go with you.” He looks up at you. “Maybe this time we can actually count how many faces of his we can see from the couch.”

This time you don’t hold back a giggle. “I have a feeling we’ll have an easier time this year.”

“Hope so.” Nate taps on Nia’s back. "Let's go, then? Is everything you need in the trunk?”

“Yup.” She answers, circling the car and opening the door to the passenger’s side. Before entering, she gives you one last look. “Do you want me to bring anything for you tomorrow?”

“I’m good.”

“‘kay!” She enters, closing the door behind her in a click and leaning over Nate to wave at you from his window. “See you tomorrow! Don’t cry too hard tonight!”

“I won’t!” You wave back.

Watching as the car pulls back, before driving away and disappearing around the corner, there’s a light breeze that raises goosebumps on the exposed skin of your arms. You cross them under your chest, leaning back into the wall of your building, not quite ready to go back to your empty home yet. The seconds blend into minutes and you stand there The promise you made to Nia not even a minute ago already pooling in your eye, knowing you wouldn’t be able to keep it anyway, you let it tickle its way down your cheek.

A rougher gust of wind hits you and, this time, you turn to go inside.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

The days are still not long enough so that the sun can shine proudly at seven in the afternoon, but as spring just about rounds the corner there’s still a golden glow as the rays provide one last warmth before disappearing on the horizon. And that’s how the sky greets you once you step out of your building to make your way towards Evan’s house for his birthday.

As planned, Nia arrived at yours with plenty of time so the two of you could help each other get ready, a bag filled with clothes she’s just taken to Nate’s yesterday under her arm for you to help her choose. “I’m thinking something monochromatic tonight.” She said as she walked in, making you jump in your spot on the couch as you didn’t hear her using the spare key. “I’m just not sure what color.”

She ended up choosing red. There was an old box of red hair dye you found lost inside the bathroom cabinet after Nia left — along with two different brands of shaving cream, although those belonging to Nate — and, after presenting it to her, she decided to go all for it, taking it as a sign. Nate showed up just about an hour after his girlfriend, still in his work attire and barely batting an eye at Nia’s new hair color as she blew dried it. The only comment leaving his mouth being, “You look like a tomato,” before kissing her forehead and excusing himself for a nap while the two of you finished getting ready.

What neither of you realized was that Nia’s last-minute decision took more time than you predicted, giving you barely enough time to get dressed. To her, that wasn’t exactly an inconvenience considering she had an outfit ready to match any color she wanted — in this case, was a red-dyed denim two-piece. and a matching jacket that ended up discarded after she noticed it covered her newest shoulder tattoo (though you tried to argue she could just have Nate carry it so she could wear it considering she eventually would get cold at some point). To you, however, was more of a stressful task, seeing you hadn’t taken in mind to think of an outfit beforehand. So you ended up just going with the safest option that didn’t give you a lot of room to overthink, choosing to finish your makeup on the way so Evan wouldn’t have any of your heads on a plate for being late.

You’ve found that applying mascara on a moving vehicle is not the easiest task, as Nia holds your elbow to help you keep steady while talking nonstop with the driver about a topic you stopped paying any mind to about ten minutes ago.

“I’m loving our black and red moment, by the way.” She turns to you, loosening her hold as you finish the last coat. “You look like one of those hot businesswomen with your teenage daughter who likes to dress like an animated character.”

You laugh at her comparison, only now noticing the discrepancy between both your outfits. Without even realizing it, you also ended up going for the monochromatic look. Except unlike Nia’s, yours completely lacks any color. “That’s actually the best comparison you could make.”

“I know — You can take a left right here — Here, I have lip gloss.” Nia fetches a small tube from her jacket (that she ended up taking, after all), presenting it to you.

“Do you not have lipstick?”

“Are you not planning on smudging it later?” Nia wiggles her eyebrows, teasing. The hint behind her words makes you roll your eyes, snatching the lip gloss from her hand without bothering to give her an answer. There was about a month or so, just before winter rolled around, that Nia felt as if she had a mission to get you with someone. You suspect, knowing too well how her mind works, that she must’ve felt some sort of guilt for what happened during her film project last year. It was clear that her attempts came from a place of good heart, but this doesn’t mean that it made them any less annoying. However, after her plans to move in with Nate became more concrete, her cupid persona seemed to have disappeared, or so you’d thought. But now that there’s nothing else filling her mind anymore, it looks like she’s back at it, and you can’t help but snort. “What? I’m just saying-”

“You say a lot of things, most of them are incorrect.” You say, “I’m not smudging anything tonight. Not on a party with twenty people, for fuck’s sake.”

“Don’t say that before — right there! The big house on the corner!” Nia leans over the console, signaling to the driver where to park. It’s so sudden that you notice how he jumps just slightly from his seat, chuckling to yourself at how Nate snaps his eyes at her.

The front of Evan’s Victorian home is unusually quiet once you step out onto the sidewalk. So much so that, if it weren’t for the lined cars parked along the street and filling his driveway, you would’ve thought you’d typed in the wrong address.

The discrepancy is clear to you when compared to other gatherings Evan hosts in his house, but especially for his birthday. Last year, you could hear Toxic blasting from his place from the moment you turned on his street, and a small crowd gathered on his front yard — most of which you recall being comprised of people plastered out of their minds, particularly one semi-naked man who was using one lamppost as a strip pole while swinging a stuffed snake

That’s more or less the standard one could expect when invited to a party at Evan’s. So, to find the street as silent as any regular day is, to an understanding, odd.

“Are you sure it’s the right date?” You ask as the metal creak of the front gate mends with gushes of wind whistling through the air.

“Yup,” Nia says simply, walking in front of you. “You can hear the music inside, shush.”

You come quiet, listening in, and, surely, you can hear the faint keys of a piano coming from the other side of the stone walls, but it only brings up more questions to your head than answers. Evan seems like the last person on Earth who would listen to classical music. Deciding not to voice your question this time, you follow short behind Nia, kicking some loose stones on the gravel path leading to the front door.

There’s no need for more than a single knock for it to open almost immediately, revealing a lace-clad Evan downing the last bits of his wine. Without the barrier you can hear the music more clearly, the keys of the piano meshing in a peculiar way, not like anything you’ve ever heard in a classical song— at least not ten years ago when you tried to learn piano for a year before giving up.

“Look at my favorite people!” Evan says with his purple-stained lips, pulling Nia for a hug with the arm that’s not holding the door open while pointing at a spot behind her. “Did you greet Jonathan when you passed him? It’s his birthday as well.”

He points to a spot where a gnome statue sits in the dry grass, face painted in clown makeup. Nate’s voice comes from behind you, “Christ.”

“Nate!” Evan chirps, going straight for the man standing with a sharp smile and throwing his arms around him. “You know you’re my favorite grumpy, right?”

Nate only taps on the shorter man’s back, quickly moving to Nia’s side as soon as he’s free from the embrace. With that, Evan turns to you, hands finding your elbows as he takes you in, “And what have you been up to, bug? It's been ages.”

