#ever look into your morning latte and find the meaning of the universe? yeah | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kythed · 3 years

Text

“almost funny”

synopsis: suna rintarou thinks you’re out of his league, and you think he’s out of yours.

tagged: general dumbassery, fwb-to-lovers, some profanity, sexual references but nothing explicit.

commitment level: 5.6k words.

It’s almost funny, really. It’s funny how what started out as a purely physical transaction has now transformed into a one way ticket to Simpville with the name Suna Rintarou stamped on it in big red letters. Suna runs a hand through his hair in frustration as he stares down at your sleeping form, curled up in his SF Giants tee that fits you like an oversized nightgown. He loves how you look there, wearing his clothes, bed head resting on his pillows. It’s almost embarrassing how much he loves it. How much he might love you.

He doesn’t really remember when he started seeing you as more than a good fuck. Maybe it was that time you told him he looked pretty with your lipgloss smeared across his mouth.

“That’s a nice shade on you,” you’d laughed as he wiped his lips on the back of his hand. “You should wear it more often.”

Then, before he could respond, you’d yanked him back in by the collar, licking into his mouth, deep and dirty. He shivers now even just thinking about it, recalling the taste of that lipgloss. Strawberry lemonade, the sort that comes in little bottles at the dollar store. However “pretty” he might’ve looked in that moment, he’s sure you looked a hundred times better. You always do, and you don’t even have to try. You’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen, even in your worst moments.

Or maybe it was the time you remembered his birthday when no one else did. January 25th; all his friends had taken off on their ski trips or tropical vacations, but you showed up to his apartment toting a cupcake and a single candle, belting a loud, out of tune rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ until he shut you up with an impulsive kiss on the lips. You’d been surprised, but not so surprised you couldn’t kiss him back. Suna’s pretty sure most friends-with-benefits don’t do that sort of thing. They don’t sit across from each other at the kitchen table, splitting a vanilla cupcake and laughing over matching frosting mustaches. They don’t hug each other goodbye after two hours of scrolling through YouTube and nothing else, content to linger in that air of tentative familiarity and pseudo-friendship.

Whatever the reason, whenever it happened, all Suna knows now is you’re more than just a fuck buddy. He doesn’t even want to associate the term with you — it feels disrespectful. He wishes he could just stop pretending. Stop pretending he doesn’t want you to be his.

“Hey.”

Suna grins at your low, throaty morning voice. It’s cute.

“Hey,” he responds, reaching forward to flick your shoulder. “You slept in.”

“Did I?” You blink the sleep from your eyes and squint at Suna’s bedside clock. 9:06. “Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit.”

You fly out of bed, wiggling into your jeans and tossing your hair into a careless ponytail before frantically scanning the room. “Have you seen my sweater anywhere?”

Suna exhales through his nose before getting up and walking over to his closet. “I hung it up last night so it wouldn’t be wrinkled.”

You freeze in your tracks, slowly turning with a teasing grin plastered on your face. “Oh? How considerate of you.”

Suna shrugs, avoiding your gaze. He feels a flush rise to cheeks and desperately hopes it doesn’t show. “Just being polite.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you had a little crush on me,” you crow before taking the sweater from the hanger and slipping it over your head.

“You wish,” he snorts, but all he can think is you’re absolutely right.

You ignore him and begin shoveling all your things into your purse: a compact mirror, lipstick, house keys. You glance at the clock again. “I’m gonna be so late to this lecture. Damn. Maybe I can text Aiko and ask her to record the first part for me.”

Suna raises an eyebrow. He remembers your friend Aiko from a party last year, before you and he began your… arrangement. She’s outgoing, friendly, and probably the flakiest person he’s ever met. “She’s not gonna do that. Just let me drive.”

“No, it’s fine,” you automatically brush him off, heading into the bathroom to splash your face with lukewarm water. “You probably have your own shit to take care of.”

Yeah, you, he thinks, but instead he says, “Not really. Plus, you’ll probably miss the whole thing if you try to bike to campus. Let me take you in the car. I’ll strap the bike onto the back.”

You give him a look. “Are you sure, Rin?”

“It’s really not a big deal,” he says, throwing on a shirt. “Outside in five, and I’ll have you there by 9:30, easy.”

After a few more weak protestations, you finally agree, and as he drives you to your university, he lets himself pretend you’re his girlfriend sitting there in the passenger seat. He turns on your favorite artist’s Spotify mix on the aux and smiles to himself when you hum along, watching the city fly past out the window. What he wouldn’t give for that reality, one where he can love you without all these restrictions, these tricky boundaries between friends and lovers. When you jump out of the car, calling a cheeky “I’ll text you!” over your shoulder, he pretends it’s an affectionate “I’ll see you for dinner tonight!” instead. He pretends that instead of rushing to get away from him and into the lecture hall, you kiss him on the forehead and squeeze his shoulder, reluctant to leave.

“Fuck me,” Suna says angrily before slamming his palm into the horn, scaring a few freshman walking to class. “And fuck you too!”

He’s not sure who “you” is. Maybe the universe.

No, Suna Rintarou doesn’t know why or how it happened, but he’s in too deep now. And he’s pretty damn sure you’ll never feel the same way.

You slide into your seat beside Aiko just as the guest lecturer pulls up his power point, breathing out a sigh of relief. Aiko shoots you a grin, waggling her eyebrows. Suna? she mouths, and you roll your eyes, nodding nonetheless. Aiko can hardly wait until after the lecture to start pestering you about it.

“So,” she says as you leave the auditorium together. “Did you tell him yet?”

“Tell him what?” You dig in your bag for your water bottle, groaning when you remember leaving it on the edge of Suna’s sink last night.

“Tell him that you’re in loooooove,” Aiko sings, nudging your shoulder.

You scoff. “Okay, first of all, I don’t love him.”

“But you like him,” Aiko persists, and you hold up a finger.

“And second of all, even if I did, I would never tell him.” You yawn, rubbing your eyes before realizing you hadn’t taken your makeup off and thus probably have awful raccoon eye bags. “He’s so out of my league it’s not even funny. It’s kind of pathetic for me to think he’d ever like me back.”

Aiko scoffs. “If anything, you’re out of his league. You could pull any guy you wanted to. And when I say any, I mean any. Like, I bet you could even get Jake Gyllenhaal.”

You laugh. “Why specifically Jake Gyllenhaal?”

Aiko shrugs. “Dunno. Just the first hot guy that came to mind. But forget him. My point is, Suna Rintarou is definitely yours for the taking. All you have to do is —”

“I know, I know,” you interrupt. “All I have to do is confess.”

“Exactly,” says Aiko. Before she can open her mouth again, you cut in.

“Okay, but listen, Aiko,” you say. “Suna’s the kind of guy who doesn’t let himself get attached. He fully admitted to me when we first hooked up that he’d never had a girlfriend. And that’s obviously not from lack of female interest. It’s because he doesn’t want one.”

“Or maybe it’s because he hasn’t found the right person yet.” Aiko starts heading towards the campus coffee shop, and you follow her.

“Sure,” you say, getting in line. The cafe is crowded with students getting in their daily caffeination, inhaling sugary lattes and bitter espressos just to stay awake through their next class. Ah… college. “Or maybe he just. Doesn’t. Want. One.”

Aiko keeps arguing all the way up until you reach the cash register, where you realize you haven’t even decided on what to order yet.

“Hey there,” says the cashier, smiling sunnily. “What can I get for ya?”