“You know… Books and… Stuff.” You chuckle, brushing it off. “Happy birthday, E.”

“Thank you!” He claps his hands together. “Now, c’mon, let’s get all of you started.”

Following him inside, you’re met with a glittery box standing right next to the entrance; rolls of tape seal it shut, and a hand-sized hole has been cut on top of the lid. You try to peek at what could be inside, but strings of colorful crepe paper are stuck to the hole, making it harder to know its contents.

Evan picks up the box, holding it to his side. “So, I need each of you to grab a piece of paper inside the box. There will be a number in it but for now just hold on, drink, and chat while waiting for further instructions.” His voice lowers at the end to give his words more of a mystery behind them.

Nate tenses in front of you and you have to keep yourself from chuckling at his desperate gaze moving from the box to his girlfriend as he moves uncomfortably on his feet. Nia, however, only gives him a pat on his back, barely looking at her boyfriend as she does a little dance in excitement. “Oh, this feels fun.” She says, quickly reaching her hand inside the box and retrieving a piece of paper. “Mysterious, but fun. What do you have in mind, sir?”

“Nothing too crazy this year, darling, you can relax — We’re all too tired.” He moves the box towards Nate, who reluctantly reaches inside. “Just something to mesh people together that won’t give me too much of a headache to clean tomorrow.”

“Smart.” You say, peeking at the box as it’s presented to you before reaching for a paper inside, quickly reading the number eight written on it before folding the piece between your fingers.

“Nice! As always, drinks in the kitchen. We’re starting in ten minutes!” Evan claps, hushing the three of you further inside.

Surprisingly, this time around there are no posters of his face in sight as you follow Nia and Nate to the kitchen. There’s a mild mash of voices coming from the living room — where the sound of the piano is the loudest, and you wonder if he got an actual piano or if it’s just a Bluetooth speaker —, but it’s not nearly as loud as you’re used to from past times. The lighting has been lowered to a buttery yellow; you realize once you enter the kitchen that feels too bright to your eyes in contrast to the hallway.

“Is there any alcohol?” You wonder out loud, and Nia glances at you with her eyebrows shot towards her hairline. “What? I’m just asking ‘cause everyone is unusually quiet.”

“There’s wine and — what are these guys right here?” She picks up one out of four plastic jars sitting on the kitchen island, reading the label stuck to it out loud, “Strawberry Mary — ooh, this looks fun.”

You reach for the other three to check their contents, but all have names similar to the one Nia now fills her cup with — fruity, yet mysterious: Lana Banana, Jenny Berry Mix, and Pineapple Suzan. “Did he come up with these?” You chuckle, reaching for the berry mix.

“It was probably Adam,” Nia says, and you frown. “That bartender guy? The one with the pet snakes.”

“Oh, yeah. I know him.”

The room comes quiet as you serve yourself, and only after you glance up you realize a tension lingering in the air. Nate stands awkwardly in a corner, eyes fixed on Nia as he moves his head around subtly. Glancing between the two of them, you notice how their expressions change as they keep their eyes locked, not a single word being uttered out loud. To you, it almost feels as if they are reading each other’s minds, and the heat of their silent argument becoming clear once Nate huffs, shaking his head.

Nia clears her throat, seemingly uncomfortable, shooting you a knowing look. It’s only when she gives you a toothless smile that you realize the silent question behind it. “Uhm, I’m going to check if there are any sweets outside.”

Beelining towards the doorway, you quickly make your way out of the room. The hallway is empty and, from where you stand awkwardly in the middle of it, you can tell Evan’s left his spot by the front door, meaning he’s likely gone to the living room where the rest of the guests are. You can hear them chatting, although like you previously pointed, the voices are much more controlled than what you’re used to, and that makes you oddly flustered by the thought of walking in alone.

Considering the limited amount of invitations this year, the chances of you knowing anyone are slim and, to add to your sudden nervousness, most of the people from Evan’s closest circle of friends are — like himself — inexplicably intimidating. This is mostly because it feels like this unspoken competition that everyone has settled with each other, to subtly brag about your success whilst simultaneously pretending to be impressed about the other’s accomplishments. And for you specifically, considering you’re not part of this artist clique that they lock themselves into, it feels particularly tiresome to be part of those interactions.

So, you opt to wait for Nia, pretending to admire one peculiar painting hanging on a wall opposite to where the doorway leading to the living room stands. Every so often, you catch yourself glancing over your shoulder one way or the other, either towards the kitchen to check if your friends are joining you, or to the doorway where the rest of the guests are in. At one point, the voices get louder, joining in a laugh before tangling together in a mess of noise you can’t make sense of. It’s after a minute that you hear footsteps coming from the living room, making you freeze on your spot, carefully turning your back to whoever’s about to catch you avoiding the party, and focusing on the piece you’ve been staring at for the past five minutes.

The painting you first thought was just random strokes of earth tones abstractly put together you now realize it’s a man and it doesn’t take you more than a second or two to recognize Evan’s side profile in a peach shade. Your hand claps on top of your mouth as you fight the urge to laugh. The sound comes out muffled, but it stops as you hear the footsteps falter as they turn into the hallway. Keeping you back to them, you listen as the wooden floor creaks as whoever was approaching makes their way back. You peek to catch sight of who it might be, but all you make out is the shadow of mustard corduroys turning the corner.

As if on cue, Nia and Nate finally appear from the kitchen, thankfully neither appearing to be sour after the talk in the kitchen.

“Finally.” You say, still feeling giggly from your finding. “Nate, you have to check this-”

“Okay! Let’s start, then. Do we have everyone in the living room?” Evan’s voice interrupts you as he calls out. Nia guides you along with her to the living room. And, as soon as the three of you enter, Evan nods at you, before continuing, “Now that all the bunnies are trapped, we shall begin!” He laughs, clapping his hands together before motioning vaguely to everyone. “Before I explain what I have planned, I want to pair you all. So, I’ll call out the numbers that each of you picked when you arrived, so everyone can find their pair.”

You frown, confuse yet curious about what Evan’s up to as he calls out the numbers. Now that you stop to glance around the room, you note how there are more people than you’d expected. It’s still not nearly as many as previous parties of his, but it still feels like the room is nicely filled, maybe just a dozen people above twenty. And amongst them, there’s quite a few you recognize as they pair up together — like Georgia, the first one to be called, whom you spent a good half of the New Year’s party with, or Taylor, who gets paired with Nia (you remember him particularly from a film festival that Nia had been part of — he produced and directed a short film comparing the second wave of feminism to the wildlife in the Amazon Rainforest, and Nia couldn’t stop complaining about how bad it was for the entire week after).

It’s when Evan jokes with someone on the other side of the room, however, that you see him.

He’s tucked in a corner, right next to the bookshelves, arms crossed under his chest in a way that makes his tattoos pop out of his biceps, something you notice even standing on the opposite end of the room. His smile is subtle as he watches the scene in front of him, but it’s still enough for a dimple to poke at one side of his face -- it’s barely there, but you’ve seen it up close enough times that you notice those details. His hand holds a drink, but you pay no mind to it because what calls your attention is the mustard corduroy hugging his hips, the same one you watched run from you not only five minutes ago.