You blink. He’s attractive. Very attractive, actually. Bleach blonde, a crooked grin that screams trouble in the best sort of way. Miya, says the little name plate pinned to his shirt. “I, uhh…”

“Take your time,” he says leaning forward like he’s about to tell you a secret. “Between you and me, we have an excellent mocha latte. Not too sweet, y’know?”

You find your manners. “Oh, um, yeah. That sounds great, actually.”

“One mocha latte, then?” he asks, picking up a cup, and you nod. “And to whom do I owe the pleasure of serving today?”

When you tell him your name, he smiles to himself and scrawls it on the cup. “Pretty.”

You flush and pay, hands shaking a little when you slide your card down the side of the machine. The cashier notices and shoots you a knowing look. Five minutes later, when you pick up your drink from the other side of the counter, you see not only your name written on the lid, but a phone number, too, along with a tiny winking face.

“What’d I tell you?” exclaims Aiko shrily when you leave the shop. “Any. Guy. Period.”

You shake your head in exasperation, but you can’t help but throw a final glance over your shoulder, meeting the eyes of the cute cashier one more time. Maybe Aiko does have a point.

That weekend, Suna’s stretched out on his couch, dangling his feet over the armrest and staring up at the ceiling. It’s one of those lazy Saturday afternoons, and usually he’d be enjoying his alone time. Not today, though. Today there’s something — someone — on his mind, and that someone is spelled y-o-u. His phone pings, and he snatches it up with embarrassing speed, groaning when he sees it’s just Atsumu.

“Bastard,” he mutters, not even bothering to open the message. Probably just asking for the O-chem lab answers.

Suna rolls over onto his stomach, pulling up your contact name. What he really wants to do is see you, but how is he supposed to do that without sounding weirdly desperate? Hey, he types out. Wanna come over and watch a movie? He pauses for a moment before adding, Pizza’s on me.

He buries his face in his hands and deletes the text. That makes it sound like he’s asking you out. Well, that’s what he does want to do, but you can’t know that. He’s fairly certain if you knew how he felt about you, you’d freak out. Girls don’t like to be tied down, he reminds himself. Suna groans again, grabbing two fistfuls of hair in irritation.

“Why are women so complicated?” he says aloud, letting the words echo in his empty apartment. He takes a couple seconds to close his eyes, take a deep breath, and unlock his phone again, this time settling on a simple Come over. Short, sweet, and to the point. Well, not exactly. That makes it sound like all he wants to do is sleep together, when he’d really rather just… talk. Spend time with you.

“Oh, God,” he mutters. “I’m so done for.”

It takes what seems like forever for you to arrive, breathless from biking, hair slightly mussed. Suna grins, biting his lip. You’re so beautiful, he thinks, pulling you in for a hungry kiss. Even if all he can get is the sex, then he’s sure as hell going to appreciate it. You smell like lavender laundry detergent, he notices when you press yourself into him, fumbling to close the door behind you without breaking the kiss.

“Well, hello there,” you laugh when he finally breaks away and draws in a shaking breath. “Somebody’s eager.”

Suna rolls his eyes. “As if. You just took so long to get here.”

You cock an eyebrow. “You texted me like half an hour ago.”

“Yeah, and you’re half an hour too late.”

You snort and hurl a pillow from the sofa at him. He catches it and smiles, taking your wrist and drawing you in for another messy, open-mouthed kiss.

“Sorry that I don’t have the power of teleportation,” you quip, laughing when he pulls you into the bedroom. Suna resolves to take his time with you today, undressing you carefully, trailing his lips down your sternum and collarbones, grinning to himself whenever you gasp. He almost catches himself saying “I love you” at one point as you cling to him, mumbling his name, but he placates himself with kissing you extra hard at the end instead, pulling you into his chest and falling back into the pillows.

Usually, you’d take a few minutes to lay in silence, tracing shapes in his skin, and he’d lean back with closed eyes, imagining what it would be like to be loved by you. Slow early morning kisses, skin on skin, whispering and giggling and everything cheesy he used to hate but now wishes he could experience with you. Today, though, you peel yourself off of him and grab your phone as soon as it buzzes, fingers flying in response to whoever had texted you.

“New boy toy?” he jokes, almost choking when you don’t immediately say no. Oh, shit. “You’re kidding.”

“Just a guy I met the other day,” you say casually. Suna stares, slack jawed. “Works at the coffee shop near the quad.”

“Coffee shop?” He furrows his brow. Doesn’t he know someone who works there? He internally scowls, digging into the back of his brain. Aran? Osamu?

“Mm,” you say, suppressing a smile as the nameless suitor sends another text. “His name’s Atsumu Miya.”

Suna’s heart nearly falls right out of his chest and cracks at his feet. “No.”

You look up, raising an eyebrow. “No?”

“Not him,” Suna says, forgetting himself, forgetting the nature of your relationship.

“I didn’t realize you were in charge of who I can and cannot be interested in,” you say bitingly.

Suna sits up. “I’m not. It’s just, Atsumu… he’s not your type.”

“You know him?”

“Yeah,” Suna says, thinking back on his days observing the Miya twins’ antics. “He’s not your kind of guy, trust me.”

“Pray tell then,” you say. Oh, fuck. You’re irritated. “Who exactly is my kind of guy?”

Me, he thinks. I’m your kind of guy. “I don’t know. Just trust me though, okay? Atsumu… he’s difficult.”

“Thanks, Suna,” you say, tone tinged with sarcasm. Suna cringes. You only ever call him by his surname when you’re upset with him. “But I think I can go out with whoever I want to go out with.”

“Fine.” The word tumbles out more harshly than he’d meant it to.

You stare at him in disbelief. “What, are you mad at me or something?”

Suna exhales heavily. “No, I’m not mad. It’s not like we’re dating or anything. I just wanted to give you a little guidance. As your friend.”

“As my friend?” you repeat. “My friend?”

Now it’s Suna's turn to be confused. “Are we not friends?”

“I don’t know, Suna,” you say, swinging your legs over the side of the bed, pulling your clothes on. “You tell me.”

“I’m not sure what you want me to say here,” he says, watching as you struggle to pull your shorts back on. He knows what he wants to say. No, we’re not friends. We should be together. Isn’t it obvious?

You huff, grabbing your bag and the water bottle you’d left behind the other day. “You know, I don’t really know either. Forget I ever said anything. I guess I just thought…”

You trail off and shake your head, heading towards the door. Suna scrambles out of bed to follow you, pulling on his pants as he hops down the hall on one leg. “What’s that?”

“I said forget it,” you call over your shoulder, trying to slam the door, but Suna catches your wrist. As you stare up at him, he thinks he sees your lip quivering, eyes shining with half-formed tears. “Let me go.”

“I’m serious,” Suna says. “What did you think?”

You draw in a deep breath, and for a second, Suna thinks you’re about to say the words he’s always wanted you to say. Then you look away. “Let. Me. Go.”

Slowly, Suna releases you from his grasp, and you stumble backwards, wiping your eyes on your sleeve.

“Don’t call me.”

“Wait, no —”

“Don’t call me, Suna!” you say loudly, before turning on your heel and speed walking down the stairs.

Oh. Oh. Suna stares in shock at the place you were just standing on his doorstep. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

When he heads back inside, head empty but for the single thought, I’ve just lost the best thing that ever happened to me, he glances at his phone on the counter. In an instant, he’s opening up his messages, pulling up Atsumu’s.

Met a cute girl LOL. Gonna bring her to that party on Friday.

Then, in a separate bubble — Btw: chem answers?

“And then he called me his friend,” you say angrily, handing Aiko the box of Oreos. The two of you are sprawled on the floor of her dorm room. “Just like we were two bros who got together to play XBox every once in a while, instead of two people who had literally just banged.”

Aiko takes a cookie before handing them back to you. “Asshole.”

“I mean, I know technically we were ‘friends with benefits,’” you say, stuffing an Oreo in your mouth. “But I guess I thought we could be something more. I thought there was no way he could kiss me like that, look at me like that without feeling something. Guess I was wrong.”

“Screw him,” Aiko says. “You’ve got boys lined up around the block, and he thinks he can treat you like rubbish? Absolute bullshit.”

“I don’t have boys ‘lined up around the block,’” you remind her, smiling regardless. “Just one.”

“And that one is hella cute!” Aiko says. “You’re way too cool to pine over some guy who thinks you’ll just answer his every beck and call without even committing to a relationship.”

You sigh. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s just… ack. I don’t know. Am I jumping to conclusions? He seemed like he wanted to talk to me more, but I kind of stormed off without saying anything.”

“Seems like he was pretty clear,” Aiko says with a shrug. “Your call, though. If I were you, I’d forget about him. Plus, you have Atsumu now. That’s a promising route.”

You smile down at the Oreos, thinking about the cheery bottle blonde. “Yeah… he invited me to a party this coming Friday.”

Aiko gives you a look and nudges your knee with her own. “You’d better wear that black dress.”

“You think?” you laugh, momentarily forgetting about Suna.

“Oh, definitely. Gotta look your best on the first date.”

“Right, and then after that I can just dress like a bum,” you joke. You purse your lips. “Rin might be there. Apparently he and Atsumu are pretty close.”

“Even better,” insists Aiko. “Make him suffer a little bit. He won’t like seeing you all dolled up on Atsumu Miya’s arm.”

“I’m not gonna try to make him jealous, Aiko,” you say, and Aiko shakes her head.

“No, I just think he needs to understand what he lost,” she says. “You don’t even have to pay attention to him at all, though. You should try and get to know Atsumu a little better.”

“Yeah, okay,” you say, before reaching down for another cookie. “Oh. We’re out.”

“Gas station run?”

“Gas station run.”

When Friday rolls around, you’ve successfully managed to avoid thinking about Suna the entire day. You have a calculus exam in the morning, and then a club meeting in the afternoon, and by the time you get done with everything it’s already time to get ready to leave for the party. It’s across town at someone’s loft apartment, so Atsumu offers to give you a ride, rolling up in a shiny Lexus, a sharp contrast from Suna’s old Chevy.

“Hey,” he says, getting out to open the door for you. “You look great.”

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” you say. “Although, I might prefer the work uniform.”

“Oh, please,” Atsumu says with a grin. “That apron does nothing to flatter my figure.”

“Mhm.” The ride there is a slightly awkward one, but that’s normal, you tell yourself. You’ve gotten so used to the easy, teasing camaraderie you and Suna have that you’re rusty in regards to flirting. Atsumu has a different sense of humor, too, nothing like the dry sarcasm Suna’s such an expert in. You shake your head. Stop thinking about him.

Even sitting next to a new guy, you can’t help but run last weekend’s drama over in your head. The past few months have been a jumble of mixed signals, and last Saturday was no different. How he tenderly brushed your hair from your face as he hovered over you, how he pulled you into his arms afterwards … how he seemed almost jealous when you mentioned Atsumu. Was it really jealousy? Exactly how much does Suna Rintarou care for you? You roll the numbers inside your head, trying to quantify the soft touches and lingering stares. He’s not easy to read; trying to understand Suna is like trying to decipher Greek without ever taking a single class.

Even trying to get a measure on how much you care for him is difficult. You definitely like him as more than a friend. The only reason you agreed to the whole friends-with-benefits thing in the first place was because of a little crush that grew, that fed on that intimacy… but you’re not so sure now.

“Here we are,” says Atsumu, jolting you from your contemplation as he pulls up alongside the curb. When you climb out of the car, he takes you by the hand, flashing you a quick smile. Your heart trips over itself, and you smile back. “Let’s do this.”

Suna doesn’t show up to the party. He spends most of Friday busying himself at home, paying off a couple electricity bills, cleaning out the fridge. He even does a load of laundry. That’s how bored he is. By the time the clock strikes eight, he feels as though he’s Swiffered every single kitchen tile, folded every shirt, and wiped down every counter in the entire apartment, all to avoid stewing over you and him and all the ways he keeps messing up. But after doing everything on his to-do list and watching a movie and cooking his own dinner (unheard of!) he finds himself pacing around the living room, biting at his nails and thinking about you. More specifically, you and Atsumu. He hopes you’re not wearing that little dress you wore to the club with him a couple months ago. Not that you don’t look great in it — you do, and that’s the issue. The better you look, the more likely Suna will never get a chance to be with you again.

To be fair, he’s not entirely sure how much of a chance he’s ever had with you. You’re incredible, plain and simple. Gorgeous, intelligent, the best player two on every video game he’s ever played with you. You’re not especially adept at the games themselves; no, there’s just something about you. There’s always just been something about you he can’t seem to find anywhere else.

“Damn it,” Suna grunts aloud, flopping down on the couch. It’s nearing half past eleven now. He wonders what you’re doing. Dancing to some shitty music in some crowded living room. Sipping a can of cheap liquor. Letting Atsumu touch your waist, his hand dipping lower and lower until —

Suna buries his face in the couch cushion. He’s usually not one to let his imagination run away with him, but tonight seems to be one of many recent exceptions. If only there was a way to know where he stands with you, or at least where you stand with Atsumu…

Well, there is a way, actually. Almost of its own accord, his hand inches towards his phone, sliding it open and somehow finding its way into his Snapchat. Fingers shaking, Suna clicks on Osamu’s story. It’s dimly lit, a mass of bodies, loud, drunk guys and scantily clad girls. The music is too loud, even through the phone. Suna squints at the screen — there’s Aran, even Kita’s there, quietly sitting in the corner, but no sight of — Suna’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. Because there you are, and you’re not alone. You’re sitting on Atsumu’s lap, but he can’t see your expression because Atsumu is kissing you sloppily, and — oh, God — it looks like you’re kissing him back.

And you’re wearing the fucking dress.

“Damn,” Osamu says in the background. “Looks like he’s getting some tonight.”

Suna throws his phone across the room like it’s a grenade, staring down at his empty hands in disbelief. This can’t be happening. Not to him. Not to you.

For the first time, Suna Rintarou thinks he understands what it really means to want someone. Not in a sexual way, but in the deepest sense of the word. Want. He wants you, and he’s pretty sure he’s never wanted anyone or anything quite so much in his life.

All of a sudden, before his brain even has a chance to catch up, Suna finds himself shrugging on a jacket and snatching his keys from the table, dashing out the door like he’s being chased. If he leaves now, he thinks, starting the car and nearly slamming the door on his foot, he can get to the party before you leave. And then, well, then he’s not quite sure what he’ll do, but he’ll do something.

Again, though, it seems as if the universe might be against him, because there’s an accident on the highway and it takes twice as long to get across town as it should. Suna cusses loudly over the incessant honking and chews on the inside of his cheek until it bleeds. When the traffic lets up and he finally pulls up to the apartment complex, parallel parking in a spot that’s probably illegal, he races up the stairs and into the loft, grabbing the first partygoer he sees. The poor kid’s plastered beyond belief and stares at Suna like he’s an extraterrestrial, eyes glassy.