He laughs, and you avert your eyes, mouth still hung open. You wonder if anyone will notice if you leave.

But, as though he could read your mind, Evan calls the number written on that sits crumbled inside the pocket of your jacket. “Where are my number eights?”

You step forward and, like a magnet, your eyes glue on Harry as he raises his hand.

Shaking your head in disbelief, you have to fight against an urge to shut your eyes tightly as the regret of having left your room at all tonight becomes almost overwhelming. All you expected for the night was to forget about book reports and endless essays piled up on your computer, to relax, maybe drink a bit more than you should while watching Evan’s friends dancing with a taxidermy beaver or something of sorts (that was on his friendsmas party two years ago). Instead, here you are on what feels like the first day of class dynamic your teacher has imposed to make everyone interact with each other. And, suddenly, the long pages of (insert boring book) don’t seem that bad right now.

And to make matters worse (because the universe just likes to add a little more spice to your tragedies) of all people standing in this living room you just had to be paired with the one with whom you had a fling-like relationship six months ago.

It’s awkward before he even approaches you, the tension making you fidget in your spot anxiously, barely being able to shoot a tight smile his way.

The last time you saw Harry was through the rearview mirror of a car, standing on the sidewalk like an abandoned puppy with his tail between his legs. Though you admit you let your dramatics take away when you turned away from him to leave, the feeling behind it was genuine. You were upset. He had led you on, after all, made you think he wanted to have something more just to ignore you for months and, later, appear with a redhead under his arms and call her his girlfriend. So, yes, it wasn’t the best note to leave on.

But despite how you left the last encounter, the spark of nervousness that shoots through your stomachs right now doesn’t come exactly because of his presence, but more so for the awkward nature of this encounter. At the time it happened, you avoided any activity that had the slight possibility of seeing him again like the plague. You were hurt, and you were mad — though the second part was more directed at yourself than at him. But that was six months ago. After all, as much as you felt enchanted by him and as much as those two weeks you spent together were nice, that’s all that it was: two weeks. Yes, you were sad and, yes, maybe you shed a tear or two while watching Love, Rosie with Nia afterward, but that passed as quickly as it came.

That is, until now.

“Your hair is shorter” This Is all you blurt out when he stands in front of you again.

“It is, yeah.” Harry runs his hand through his hair. The strands that last time you saw him, curled around his jawline, now peek just under his earlobe. “Did it myself, actually.”

“Really?” You take a big gulp from your drink, gaze going anywhere but meeting his own. “Found yourself another talent.”

“Another?” You can hear the smirk in his voice.

“I mean, besides acting.” You grin, holding the cup to your lips and sparing him a glance. “Suppose after your debut you’ve gotten yourself busy with casting calls”

“Of course” Harry laughs. Now that you’re closer you have a better look at his dimples as they pop out, as well as the constellation of freckles hugging his nose, and the mole right under his lips. You avert your eyes again. “I’m set to be the next Bond, in fact”

“Oh, wow.” You raise your brows, grinning at the brim of your cup. “I can see it.”

He turns to you, “Can you?” You peek at him. "Why is that?”

This is exactly what you were afraid of all those months ago after last seeing him. The entire reason you ran from any possibility of seeing him again afterward. You can still remember clearly how much of a flirt he is, even when he doesn’t mean to be. It’s not a secret that Harry’s a charming man. His words are like honey, and when he uses them just right, you know is enough to have you melting. And it doesn’t help how well you seem to click together. Even now, you still feel it by your impulse to flirt back, to look him in the eye, and get just close enough to feel the scent of his cologne. Do all that just to turn away in the last second. Tease him the same way he did you. But you don’t do any of that, of course, because you’re as petty as you are bitter. So, instead, you click your tongue. “Don’t get too comfortable, Harry, bet your girlfriend wouldn’t be happy about that.”

He chuckles. “What girlfriend?”

This time you turn fully at him, brows shooting up not in defiance, but surprise. “Yikes.” You say before you’re able to hold back.

“Yikes.” Harry still holds a smile when he repeats it, head falling as he lets out a — nervous? — laugh.

A question pops into your head. One that lingered in your mind for a good while now, but comes back a bit louder now that you have the information that his relationship was short-lasted after all. It’s a short one, but one that requires a long answer, you suppose. What happened? You think. But you don’t dare to voice it, you don’t want to have this conversation with him. Whatever the explanation is, it’s not going to change anything. So you just avert your gaze back to Evan, who now calls for everyone’s attention again.

“I know you’re all dying to know what this is all about. So, I’m going to explain it all.” And with that introduction, Evan dives into a monologue you only pay half mind to. It’s hard for you to focus on the words rapidly leaving his mouth as you can feel Harry glancing at you every so often from the corner of your eye. You listen in to Evan describing himself as a feisty kid and mention his love for drama, and then you feel the ghost of Harry’s arm bumping against yours as he sways on his feet. You try to pay attention to the story being told of the events leading up to this birthday party, and then you have to hold yourself back from meeting Harry’s eyes once you feel them at the side of your face once again. He makes a comment under his breath that you don’t quite catch, and you’re about to question him before Evan’s voice comes in an even higher pitch. “I wanted tonight to be exactly that: chaotic. I didn’t want anything to quite make sense, and I didn’t want to think much, if I’m honest, last year of film school is taking a big chunk of my functioning neurons and m’dad’s whiskey collection is taking the rest of them.”

There’s a collective laugh that takes place and, once again, Harry’s eyes peeking at you. “Everyone can relax, it’s not one of those murder mystery parties, as I’ve heard some people guess — for fuck’s sake as if I have the time and patience to plan something like that.” He says with a sip directly from a wine bottle you just now realize he’s been holding. “It’s a scavenger hunt, you have a partner and an envelope with clues. Each pair will find something related to moi and after it’s all done, we’ll eat burgers and talk about me for the rest of the night.”

“Sounds easy enough.” Harry mumbles.

Evan claps his free hand on his wrist, hushing everyone. “So off you go, c’mon! I’ll be hungry in an hour.”

“This is gonna be…” You start. “Interesting.”

“Interesting is a great word to describe it.”

“Well, let’s try to do this as quickly as possible, then.”

The side of his lips quirks up. “On a rush?”

“This is not exactly a comfortable position to be. I think you get it.” You say, fidgeting on your feet. You wait for a second for him to say something so you can start the activity, but he doesn’t and you realize there’s a piece missing. “Do you have an envelope?”

Harry nods, reaching for his pocket where the envelope sits folded in half. He swiftly opens it, taking out a card.

“Well?” You prompt, “Read us the first clue, Bond.”

There’s a smile that Harry fights against at the nickname and you’re not sure due to the dim light, but you think there’s a hint of a rosy tone on the apple of his cheeks. “An activity that grows lives and ruins manicures.” He reads out loud, pausing for a moment before laughing to himself. “I know this one.”