“You see a girl leave here? ‘Bout this tall, probably left with some douchey looking blonde dude?”

The kid blinks, hard and slow, before nodding. “Yeah, man, you just missed her. That your chick or somethin’? Because she was sucking face with —”

Suna spins on his heel before the kid gets a chance to finish his sentence. He’s lucky Suna doesn’t deck him the head, he’s so irritated.

“Sucking face,” he mumbles, climbing back into the car. He has the route to your house memorized (although he’s not sure how), and he’s pretty sure he breaks about twenty traffic laws trying to get there, so it takes significantly less time to arrive, but to Suna, it feels like an eternity. How did he ever sleep soundly at night knowing other guys had a shot at you before this? He doesn’t know, and he hopes he never has to worry about it again. Not after tonight.

He gets there just as Atsumu’s pulling out of the driveway. Suna flashes him a mental middle finger and resolves to kick his ass later. No time for that right now. You’re still standing on the front porch, and when Suna stumbles out of the car, you turn towards him, mouth agape.

“Rin? What are you—”

“Give me a chance.” He’s breathless, eyes wide and hair whipping around his face in the cool breeze. His heartbeat pounds in his ears like it’s about to burst blood vessels.

“Huh?”

“Give me a chance,” he repeats, reaching forward to take your hand. Your palm is cold against his. “I can do so much better, I promise.”

You furrow your brows. “What in the world are you talking about, Rin?”

The dam breaks. The dam breaks, and everything — the longing, the frustration, everything — comes pouring out in a waterfall of rushing words he doesn’t even have time to think over before they splash at your feet.

“I can do so much better than Atsumu. He doesn’t know you. I know you, and I, well, I’ve liked you since forever, okay? I know your favorite color and your birthday and which Chinese place you like to get takeout from on Saturday nights.” Suna clears his throat. “I know that you like to be hugged from behind and that you hate it when people see you cry. I know so many things about you, and I want to know more.”

“Rin—”

He holds up a hand. “Just listen. I know we’re just fuck buddies, or friends with benefits, or whatever the hell you want to call it, but I want to change that. You mean so much more to me than the sex. God, even if we never slept together again, I would still love you.”

You stare at him. “Love?”

Suna swallows hard. “Yeah, fuck it. Love. I love you. Whatever that means to you, it means to me. I love your stupid jokes and your stupid laugh. To be honest, I’m so in love it feels like I’ll never love anyone else.”

He stops to take a deep breath and a shaky laugh. “Pathetic, right? I know it is. I can’t help it. I’m well aware that Atsumu is way more charming and outgoing, and I was probably wrong when I said he wasn’t your type… but I just need to know if I have even the smallest chance of winning you over.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then another one. You’re gazing at him, head cocked, and the seconds tick by. He still has your hand in his, growing warmer via body heat. Suna feels himself grow increasingly nervous at your expression, curious and almost apathetic — until a wide smile breaks across your face. You laugh, and he thinks it must be the best sound he’s ever heard.

“You weren’t wrong.”

“What?”

“He’s not my type,” you say. “We didn’t click.”

“But — I saw, uh — Osamu’s story,” Suna stammers. “Sucking face.”

“Sucking face?” You squint in confusion before chuckling again. “Ah. Yeah, I kissed him. It was part of some stupid game. He’s kind of bad at it.”

“Atsumu’s a bad kisser?”

“Well,” you say, drawing the word out. “I wouldn’t say bad. It’s just… you’re better.”

Suna’s silent for a second, letting the words ricochet around his brain. He’s better. He’s a better kisser. It was just a game. You’re not into Atsumu. “So… does that mean…?”

“I love you, too.” You smile, and it’s not like your usual cocky grin. It’s sweet and almost… shy.

“You love me, too?” Suna repeats in utter shock. He hadn’t expected to get this far.

“That’s what I just said,” you say. “What are you, a parrot? Speaking of which, though, I think that whole speech was the most I’ve ever heard you talk.”

Suna doesn’t respond. Instead, he takes a step closer and pulls you in for a hug. A real hug, not like the hesitant embrace you’d given him on his birthday, or the side hug he gave you after running into you at the grocery market a few weeks ago. No, this is a true, bona fide hug, and he translates everything he’s ever wanted to tell you but couldn’t into his arms wrapping around your waist.

“So… wanna come in and watch a movie?”

A little while later, Suna’s stretched out on your mattress with you between his legs, chin resting on the top of your head. You’ve changed out of your dress and wiped the makeup from your face, and Suna catches you yawning in the corner of his eye. There’s a trashy romcom droning on your laptop at the foot of the bed. To any outside onlooker, the scene is mundane, just a typical couple enjoying each other’s company. To Suna, though, this is paradise.

It’s almost funny. It’s funny how, a week ago, Suna was a boy pining for a girl he thought he had no chance with. He looked at you and saw something unattainable, someone who would only ever want him temporarily. (And, unbeknownst to him, you felt the same way.) He experienced an overwhelming amount of want, heart knotting in on itself and twisting and turning until it pushed him over the edge, forcing him to confront his own desires. His own inadequacies.

It’s funny how love is what everyone longs for, but it’s also the hardest reward to earn. It’s the most uncomfortable, heart-wrenching, nerve-wracking, anxiety-inducing pathway to happiness Suna’s ever seen. But still… he’d do it all over again if he had to. The months of headaches, the overthinking. It’s worth it. You’re worth it.

Oh, well. What can he say? Suna leans down and presses a featherlight kiss to your temples, and you tilt your head up to smile at him. Love’s a funny thing.

Fortunately, Suna’s always down for a good joke.

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helaisthequeen · 2 years

Text

Without You - Chapter Two

Ch 1

The link to AO3

Tw. Major character death, grieving

I hope you enjoy!

After the successful sim Tony decided to turn in for the night, he knew he was going to dream about Peter so he could only hope that it would be one of those rare occasions when it was a good dream rather than a nightmare haunting him, because ever since he lost the love of his life he had been having nightmares. He would see Peter's disappointed face right after their fight the previous night, who would later be the face who would haunt his dreams.

He would dream about every fight they had, all the mistakes that he had made and every dream was different from the other but this one was a recurring one. It was the morning before it happened.

~~~~

“Hi sweetie, the usual?” The woman behind the counter asked. “No thanks, I think I’m gonna try a cinnamon latte with a triple espresso shot, please.” The older man replied while looking up at the menu. When he looked down he saw him.

“Peter? You’re working today?”

“Yeah well some people need to work to make a living, you know. Not everyone is born a billionaire.” Peter said annoyed, thinking about their fight last night, which ended in Peter taking the car and going to his aunt May’s apartment.

“Well I’m sorry for saying what I said. You know I didn’t mean it.” The older man said while paying for his drink.

“Well I think you did.” The young man said. “Now I’m working, can we take this at home after my shift ends.” He later added.

“I’ll see you home after noon then? You do get off at 12 PM right?” Tony asked him a little hesitantly.

“You did know I worked today.” The young man shook his head in disbelief.

“Yeah, well you wrote it in our calendar, plus I know your schedule in and out.” Tony stated. “And I’m a little obligated to go here because you’re my fiancé, and this place makes the best coffee in town.”

“Thanks Tony,” The owner said smiling. “Can you guys just work things through so Peter can stop moping when he’s working.” May said, while finishing his drink. “Here's your latte Tony.” She handed him his drink and Tony thanked her, to which she just nodded and started to take another customer’s order.

“I’ll see you at home Pete.” Tony sipped his latte and said goodbye to Peter’s aunt.

~~~~

The thing is, they never got to have that talk and work things through because when Tony got home he got a call from Steve saying that there has come up a new world-wide threat by the name of Thanos, who wants to decrease half of the universe's population. Remembering his vision from 2015 Tony put on his nano casing and tapped it twice and his Iron Man suit covered his body and he took off. By the time Peter got home he found that his fiancé was not there.

He picked up his phone to call him but before he could his spidey sense told him something was very wrong, so quickly he put on his suit and started to swing out into the city. But when he saw the giant spaceship he just stopped swinging and landed in a park, that’s when he saw Tony in his suit a couple of blocks away from him. He started to swing again and landed right beside Bruce and some other guy he didn’t recognize.

“Peter?” Bruce looked surprised at seeing Peter. “Good thing you are here, the more the merrier.” Bruce looked like he was trying to summon the hulk but it did not work.

“What is happening? Who are those guys? And who is he?” Peter asked, pointing at Strange. Peter got into a fighting pose as Bruce answered his questions.

“Oh that’s Strange.” Bruce said.

“What’s strange?” He looked confused at what Bruce had just said.

“What no. His name is Strange.”

“His name is.. Strange?” Peter was so confused at this point. But nonetheless Peter reached out his hand for Strange to shake but he just rolled his eyes and started with his spells.

“Oh okay, no hand shake. No problem. Um.. well my name is Peter. Peter Parker.” “It’s Dr. Strange, not just Strange.”

“Oh, we are using our made up names, I’m Spider Man.”

“Stark, where did you find this one?” Stephen said in an annoyed tone.

“Um excuse you! He’s my fiancé, so treat him with respect. Oh right I forgot, you don’t have any!” Tony sounded very annoyed at this point.

~~~~

As Peter tried to attack Thanos but instead got his ass kicked and thrown into Strange, “Honey are you okay?” Tony flew down to check on him but the young man just told him he was fine and that they needed to focus on the plan. Tony looked hurt but did as he was told and as he took off he started to shoot at the big purple man. Just when they were so close at getting the gauntlet off Quill had to go and punch Thanos causing him to get out of their clutch.

Their plan would have succeeded if Dr. Strange didn’t give Thanos his Time Stone to save Tony’s life. But he did and after the stone was put on his gauntlet Thanos disappeared through the portal.

After Thanos was gone Peter came running towards Tony to see if he was okay, “Oh my god. Tony, you’re bleeding.” He put his hand over the wound to stop the bleeding but Tony just removed his hands. “I’m okay, don’t worry about me. I care more about you.” The older man cupped his cheeks and looked for injuries, turning his head left to right. “I’m fine Tony.” Peter said. “I don’t want to fight anymore, you’re hurt. I could have lost you. I don’t want to lose you.” A tear rolled down his cheeks and Tony just wiped it away with his thumb. “You won’t lose me, I promise.” Tony hugged Peter the best he could without twisting the knife too much.

The next thing that happens is Mantis turning to dust. After her there was Drax, Quill and then before Dr. Strange turned into dust he said, “There was no other way.” But what Tony did not expect was Peter- his one true love slowly turning to dust. All he could do was grip him tight while Peter was trying desperately to not die. “I don’t wanna go. I don’t wanna go Tony. Please.. Please… I love you.” Peter said in his dying words and all Tony could do is say I love you back and then he was gone.

~~~~

He woke up in panic realizing that it had only been a dream, “I will bring you back my love.” He said as he sat up from his bed. He knew it was no idea to even try to go back to sleep so he checked the time- it was 5:43 am. After a shower and a fresh cup of coffee Tony started to drive to the Avengers compound and when he got there he was met by Steve.

Tony went to the trunk to open it up and he brought out a brand new shield for Steve. “This time don’t break it!” He handed the shield to Steve, “And I mean it. I don’t even know how it’s possible to break it.” He added.