“Grows lives?” You frown. “As in, a pregnancy?”

Harry shakes his head, leading the way towards the corridor. “As in, gardening.”

“That’s a very weird way to put it.” You say, following him. “Does he garden?”

He walks into the kitchen, greeting two people you don’t recognize who are searching for something — their clue, you assume — inside the cabinets. “No, but his sister does. There’s a greenhouse in the back.”

You simply hum in response, muttering a quick thank you as he opens the door for you that leads to the back garden. The greenhouse is not unfamiliar to you from the outside, there have been a good amount of summer gatherings in his back garden for you to know of its existence. But you’ve thought nothing more about it. If you’re honest, you never really paid much attention to it. If anything, you assumed he used it as storage at most, never taking Evan as someone who enjoyed gardening. Though now you know you were right, you've also learned that his sister lives with him and you wonder why he’s never mentioned it before.

The curiosity inside of you wants to question Harry about it, to ask him what else he knows you don’t. When you think about it, there’s a lot you want to ask him about. Not just regarding Evan, but also regarding him. You wonder what he’s been up in the past six months if he ended up adopting the kitten he’d told you about back when you were still filming or if he read any of the book recommendations you wrote on his notes app one particular night the two of you chatted for longer than the moon could hold itself up in the sky. The part of you that begs for you to say something on the short walk is so strong you have to physically bite your tongue to be able to hold back.

You don’t have to hold for long, however, as Harry takes it upon himself to say, “So,” He starts, clearing his throat, “How- uh- how are you doing?”

Somehow, his words click something inside of your mind. They remind you of why you shouldn’t let that curious part of you win. The sole purpose of it not falling for his charm. You shake your head, “We’re not doing this.”

“Doing what?” He frowns, his steps faltering for a second.

“Small talk.” You answer, focused on your goal. “We’ll just solve this thing as quickly as possible so I can go back home and finish my Euphoria marathon.”

“Right.” Harry nods once, and you can’t help but notice the way his lips quirk down, the frown not leaving his face. You can’t lie and say it doesn’t make your stomach drop the slightest bit to see you’ve upset him, but you have to remind yourself how much he’s upset you, too.

It’s protecting yourself, you think. After tonight, you don’t have to see him ever again.

Inside the greenhouse, you’re greeted with a mix of scents you’re not prepared for before stepping in. The space is compact, with a single corridor narrowed with garden beds on each side. Dozens of branches and leaves tickle you as you walk in, most of them belonging to different flowers that, despite the chilly weather that still lingers outside, are already blooming. It’s a blend of colors, bright reds, and ocean blues, soft purple petals kissing pink and yellow ones.

“We should look for gloves.” Harry’s voice startles you, chuckling as you jump a bit.

“Huh?”

“Gloves.” He says. “I think whatever we’re looking for has to do with the gloves, ‘cause he mentioned manicure.”

“That makes sense.” You look around. Many gardening tools are piling under the tables that hold the garden beds; watering cans and empty pots. You look between bags of fertilizer and drawers filled with shovels. There’s so much stuff to look through that, at one point, you sit back on your calves, glancing around, lost.

You hear Harry leafing through as you’re doing, feeling his legs brushing against your back as he passes by and you stop, watching him from your spot on the floor. He’s got a concentrated look on his face, bottom lip worried between his teeth as he scans through the walls before he opens another drawer. That’s when his gaze falls, catching yours. You quickly turn away, pretending to go through another pile of empty pots and blocking the sound of a chuckle coming from his spot.

For a moment, the only sound in the room is the clicking of ceramics and the opening and closing of wooden drawers. That is until you hear from Harry, “A-ha!”

You look up again, seeing him move to the back where few pairs of gloves hang on the wall — so obvious yet still hidden between raincoats and summer hats. “Right under our noses.” You say, getting up.

Harry searches inside the gloves, tongue trapped between his teeth. “Bingo!” He says, pulling out two tiny bottles from inside one pair.

“What is it?”

“Liquor.” He grins, peeking at you from under his lashes before ripping a piece of paper attached to it. “It says ‘one for each, now get to clue number two.’” He holds up one bottle, offering it to you, to which you take it. “It’s chocolate flavored.”

“Of course it would be a drinking game.” You open it, feeling the artificial chocolate scent braid with the alcohol. “Christ.”

“Don’t smell it, or it’ll be worse,” Harry says, downing his with one quick tilt of his head. “‘S not that bad, actually.”

You mimic his action, letting the drink swiftly burn its way down your throat. Unlike Harry, you can’t help but scrunch your nose at the taste. “You’re a fucking liar.”

Harry only giggles in response, taking the empty bottle from you and placing it back inside the gloves, along with his own.

And then again, silence. You turn to the flowers to find some comfort.

A family of tulips glances back at you, their petals in a full red, it’s the kind of beauty you’re scared to ruin if you touch, so you just rest your hand on the wood. “They’re beautiful.” You only notice you say it out loud when Harry hums back in agreement.

“They are.” He says quietly but somehow feels loud by how close he is. “Tulips are my favorites.”

You stop, brows raising incredulously at him. “No, they’re not.”

“What?”

Cursing the universe for playing with you like this, you can’t help but laugh at the situation. “It’s just- they’re my favorites, too.” You look at him. “My nan used to plant them when I was little.”

“That’s sweet.” He says, smiling and you nod. “The red ones represent true love.” He points. “And the purple ones represent royalty.”

You blink at him. “Do you just look up tulip facts in your free time?”

Harry laughs. “Yeah, basically.” He looks down at you, and you can’t help but notice how the greenery around brings out the shade of his eyes. “I worked at a flower shop for a tick.”

“Really?”

He nods. “For eight months. My favorite part was writing on the store board every morning.” His face lights up as he recalls his experience. “I used to write silly stuff like, ‘one day I’d like to meet tulips.’ The old ladies loved it.”

You shake your head, breathing out a laugh. “You’re dangerous.”

“Dangerous? Why’s that?”

Because you’re sweet, you want to answer, because when I think I won’t get charmed by you again, you hit me with tulip puns. Your lip finds its spot between your teeth, you’d be damned to give him the satisfaction of hearing you tell him that, so, instead, you shrug. “Because.” You can tell he wants to dig more by the way his lip twitch up, teasing a smile, but you just nod towards the door before turning away from him and heading out.

There’s a distinct change of temperature when you step outside, and it’s only when you do that you notice the greenhouse was heated. Thankfully, the night is not too windy as it would get a week or two ago when winter was still insisting on making itself present, but it’s still chilly so that it makes you hug your jacket closer to your body. Harry also notices the difference, as you hear him wince as he steps out from behind you — unlike you, he’s not wearing anything to protect his arms from the cold, which only makes it harder for you to not ogle the tattoos hugging his skin.

“So, what’s next?” You prompt.

Harry reaches for the card again, taking it from its spot on his pocket before reading the second clue. “‘Not feeling too creative to write this one, it’s on the third tree on oak.’”

“I mean, at least we don’t have to think too much on this one.” You say, “Oak Street is the one to the left, right?”

“Yeah.” Harry sighs. “Can’t believe he’s making us go out on the streets.”

You start to make your way back towards the house. “Too tired for a stroll?”

“‘S cold,” Harry says, scrunching his nose. “Here, there’s a side gate.”

He guides you through a gravel path to where the black gate stands, hidden between bushes and branches. Strings of fern hug the bricked fence and the surrounding grass is high enough that it tickles your calves through your tights, making you believe this path has probably been left unused for at least a couple of months now. This information brings out an extra worry for you, as you take a better look at it, noticing how the gate is closed shut to the fence.“Is it open?” You wonder out loud.

“Shit, I don’t think it is.” Harry huffs under his breath. “But, I mean, we could easily jump it.”

You stop, turning to glance at him as the suggestion leaves his lips. He stands there, hands on his hips, examining the gate, tongue poking out as he frowns. After a second, he meets your eyes. “What? It’s not that tall.”

“I suppose.” You say, looking back at the fence that ends just below your shoulder length. It would be easy enough for you to climb it with a boost, however, “I’m wearing a dress.”

“Oh,” Harry scratches the back of his neck. “Let’s just go inside-” He turns back.

“Wait,” You stop him, not sure if it’s the slight amount of alcohol in your system already making you more adventurous, you train your gaze at the gate, analyzing it again, before looking back at him. Squinting your eyes, “You have to close your eyes.”

He laughs, “Are you sure?”

“It’s not that high.” You shrug. “But I need your help.”

“Of course.” He moves next to the brick wall, kneeling before it and nodding towards you. “C’mon, step up.”

Hesitantly, you glance at his thigh stretching his trousers, a sudden wave of insecurity hitting you. “Are you sure you can lift me?”

Harry simply puts his hand out in a silent request for you to hold. “Of course.”

“No peeking.”

He shuts his eyes tightly, chin meeting his chest as he looks down. And then you take his hand, feeling his fingers lock in a firm hold as he helps you use him for support. You hesitate again before using his thigh as a step, “Wait, I’m gonna ruin your trousers.” You worry, but Harry only shakes his head, still keeping it facing the ground, the strands of his hair falling above his eyes in a makeshift blindfold. When he doesn't feel you stepping in still, he encourages you with a squeeze in your hand.

You attempt to do as quickly as possible with your dress clinging to your legs, tightening your hold to Harry’s hand to step on his thigh. Once you let it go, you can still feel it lingering behind your back as you use your arms to boost yourself up the wall, sitting on it for a moment before jumping to the other side with a huff.

“Can I open them?” You hear Harry’s voice calls from the other side, and you smile, nodding even though he can’t see it.

“Yes!”

And then his face appears as he stands up in a jump, grinning at you. “See? Easy Peasy.”

“I feel like a teen sneaking out.” You say, and you instantly give another meaning to your words as Harry boosts himself up. This time, you certainly don’t hold yourself back from staring at the way his muscles flex at the movement, the tattoos on his arms stretching, and his shirt rolling up. He makes it look so easy, so effortless, barely taking five seconds until he’s jumping in front of you.

“That was fun.” He puffs, patting his trousers lightly.

“So, how are we finding the tree?” You ask, taking a quick glance to where his hands brush on the fabric of his trousers. “Should we read the clue again?”

“I know which one he’s talking about,” Harry says, nodding to the left before beginning his stride in that direction. You follow him, trusting his words as the two of you turn the corner where Evan’s house is located.

The street in question is much calmer than the one you were just in, with no cars coming or going from the residences — that stand much closer to one another, you notice, giving the whole street more of a narrow feeling to it --, which is not exactly odd, but certainly is a contrast with the main street that Evan’s home faces, that one being more lively with people either coming home or leaving it to enjoy their Friday night. The sudden lack of background noise makes the walk to your destination a tad awkward, as none of you make an effort to strike a conversation. Instead, you resort to silently observing the surrounding area as you walk alongside Harry, noticing how the trees here bend over the sidewalk, their naked branches slowly but surely growing back the leaves they lost months ago — it makes you wonder how beautiful this must look during the peak of springtime, their full branches blending together, making a ceiling of flowers.

“Here.” Harry stops abruptly, making you almost bump into his shoulder, as you were too busy with the scenery you’ve made in your own head. “‘S this one.”

“I thought it said the third one.” You frown, looking back and noticing the way you’ve passed way more than just three.

“This one is the third.” He says, motioning to a small birdhouse stuck to its trunk with a number ‘3’ painted to the front in blue. “It’s a bit of an inside joke,” Harry chuckles to himself. “Now I get why the bastard wanted me to have this card.”

You look closer at the tree, trying to see if there’s something attached to it besides the birdhouse, but there’s nothing. Before you can question it, Harry opens the front of the tiny house, retrieving two tiny bottles from inside of it, similar to the ones you found in the greenhouse. “Oh, no.” You say, laughing. “Did he just put liquor inside a stranger’s birdhouse?”

Harry shakes his head, “This is not a stranger’s birdhouse.”

“Huh?” You frown, glancing back to the house where you stand in front of, its front completely dark, showing that no one must be at home. You point to it over your shoulder. “Do you know who lives here?”

“Yeah,” He starts, offering you one bottle. “I do.”

Your brows shoot up in surprise, glancing back and forth from the house to the man standing in front of you, an amusing grin growing on his face. “You live here?” You ask, “This is your birdhouse?”

“It is, yeah. In fact, I was the one who built it.” He gives the birdhouse a small pat.

You can’t help but let your mouth hang open for a second. “That’s-” You pause, not sure which word to use. Impressive? Amazing? Hot? “That’s nice.”

Harry smiles, and the two of you stand there for a moment, admiring his work in silence. You suck your bottom lip in, keeping yourself from inquiring further.

Being presented with how little you know about Harry only peaks at your curiosity at what had happened last year in your brief experience with him. When you were with him it felt as if you’d known him for months rather than weeks, but looking back at it now, you wonder if your infatuation fooled you into thinking the two of you were close. Maybe that’s why you were so upset at the premiere after all because all that did was prove to you how much you didn’t know him at all. No matter how many sleepless nights you spent together sharing bits of your lives, it wasn’t enough for you to get to know him.

It’s only when a car turns into the street that you break away from your thoughts, looking up at him and clearing your throat. “We should take this back to Evan’s.” You say. “I’m not sure how it would look from an outsider’s point of view to see us downing these tiny bottles in the middle of the street.”

“You’re right,” Harry says. “Should we read the last clue while we’re at it?”

“Sure, yeah.”

He reaches for the card inside his pocket, presenting it to you. “You do the honors this time.”

You take the card, brushing your thumb over the words before stopping for a second to read them out loud, “You’ll find your prize behind the words of buried legends.” You snort. “That’s so corny.”