“I won’t, promise. And thank you for making me a new one, it was about time.” Steve and Tony started to walk to the door and entered the code to come in.

~~~~

After a couple of hours of constructing the quantum tunnel, the team emerged with the advanced tech suits and the time-space GPS. “See you in a minute.” Natasha said while looking at Steve.

#starker #tony stark x peter parker #major character death #grieving #dealing with grief #Without you fic #Toni writes #hope you like <3

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kai-uh-arcadian · 3 years

Text

Ackersmith Cafe

Pieck x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k Cw: minor cursing Disclaimer! This is my first story/fic/head canon type thing ever, so feedback is much appreciated! ( :

enjoy!

* Lots of wholesome fluff ( : <3 *

Ships involved: Pieck x Reader, Hitchani, Eruri, Yumihisu, Implied EreMika, Implied Niccolo x Sasha

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

⁃ Ackersmith cafe, a quaint, dark academia type coffee shop

⁃ Leading local competitor “mom and pop shop” of the Shiganshina county against Starbucks, Dunkin’ Donuts and Bakers Dozen

⁃ Used to be called “Smith Cafe” owned Grandma and Grandpa Smith before Mr. Erwin took over and married Mr.Levi

⁃ You and your parents have been going here since you could remember! Even before Mr.Erwin won his battle against cancer but lost his arm

⁃ Even though you’re in college now, it’s still walking distance from Paradis University and the neighbor university—Liberio University

⁃ You introduced your college friends, Sasha, Mikasa, and Annie to this place

⁃ You go here almost everyday to study and do uni homework

⁃ “Mr. Erwin!” You announced every time you walk in with Annie, Sasha, and Mikasa as the bells of the cafe ring

⁃ “(Y/nnnnnnn!)” he says waving his bionic arm that Hange, the other barista, made for him

⁃ (Hange chooses to work here every other weekend as a way to “relax” from their researching job, crazy right?)

⁃ “Hey twerp, when did you get so tall?”Mr. Levi flashes a smile from behind the counter, remembering you getting hoisted up on your dads shoulder while ordering a hot chocolate from when he was a trainee here a few years ago

⁃ “Mr. Levi, it’s been years since I was your height” you chuckle glancing at Mikasa, Sasha, and Annie stifling back a laugh at they witness this interaction

⁃ “Tch. You brats, I’ll kick you out any second!” he jokingly gets defensive

⁃ “Levi” Mr. Erwin puts a hand on the small of Mr. Levi’s back “Be nice to my favourite and most important customers! You’ll drive out our daily revenue” he laughs

⁃ “Yeah yeah whatever. The usual, brats?” Mr. Levi rolls his eyes holding back a soft smile

⁃ “Yep!” You all say in unison

⁃ “Should’ve guessed” as his rings up your guys’ total “I’ll bring it right out for you guys” he says before disappearing into the brewing station

⁃ You, Sasha, Mikasa, and Annie go to your usual booth right by the front window of the cafe

⁃ You 4 begin to pull out your computers and begin to do homework

⁃ Sasha and Mikasa are typing away on a shared Google Slide for a project they were both assigned to for their ENGL 2273 class they both happened to have together while you and Annie are looking out the window dozing off

⁃ “(Y/N),” Mikasa says grabbing your attention “Do your work.”

⁃ “Alright alright” you begin opening up a blackboard assignment your Professor assigned to you

⁃ “Slacking off again (L/N)?” Mr. Levi’s voice startles you as you look up

⁃ “No!” You shyly smile at him as you pretend to type away at the assignment

⁃ “Tch. Anyways, a white chocolate mocha latte with a glazed donut for you Annie, a hot, unsweetened, caramel latte for you Mikasa, a bacon, egg, and cheese croissant with a cinnamon dolce frappe for you Sasha, and a matcha frappe for you (Y/N). Anything else brats?” He smiles as he hands everything to you guys

⁃ “No thank you!” You say in unison once again before he nods and walks away

⁃ As you sip on your delectable drink, Annie’s face lights up and it’s not from the donut (this time)

⁃ “Eh? Annie, what’s got you smiling?” Sasha says nervously chewing on her croissant at Annie’s surprised face

⁃ “Oh.” Annie’s face goes back to the typical stoic look “nothing, it’s just I know those people about to walk in” she gestures to a tall, muscular blonde man, a tall, brunette who is visibly sweating, a dirty blonde man with an undercut, and breathtaking black haired women with languid eyes and a perpetual soft smile

⁃ “Huh? How?” Mikasa looks up from her work and towards the girl sitting to her left shoulder, peeking a glance at the group about to walk in

⁃ “Eh, I went to Marley high school with them. I had a few classes with each of them throughout the years but never really interacted too much. They aren’t mean or anything— I just recognize them. I think they go to Liberio university” she says taking another bite of her donut

⁃ “Her names Pieck Finger” Annie said with a mouth full of donut directly at you “I’m guessing you were wondering” she smirks

⁃ Your face heats up. Did Annie notice you were staring at her?! Oh no… if Annie noticed… did this mean that Pieck girl also notice?!”

⁃ “No no” you laughed it off, “I wasn’t wondering I was just staring off into space!!”

⁃ This earns a chuckle out of Mikasa, she read you like a book

⁃ The Liberio squad orders as your little Paradis squad begins to pack up after being there for about hour and a half

⁃ “Annie?” The muscular blonde says from a few tables over

⁃ Annie lights up a bit at the seemingly familiar voice coming from behind her

⁃ “Reiner?” Annie walks over to the table as you, Mikasa, and Sasha continue to pack up

⁃ “Oh! These are my friends (Y/N), Mikasa, and Sasha. We usually come here almost everyday” annie says as each of you light up at the sound of your name

⁃ “Nice to meet you all! This is Bertolt, Porco, Pieck, and I’m Reiner”

You 4 wave to the Liberio 4 and you make direct eye contact with Pieck, she smiles softly at you

⁃ “It was nice seeing you all again, we were just on our way out” Annie waves to the group

⁃ “It was nice meeting you!” You, Mikasa, and Sasha say in unison

⁃ You made eye contact with Pieck once again before exiting

The next day

⁃ you text the group chat during your last class of the day “Ackersmiths?

⁃ Annie replies “Hitch nagged at me this morning claiming she deserves more attention so I'm taking her on a date tonight. ”

⁃ Mikasa replies “I’m being forced to meet Niccolo today😐”

⁃ “Okay so you all hate me😩I’ll go alone” you respond to the group chat

⁃ “Yeah that’s exactly what we mean (Y/N)😪😪😪” Sasha replies

⁃ “Yeah whatever.😫 I’ll be over later tonight and bring you guys your usuals if you want” you reply

⁃ “You’re a saint!🛐” Sasha says

⁃ “Sasha’s dorm as usual? I’ll be there around 8 o’clock” Annie says

⁃ “Perfect, I’ll see you guys then, i know you guys love me🥰🥰🥰🥰” you sent the text and began walking to Ackersmith’s

⁃ you walk in and greet Mr.Levi and Mr.Erwin like always “Mr. Leviiiiii! Mr. Erwin!!! It’s your favourite customer!”

⁃ “Oh? I didn’t see Sasha walk in though?” Erwin banters back as you walk towards the counter

⁃ “Yeah yeah, be glad or else you wouldn’t have any pastries left to sell today” you laugh “could I get the usual please?”

⁃ “Of course! I’ll have Levi bring it out to you in a second” Erwin beams and heads towards the machines

⁃ You begin to head to the table usually sit at when you aren’t accompanied by your usual gang but it seems to be taken

⁃ “Grandpa Arlert!?” You exclaim

⁃ Distracted by your excitement, that ethereal black haired Pieck, walks in and sits at a table closest to the entrance by the window. She instantly notices you chatting with (in her eyes) a random sweet old man

⁃ “(Y/N)!” He begins to get up

⁃ “How’s Armin doing? I haven’t heard much from him while he’s been in France but Mikasa tells me so much, maybe too much, about Eren’s studies abroad”

⁃ “He’s doing well, I miss seeing you 4 all the time. I’m about to be on my way but come see me anytime kiddo” he pats you on the head

⁃ “I’ll come by this weekend okay Grandpa Arlert?” He nods as you sit down and pull out your computer

⁃ Pieck is gazing out the window but every now and then she glances at you. She can’t help but find you adorable when you focus on something— you furrow your brows a bit, squint, and bite your bottom lip

⁃ As Pieck is totally engrossed in your cute little studying quirks, she quickly averts her eyes and your head snaps in her direction as the entrance bells chimes and a couple walks in

⁃ You focus on the couple as the blonde one in a flowy pink dress pushes the stroller to nearby table and the taller brunette one in slacks and a button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow goes to order (for the blonde one as well, you assume)

⁃ The gears in your head are shifting as you begin to figure out who the hell that couple could be as they are SO familiar to you

⁃ Then. A lightbulb! “Historia?!” You say to the women about three empty small tables away

⁃ (It’s a local favourite, how could you not see people you know here?)

⁃ (Y/N)?! You get up and start walking over to Historia’s table accompanied by a stroller

⁃ (Y/N)? The tall brunette walks over with a strawberry pastry and a plain croissant

⁃ “Ahh, Ymir!” You exclaim embracing her

⁃ “And who might this little one be?” You question while lovingly waving to inside the stroller which held a baby with dark hair, freckles, and bright blue eyes

⁃ Somehow(?) a perfect mix of Ymir and Historia