“Words of buried legends,” Harry repeats, letting out a hum. “Bet he was feeling quite poetic when he wrote this one.”

“Maybe because it has to do with poems.” You peek at him, a slight raise to your eyebrow. “‘Words of buried legends’? like dead poets and stuff?” Upon reading it again to make sure, you mumble, “He really made this card especially for you, huh?”

“Makes sense.” Harry agrees before nudging you playfully with his arm. “Look at you with your literary mind!”

“Could’ve used some better wording but I’ll let it pass.” You giggle, shrugging as you hand him back the card. As you do so, you notice there’s something written on the other side. “What’s in the back?”

Harry’s brows meet. “Huh?”

“In the back of the card, something’s written on it.” You nod towards his hand as he’s about to pocket the card again.

Harry turns it around, reading it with a chuckle. “Ice breakers.”

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.” Your mouth drops open in amusement. “Well? Go on, then. Break the ice.”

Harry makes a show of clearing his throat before reading the question as an announcement, “What celebrity do you think you could pull on your best day?”

“Is this the actual question?” You squint your eyes at him and he turns the card to allow you to read it as well. Surely, the same question reads right on top of it and, as you take a glance at the ones below it, they’re not that much better. You shake your head, “God, I have no idea.”

“I know mine.”

“You didn’t give a single thought on that one.” You say. “This should be good.”

“Jennifer Aniston.”

“Jennifer Aniston?” You stop on your tracks, raising your brows at him. “You know she was married to Brad Pitt, right?”

“Ouch.” Harry makes the theatrics of putting a hand on his heart, head falling dramatically to the side. “Right where it hurts.”

“I’m not saying you’re bad-looking, but he’s Brad Pitt.” You emphasize with a laugh, pushing him playfully as you keep walking. “Like he is the male beauty standard. Personified.”

The front of Evan’s feels more vivid than it was when you first walked in hours ago, the lights inside seeming lighter and the curtains having been pulled back, showing people wandering around on the inside. You walk past another pair crouched in front of the bushes that line next to the front gate that creaks as you open it.

Harry rolls his eyes. “Sure, let’s hear yours, then, sweetheart.”

“Ew, don’t ever call me that again.” Your nose scrunches and your face grows hot, but you attempt to shake it off, stopping to think of the question. “Huh, on my best day? I think… I don’t know, maybe Drake?”

“Oh, no!” Harry’s hands cover his face as he shakes his head into them. “I feel like that’s the most basic answer anyone could ever give to this question.”

You gasp. “Did you just call me basic?”

Harry holds the front door open for you and, before he’s able to give you an answer, you bump right into Nia. She instantly blurts out your name, as if she’s been expecting you to appear. “I’ve been looking for you!” She says, sparing Harry a glance over your shoulder before pulling you slightly to the side. “Do you think we could talk for a second?”

“Sure.” You hold out the word, looking at Harry before focusing on your friend again. “Did something happen?”

“No, no, nothing happened. Just—” Nia starts, locking your arms as she guides you back outside, pulling you to a corner a few steps away from the front door. “How are you? How's it going?”

“I’m fine. Why?” Your brows knit together at her interference and you wonder if it has anything to do with her conversation with Nate.

“I’m talking about-” She looks over her shoulder, clearly checking if anyone is listening in. Even after making sure that there’s no one there, she still lowers her voice. “When I saw he was your pair, I wanted to rescue you right away, but fucking Taylor pulled me with him and I didn’t get the chance.”

Oh. “Oh.”

“Is it too awkward?” She keeps her inquiry, holding your hand close to her chest. “We could ask them to switch so we can do the rest together, I’m sure Evan’s too plastered to notice.”

“Nia, I-” You smile as you come to realize that she pulled you aside just to check if you’re uncomfortable, having witnessed first-hand your whines and cries over Harry last year. “It’s okay, really. It’s not that bad, surprisingly.”

“Really?” Nia blinks, taken aback. “I- What happened?”

“Nothing.” You reassure her with a squeeze on her hand. “We’re just chatting, it’s not that awkward.”

“Okay.” She nods and nods, before falling serious again. “But if anything happens you just have to scream for me and I’ll be right there, okay?”

“Okay.” You say, pulling her for a brief hug. “Thanks, Ni.”

The two of you return inside just as Taylor brings up his brother’s hair sculpture collection that’s being exhibited at a local gallery — a subject you already have been the victim of hearing for about an hour during New Year’s and, by Harry’s face, he seems as helpless as you did back then. Nia doesn’t waste a second before pulling her pair away, “Let’s go, pal, those clues won’t solve themselves,” she shoots you a look over her shoulder, pushing Taylor towards the living room and you chuckle.

“He really is one of a kind, that man,” Harry says with a sigh before meeting your gaze. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, just lady talk.” You brush aside. “Let’s find those poets, shall we?”

“We shall.” Harry smiles, looking around for a second before guiding you down the hallway, turning just before entering the kitchen where a staircase. This is a way that — like the greenhouse — you’ve never been to. Still, Harry navigates so casually as if it were his own home and, to some degree, you suppose it is. You follow him up the first flight of steps, stopping just before turning into the next one where a door you never really noticed before stands. Harry rests his hand on the handle, turning to you before saying, “There’s an office hidden right here.”

You watch as he opens it, motioning for you to walk in first. And, indeed, the inside of it is an office, just a bit smaller than the living room on the opposite side of the house. Two bookcases that go from the floor to the ceiling mostly covered the wall, only leaving a single space in the middle for a dark wooden cabinet. In front of it, an L-shaped desk takes up the middle of the room, most of it is filled with files and paper stacks, as well as two computers lying asleep. For a moment, you just stand by the doorway, admiring this room you’ve never known of its existence, your eyes quickly sweeping through the bookshelves completely packed with dark cover books of all sorts. “Do you think this is where it could be?”

“Probably, yeah.” Harry nods, turning on the lights. “I don’t know where else he could have any poetry hidden.”

You move towards one bookshelf, the one closest to the door, reaching to brush your finger through the spines perfectly lined. “But look at the size of these, we’ll take forever to find anything in here.”

“Those big ones are mostly law books, I think,” Harry says, opening cabinets at the other side of the room, right next to where a white couch stands. He turns to look at you, “His sister’s a lawyer, this is her office.” Harry says, “But Evan’s got a corner right here where he keeps some of his stuff— like books of sorts. It’s the only place I could think of.”

You hum, not knowing exactly what to respond to this information.

“You can go through the ones on that side, it could be there as well.” Harry nods towards a cabinet right next to the door where you came from, and you nod.

The first two cabinets are of no luck, both being mostly filled with boxes full of children’s books and old toys — some of them mixed with more stacks of paper, but those, instead of having long texts, have drawings of all kinds from what you could gather in a glance, from child-like scribbles to actual sketches. You can hear Harry going through drawers on the other side of the room and, upon closing another empty cabinet, you peek at him, watching his broad back flexing under his shirt as he moves around. Averting your eyes as swiftly as you looked, it’s still enough to bring warmth to your cheeks.

Finally, you open the cabinet at the very bottom of the shelf. On the top, there are piles of DVDs, most being different variations of Barbie movies, but, right at the bottom, you find books. You don’t stop to check their genre at first, simply moving them away until you stumble upon a small box, the top of it marked with the word ‘prize’. “Found it!” You call back, taking the box away from the pile before setting the books back in place again. “Under Rupi Kaur? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure she’s very alive.”

“Don’t tell Evan that,” Harry says as he crouches next to you, taking the box from your hands. Inside, there are, as expected, two tiny bottles like the ones you found before but, what calls both your attention, is a small bag of sweets lying in the middle. Harry takes it, “Oh, those are nice.”

He hands it to you and you open it, quickly shoving a jelly candy into your mouth before nodding. “Yeah.”

“So…” Harry starts, peeking over his shoulder, “Do you want to go back there?”

You glance at him, his eyes hovering above yours, lips twitching up just barely. “Uh… Maybe not right now.” You answer, “Unless you feel like sharing our Jellies with other people.”

Harry only laughs, shaking his head as he sits back and you do so too, right next to him. He reaches for his pocket, presenting another tiny bottle, the one you found inside his birdhouse, “We still got these.”

“Right!” You fetch your own out of the pocket of your jacket.

Harry opens his, holding it up towards you. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” You say, mimicking him.

Both of you down your drinks, the liquid tasting bitter, like medicine on your tongue, the only reminder of alcohol being the burn as it slides down your throat. You rest your head back on the cabinet behind you as the two of you fall into silence once more. A part of your mind is already beginning to swim around the space inside your head, and you decide to not take the last drink just yet, laying it next to your leg. Though you’ve only had the equivalent of two shots, you realize the long break you’ve had from drinking for the past couple of months -- which wasn’t exactly an intentional choice, but more like the result of your lack of free time -- is showing itself to have been enough to make you more of a lightweight.

And even though the night so far has been strikingly surprising in terms of how comfortable you felt being around Harry again, it doesn’t mean the questions you’ve been carrying since last year have gotten any quieter. They’ve only gotten louder. More persistent, even. The curiosity you feel to know what happened is almost suffocating now. And you’d be damned if you let a drunken mind stop you from having this conversation.

You glance at him from the corner of your eyes, only watching the back of his head bobbing along with the music -- still the piano -- that comes faintly from behind the closed door. Your lips part, feeling the question form right at the tip of your tongue, but not knowing how to voice the words. Will it be awkward? You think so, but what if it ruins the night? Tonight, that’s been so oddly refreshing. A night that only served to remind you how you became so infatuated with him in the first place.

But you know you won’t be able to let go of this ich inside your head unless you bring it up. And you want to, you do, but as you take too long to think of the right way to do so, Harry decides to break the silence, murmuring next to you, “That’s a good one.”

Your brows knit together, trying to make out any trace of familiarity within the song that’s playing, but you don't find any, which only leaves you even more confused. “Do you like classical?”

“Love,” Harry says simply, his eyes closed as he moves his head with the piano keys. “Especially this one. One of the greatest works from one of the greatest contemporary composers: Billie Eilish.”

Your lips fall open, “Shut up. Is she playing this?”

Harry laughs, a full one, that brings a grin to poke at your lips. “I mean, as far as I’m aware, no. It’s a version of her song — listen in.” He points to his ear, nodding with the melody as he sings along, “So you’re a tough guy, like it really rough guy.”

You shake your head incredulously, “Of course he’s playing classical versions of pop songs!”

“Did you really think Evan had a taste for Chopin or Debussy?” Harry asks both dimples poking on his cheeks.

“I think at this point I’d believe anything you tell me about him.”

Both of you laugh, the air surrounding you light and warm, before falling quiet again. This time, however, you simply stare at each other for a beat. You watch his eyes, with their almost hypnotizing jade shade, glancing between your own. He rolls his lip between his teeth, nibbling at it. This is the closest you’ve been to him all night, and the details on his face only feel like a reminder of your doubts. Like the nostalgia you feel with a bittersweet memory.

“Should we-“ You stop, the words falling from your lips before you can think about them. “Should we talk about the elephant in the room?”

You half expect Harry to frown, to play dumb, and question you the meaning behind your words. For a second, you even expect him to shake his head, to get up and leave the room. And, for some reason, you kinda want him to do so. To finally break the mask of the nice, sweet guy he’s been putting on all night and allow himself to play the role of cold prick you put him on for the past months.

But he doesn’t do it. He only gives you a short smile. “I was thinking about how to bring it up.” Harry’s gaze falls to his lap for a beat as he scratches his nose. “We should, yeah.”

You nod, more to yourself than to him. This is it. The moment to ask what you’ve been waiting for for six months now. You decide not to think much anymore, allowing the question to roll freely, “I don’t really know how to word this better but- pardon my French- what the fuck happened?”

Harry chuckles, but not an amused one. It’s more of a dry, nervous laugh. “How cliche is it if I tell you I was really fucking stupid?”

“Pretty cliche.” You say, “But also pretty true, I suppose.”

“I’m sorry for that.” He looks up, eyes meeting yours again, his own softening upon seeing you. “I really am.”

“Thank you for apologizing.” You smile a little, “But I think I deserve an explanation.”

“You do.” He speaks quietly before clearing his throat. For a second, he doesn’t say anything else, just takes a sharp breath, focusing on his fingers that play with the hem of his trousers. “I- Uhm- I know this might come as a surprise, but I’m not very good at letting people down.”

“A bit, I guess.” You try to humor, but your tone doesn’t show it. You sound quiet, hurt.

He peeks up at you, and continues, “Jess- the girl you met at the premiere- she’s lovely and all, but- how do I say this- we were never really supposed to be together.” Harry sighs, “I didn’t like her like that.”

You frown, “Then, why did you?”

“A couple of months before we met- before Evan even mentioned the film project to me, one of my mates kept insisting that I should meet his sister.” He pauses, “That was Jess.”

“I figured.”

Harry nods, “As I said, she’s a lovely girl, really nice, but we just- didn’t click like that, you know?” You hum in agreement, ignoring a small twist in your stomach when he repeats the endearment term. “But I guess she really wanted to try it, and, for months, I just kept pushing and pushing, cause I thought maybe with time I could bring myself to feel the same way.” And then again, another humorless laugh, “But- spoiler alert- I couldn’t and I should’ve just told her that.”

Your mouth hangs open for a beat before you decide against saying anything. It’s clear as you watch him explain that the entire situation for him felt more complicated than you’d ever considered. Not once did you think about the possibility of him being caught in a twist of his own decisions, and not once did you regard his feelings with the whole situation. In your bubble of gloominess, all you could think of was how he played you and used you for a bit before moving on to the next girl that fell for his sweet talk.

Looking at him now, however, his head low and brows set on a permanent crease, lips frowning down, you can feel the internal conflict pooling out of his pores. You’re not sure if it’s exactly a look of remorse that he gives you, but it sure seems close to it.