⁃ “This is baby Freida” (after her late sister) Historia grabs the about 7-month baby girl and gives her a kiss on her chubby cheek

⁃ “Sooo this is what you’ve guys have been doing since we left high school. I always wondered where you guys took off! You both completely went AWOL “ you chuckle while holding your index finger out as baby Freida grasps it

⁃ “Yeah, after high school I decided to take a gap year and Historia decided to become a CNA, I’m working on my realtor license” Ymir says taking a chomp out of the croissant

⁃ “I’m so happy for you guys! Seeing you guys and plus this cute little one just made my day. Could I hold her?” Your eyes looks as if they’ve been possessed by literal stars

⁃ “Of course!” Historia gingerly hands you baby Frieda and to your surprise, little Frieda giggles while you rub your cheek to the baby’s chubby one smiling

⁃ While this interaction is happening, Pieck has her eyes GLUED to you

⁃ Her heart is bursting at the seams right now. From seeing you interact with the sweet old man you refer to as Grandpa Arlert to you holding a cute ass child AH! Her heart IS exploding

⁃ It’s like she’s emitting a pink aura out of her body and little hearts are circling her as well

⁃ You hand baby Frieda back “it was nice chatting with you guys, text me if you guys are ever back in town!” And with that you retreat back to your original spot

⁃ Hyper focused on what you’re supposed to be doing on your screen you’re interrupted by Levi’s booming voice

⁃ “Hey brat, sorry it took so long. The blender got jammed, probably from all the stupid ice it took to make your dumb frappe”

⁃ “Also, you’re probably too oblivious to notice but, don’t look now, there’s a dark haired girl by the window who has been making googly eyes at you the moment she walked in”

⁃ (WINGMAN LEVI?!?!?!)

⁃ You nonchalantly glide your eyes over to where he was talking about and he referring to Pieck

⁃ THE PIECK FINGER from yesterday

⁃ Your face turns red as you grab the drink from Mr.Levi and begin to stutter

⁃ “I— uh-“

⁃ “Don’t think I didn’t notice your little interaction yesterday” he scoffs hiding a smirk

⁃ …is he referring to me staring at Pieck from the window????

⁃ (That sounds creepy but in an innocent young teen/adult puppy love way)

⁃ “If you’d like, I can send a drink over from you. She ordered the weirdest frappe-combo-shit yesterday so I remember it. It was a matcha frappe with strawberry purée and strawberry drizzle with matcha dusted on top of the whip cream…” he scoffed “but what do I know? I’m just an old married man”

⁃ WINGMAN MR. LEVI!!!!!!

⁃ “Yes! That would be perfect, I trust your gut Mr.Levi!” You hand him your card and he smiles as he begins to walk away

⁃ At this point you’re nervous. Yes you’re looking at your computer but you CANNOT think about anything else but how Pieck will react

⁃ Does she have a boyfriend? That (stupid) undercut guy?

- The tall sweaty guy?

⁃ Or maybe the muscular guy

⁃ No no, she looks too smart to date a meathead

- She seems too outgoing to date a super nervous guy

⁃ Or a seemingly fuckboy

⁃ But who am I to judge her preference?

-Is she even gay?

- She probably has a girlfri--

⁃ “Thank you for the drink” a sweet voice danced in between your clouded thoughts

⁃ You look up and you meet eyes with the one and only, Pieck

⁃ “May I sit here?” She gestures at the empty seat in front of you

⁃ (Mr. Levi’s plan worked?)

⁃ “Of course!” You shyly smile rubbing the back on your nape

⁃ “Your names (Y/N), right?” She took a sip of the drink

⁃ “Hmm.. Doing a bit of stalking I see. How’d you know my exotic drink of choice?” Those heavy words came out so smoothly you could barely react to the accusation

⁃ “Oh! Uh— no it’s not that” you instantly became flustered

⁃ The laugh she let out was so beautiful that it made you stop in your tracks

⁃ A bit of the puree was on her lips, which made them glossy and her head tilted back which let her flowy silky black hair waterfall off her shoulder

⁃ A bit of confidence shot through you

⁃ “Actually, a little birdy told ME that you were the one “stalking” and they decided I should do something to get your attention” you raised an eyebrow

⁃ Pieck’s angelic laughter came to an instant halt and her face become the same colour of the little bit of strawberry purée on her bottom lip

⁃ Now YOU were the one giggling at her reaction

⁃ “Don’t worry don’t worry! You waved your hands in a surrendering motion “in all honestly Mr. Levi said he saw you looking at me today and remembered your ..interesting.. drink from yesterday and also remembered about how I was looking at you when you walked in with your friends and suggested I send a drink over to you” you reassured

⁃ Oh shit

⁃ She giggled at how red your face got after realized what you had just told her

⁃ “Well if you’re going to be honest I will too, I thought you were the cutest thing yesterday. Today really solidified that thought because I mayyyy… have noticed you with that cute little baby” she gave you a languid smile fiddling with her hair nervously

⁃ Taken a bit aback from this

⁃ Are you hearing this correctly???

⁃ “Could I possibly get your number? Maybe later this week we could go on a proper date or something?”

⁃ “I’d love nothing more than that, (Y/N) she gives to the sweetest most genuine smiles there can be

After you exchanged phone numbers, you and Pieck spent about 2 more hours there talking about everything and yet nothing at the same time. You both shared pointless stories about each other’s upbringing, majors, fun stories about your mutual friend Annie, your own friends, and little sarcastic shots at one another here and there before walking her back to her dorm at Liberio University (about a 30 minute walk back to Paradis University)

She thanked you for the fun night by giving you a small peck on the cheek.

When you both returned to your assigned dorms

Pieck spent the night fangirling about you to Porco, Reiner, and a 4th year named Zeke

While you spent your night fangirling to Annie, Sasha, and Mikasa

“Oh (Y/N)!? Speaking about great things you find at the cafe, where’s the drinks? ” Sasha asked after your little spiel about Pieck

“Shit!”

Ackersmith Cafe has always held a special place in your heart but the love you’ve had for the place just got deeper.

sorry if the ending sucks but lmk your thoughts!!!!!! (:

- Kyah

#pieck finger x reader #pieck headcanons #pieck x reader #attack on titan #pieck #pieck finger #attack on titan fanfiction #pieck x you #pieck x y/n #wingman LEVIIIIII #pieck supremacy #attack on titan fanfic

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ill-be-your-honey-bri · 4 years

Text

Call Me

I honestly am not a hundred percent sure where this fic had developed from but I thought it was an interesting plot that could have been manipulated many ways. and of course your girl went put smut mode on this one.

That being said, the only warnings I have for you is smut, smut, smut, and some more smut.

Don’t forget to like, repost, comment. You feed back means everything to me and I love seeing what you all like and don't fancy.

Please enjoy and all my love,

I present to you, Escort Harry.

You were sitting at your dinette on the balcony of your penthouse, exceptionally frustrated. Sipping on your now cold coffee and pulling a cigarette from the gold case that was housing it. You lit the end with the matching gold lighter, slamming it on the table as you inhaled the nicotine to calm your nerves. You expelled the smoke from your lungs with an exaggerated sigh before picking up your phone to re-evaluate the email you just received.

Ms. Y/L/N,

You are cordially invited to the annual Forbes fundraiser for young entrepreneurs, blah blah blah…

Being that you own your own major company that has been featured in Forbes, blah blah blah.

We are expecting your attendance along with your plus one…

A plus one…

Well you are fucked now, aren’t you? You couldn’t remember the last time you had a ‘plus one’. You, this woman, fiercely independent, who built a company from the ground up on your own, and now you are expected to have a date to a fundraiser that you are being forced to go to.

You did the only thing you could think of at that moment.

You pull up Claudia’s number in your contacts, closing your silk robe over your nightgown while you put the phone to your ear and inhale the last puff from your cigarette before stamping it out in the marble ashtray.

The phone rings as you walk through the French doors from your balcony into your dining room, taking the last sip of your coffee before placing your mug on the dark mahogany dining room table.

“Hello, Y/N. To what do I owe the pleasure on this lovely morning at, fuck me, five forty?”

“Thank fucking god you’re awake!”

“Well, I wasn’t but —”

“Did you get that Forbes email too?” You put your phone on speaker while you pulled the email up for the millionth time that morning.

“I did,” Claudia said around a yawn.

“What is this shit with a fucking plus one? When has that ever been a requirement for these things?!”

You could hear her rustling around her bed, “I’m sure some man put it together and wanted to make sure everyone and the pope saw his new arm candy.”

“It’s ridiculous! Some of us don’t have time to have a ‘plus one’!” You sat on your suede sectional, curling your bare feet under your bum. Your long haired black cat jumped up and cuddled into your lap, both melting into comfort.

“I lay claim to Derek, he already said he would go with me.”

You began to stroke your cat’s ear, “Yeah well, you’re fucking Derek, so…”