Harry huffs in what feels like frustration as he keeps recalling the events, “But all my mates kept taking the piss, pushing me to ask her out and then, in the middle of it, I met you.” He finally smiles a bit, and you have to look down to hide the warmth that spreads on your cheeks, “And we-uh-” He shrugs, “I mean, we clicked, didn’t we?”

“I think so.” You say, just above a whisper.

“I think so, too,” Harry says, holding your gaze with his own. “And when I was with you I let myself forget about that, forget about the pressure to be with someone else, I guess.” His lips fall again, eyes meeting his lap, “But when we came back, there wasn’t much running away from it anymore. The night we got back I met that friend of mine and, I’m not sure if he said anything to Jess, but she asked me out.”

“And you said yes.”

“I said yes.” He repeats, shaking his head, “I shouldn’t have, but I said yes.”

“So you just dated her? Even if you didn’t like her like that?” You say, trying to understand his thought process. Even if his words tug at your heartstrings -- which you try to not think about right now -- you still can’t help but feel a bit for the other girl.

“I thought I could- I don’t know, I thought with time maybe I could-” He stumbles around with his speech, before finally letting out a sigh, “I don’t know what was going through my head, to be honest. I was a prick.”

“At least you can admit to it.”

“I was a prick to both of you.”

You fall quiet, hoping he takes your silence as an agreement. When he doesn’t offer anything else, you speak up again, “Did it work, though?” He frowns, and you clarify, “Letting time force feelings into you?”

“I found very quickly how hard it is to develop feelings for someone when there’s someone else on your mind.” He says, and you bite back a smile that wants to spread on your lips.

“It’s very easy to say that now.”

“I know.” He agrees, “And I wish I could’ve realized that earlier, before even bringing you into this mess.” Harry reaches for your wrist, which lies on top of your lap, giving it a gentle squeeze. “For that I really am sorry.”

“I know you are.” You reassure, turning your hand to find his, squeezing it back. “And what happened to Jess?”

“She was rightfully upset when I told her.” His thumb brushes against your knuckles, moving the rings on your fingers around just slightly, and it’s almost enough to distract you from his voice. “We broke up a day after the premiere.”

“Ouch.”

“But it’s fine now, she’s got a boyfriend now who actually cares for her the way she deserves,” Harry says.

“That’s nice to hear, at least.”

“It is, yeah.”

You look down at your hands locked in your lap, squeezing his one more time before letting it go with a sigh. “You really made a big mess, huh?”

He chuckles, a guilty smile poking on his face, “I did.”

You nod, finally reaching for the tiny bottle left forgotten next to you, opening it. This time you only take a sip, but it’s still enough to end half of the liquid inside. You click your tongue, “I’m glad we talked, though.” You look up at Harry again, who’s already watching you, giving a small tap on his thigh. “It’s nice to have closure, you know? To give it a conclusion and wrap with a nice little bow.”

Harry rolls his lip inside his mouth, “Is this a conclusion, then?”

You raise your brows, “Is it not?”

“I guess it could be.” He shrugs one shoulder, leaning closer to you just barely, eyes trained in yours. “But I’m hoping that, after today, maybe we could start over?”

You laugh, scrunching your nose at him as you shake your head. “Not a start over, no.” You poke his side, “You’re not getting away that easy.”

“You’re right.” He says, still not budging as he frowns his lips. “But I wish it didn’t have to be an ending as well.”

“Is that so?”

Harry nods, you can tell his eyes hold a shyness that wasn’t here a minute ago, but at the same time -- as paradoxically as it seems -- there’s a boldness as well, one you’re more familiar with. “Maybe we could chat again. This time with fewer ice breaker cards and more bags of sweets.”

You smile, rubbing your chin as you pretend to ponder about his suggestion. “That does sound very promising.”

“I really do think we clicked.” He drops his playful tone as if wanting to make sure you feel the sincerity behind his words. “Wasn’t just saying it.”

“I know.” You say, “And I think so, too.”

His smirk grows, and he doesn’t offer anything else to say, but you can tell he’s holding something back. With the silence, you suddenly become too aware of the way your arms brush together, and how his knee bumps against yours. You notice how his eyes fall a bit from yours, so quickly you could’ve imagined it, but you choose to not think so. If you lean forward, you know he will too, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction. You’re not letting yourself make the first move.

Surely, you’re aware these thoughts are a direct result of the alcohol sweeping through your mind, testing how much of your pride you’re willing to ignore. There’s no questioning of the wall that you built all those months ago after walking out of this very house with this very man on your tail blurring out apologies. It still stands, tall and strong, and you're not letting sweet words mixed with a drink or two pull it down. Not that easily. But at this moment, looking at his stupidly beautiful face with his stupidly beautiful eyes so close to you, you feel like maybe you could peek through a window, or open up a door — just a creek, just to have a sample of what it would feel like if you were to pull it down.

“Do you want to go back?” Harry asks again, this time more quietly, this time his question has a different implication than it did before.

You're quick to shake your head, voice quiet, “Not yet.”

The corner of his lips quirk up and you raise your brows, silently daring him to ask what he’s been holding. You see his hand moving from the corner of your eyes, but you don’t break your gaze from his, not even when you feel his fingertips moving so gently against your cheekbone, brushing your hair away from your face. Harry leans closer, again just barely, and again, you stay still, only smiling softly in encouragement. Now, you’re stuck in your own silent conversation; both seeking the same thing but not making the move to achieve it -- either for pride or apprehension.

“I’d really like to kiss you right now,” Harry whispers finally, eyes moving down again, this time slowly, making sure that his intentions are clear.

“Do it, then.” You tease.

Harry breathes out a laugh, his hand caressing its way down to your jaw. He rubs his thumb against your cheek, a feathery touch, taking another second to look at you before pulling you in. Your eyes fall closed, as you focus on your senses, and allow yourself to peek from that window, or creek that door open just a bit, to have just this moment to remember when you first got lost in his touch.

First, it’s the warmth of his breath tickling your cupid bow, making your hold your own breath in anticipation. Then, the tip of his nose, gentle against your own, and you can’t help but lean in a bit more when you feel the ghost of his lips on yours. But he pulls back, just so slightly, hoping to have you reach for him again. Except you don’t, knowing what he’s trying to do.

“Uh-uh,” you shake your head, pulling back just a bit to look him in the eye. “You don’t get to tease me.”

Harry huffs out a laugh, “That’s fair.”

This time, there’s no teasing. Still, he goes in just as slowly as he did the first time around, curving his lips around your bottom one so softly it almost makes you lean in again. His kiss is cloud-like in a way that makes you a bit dizzy and when he presses his lips harder, you have to refrain from letting out a dreamy sigh -- still too stubborn to give him the satisfaction. It’s when you feel the tip of his tongue poking out to lick at your bottom lip in a silent request, that you pull away completely.

It’s your turn to smirk now, licking your lips before announcing, “I think we should go back now.”

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