“I can’t help that your assistant is young and hot, chickee. And so fucking good in bed…” Claudia began to stretch, letting out a moan.

“Thanks for that. Now what the hell am I supposed to do?”

“Don’t you have any friends? Second cousins?”

You stopped your petting, your fur baby giving out a little mew in protest, “First of all, ew. No family. Second of all, I don’t have time for friends. I have you because we have worked together for years.” You let out a frustrated sigh and went back to petting the angel on your lap. “What the fuck am I going to do, Claud?”

You could hear Claudia clunking around her kitchen, attempting to make her latte, cursing at her espresso maker. “Why not hire someone?”

You stopped your petting again, Lady getting annoyed and deciding to jump off your lap. “What do you mean, hire someone?”

“You know,” Claudia hissed after burning her tongue on her hot beverage, “like one of those sexy male escorts. You pay them and they are a nice piece of jewelry for the night.”

“Where do you come up with this shit?”

“That old bag that is always at these events, donates a shit ton and then falls asleep halfway through dinner? You know the one.”

You hum in understanding because you do know the one. Her overuse of minks and emeralds at every event, her hackneyed Chanel No. 5. Oh, and her dentures fell into her champagne flute last year. Yeah, that one.

“Do you really think that the strapping young hunk with her is actually her significant other?”

“I thought that it could be her grandson, maybe.”

“Oh hell no! She hired the boy! I hope she got her money’s worth, if you know what I’m saying...”

Claudia began to laugh as you started to make gagging noises. You sat there, thinking of any other option and you really couldn’t think of one.

“Let me do my research and I will email you the links. But babe, relax. We will figure something out, yeah? You can take my little brother if you need to.”

“No offense Claud, but I don’t really want to present to an event with a 17 year old and be labeled a pedophile… Thank you for helping me, truly.”

“Any time, sweets. Now go mastuarbate before you get ready for work. Got a big meeting today and need you to be calm and relaxed for it.”

“Jesus, Claud!”

“See you soon!” Claudia blowing you a kiss over the line before she hangs up.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You walked into your office with your go to Starbucks order in hand. Derek was sitting on the couch that was off to the side of your office, set up as a little meeting area with a set of armchairs and a coffee table in the center. Derek was sipping on his green smoothie and setting up your agenda for the day.

“I don’t know how you drink that shit. You’re basically grazing in the pasture,” as you take another sip of your overpriced corporate beverage.

“It is an energy boosting smoothie, thank you very much. It’s from the local smoothie place around the corner, it’s family owned.”

“Well good for you bud, but for me, it is about convenience and there are at least 50 Starbucks stores from home to here. A beautiful marketing plan if you ask me.” You smiled before taking another sip then placing it in its rightful place on your desk as you sit to turn on your computer and start your day. Derek stands up and places your daily planner in front of you.

“You have that big meeting today with the business partners. Claudia said she will be here in half an hour to help prep. And I have a list of escort services for you.” He had a folder in hand extended towards you.

You peered up at him, “Fucking Claudia.”

He began to smile and give a light chuckle, “Fucking Claudia. She never knows when to keep her mouth shut. There are a few men she had picked out as well, said she ‘knows what you like’. She will email you the links to their profiles.”

And sure enough, you get an email from her with an eggplant emoji as the subject of the email. You quickly exit the email, pulling up the documents you need for the meeting.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After getting home from dealing with arrogant, self centered pricks in meetings all day, you knew you needed to treat yourself to a relaxing bubble bath.

You ignored dinner, going straight to your wine rack and grabbed the first bottle handy. You filled the glass and began sipping at the sweet nectar as you were walking to the master bedroom. You padded your way to the en-suite to begin filling the claw foot bathtub. You added some vanilla rose bath melts and let the aroma fill your lungs before returning back to your bedroom.

You step into your walk-in closest to begin undressing, putting your jewelry in their rightful place and hanging the garments that need to go to the dry cleaners. After stripping, you throw on your silk robe and pull your hair up before walking back to the bathroom. You grab your phone and wine along the way, finding your ‘bubble bath’ playlist, which you connected to the Bluetooth that you had installed in your bathroom.

You put your wine and phone on the shelf next to the tub and hung the silk robe before melting into the warm embrace of the milky water. Lady had hopped up onto the counter to keep you company.

You close your eyes, take a deep breath and lean your head on to the bath pillow before slowly exhaling the air from your lips. You were finally starting to relax when the incessant thought about the fundraiser reared it’s nasty head at the forefront of your mind.

You look to Lady, who is curled up on the sink counter, the sound of Ol’ Blue Eyes lulling her to sleep. You take another deep breath before grabbing your phone and opening up that email.

Reinhardt, Claudia

Subject: 🍆

So, this company seems the most legit and had the best reviews on multiple sites. Overall, had the best looking dudes too. I picked out a few that I thought that you would like, you know, best friends and all. I will only be slightly offended if you don’t pick one of my gentleman callers.

Good luck chickee! xo

You took another sip of wine before opening the links to these ‘gentleman callers’ pages.

Travis; he was cute in a ‘use to be a skater’ kind of way. Had some muscle, a decent smile. Age, 26. Perfect. Height, 5’3”. Well, that won’t work. You close out his link and go to the next one.

Bret; could be a model with the blue eyes, black hair look and a jaw that could cut glass. You sit up slightly, scrolling down further into his profile. Age; 19. Fuck no. You quickly close the link and go to the next one.

You go through a few more and you begin to feel hopeless. They were all good looking but none of them sparked the desire to take them to an event where you will be spending endless hours with them.

You were officially going to give up until you saw that there was only one link left.

Harry; this guy can’t be real. Beautiful green eyes, silky curly hair, a really cute smile with dimples. The perfect amount of muscle. You held your breath as you continued to read his profile.

Age; 24. You could handle that.

Height; 6 foot. Perfect.

Reason why you joined this company; Honestly, I’m getting my masters in business at Columbia University. A scholarship and work study can only pay so much of the tuition. So he is smart and can talk about business if needed.

What can you bring to the table for your date; I’m personable and will make friends with anyone in a room. I’m the perfect date for a work related event because I can talk about anything. If you chose me, I promise, you won’t regret it.

You took the last bit of your wine as your finger hovered over the message icon. “I better not regret this…”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry just got home to his rundown studio apartment from his day working in the college library. He threw his backpack on his mismatching dining set before striding into the kitchen to heat up leftover Chinese. He threw the container into the microwave and began to strip on his way to his bed. He pulled on a pair of old grey sweatpants and went back into the kitchen to retrieve his food and a beer.

He climbed into his bed and turned on the TV, throwing on Family Guy before digging into his food. He got up at one point to get his phone that he left in his jacket, where he couldn’t remember where he threw it.

After finding it, he climbs back into bed and continues to stuff his cheeks with lo mein. He unlocks his phone to see he has some texts, a few emails, a bunch of messages on his Tinder app that he has been ignoring and a new message on his work email. Not the library job, but the job that no one knows about.

He gets emails regularly on his work email. Usually older women who want to make a statement at an event. Like “I’m still young. Look at the young man with me.” He doesn’t mind it because they pay a shit ton for him to just sit there and look pretty, but it gets boring. He would rather work overnight at the library and he is pretty sure it is haunted.

He opens the message and he sees your name. He drops his Chinese container into his lap, cursing at the grease stains that are now on his sweats.

He knows you. He knows you very well. He has written multiple research papers on your work, how you built a company on your own. He’s even rubbed one out to you a few times because your so fucking beautiful and unbelievebly smart.

Harry,

I apologize for how this message reads; I have never done such a thing before.

I have an event for a Forbes fundraiser and we are required to bring a plus one. Unfortunately, I do not have one and need to go to such lengths as to hiring one.

I have read your profile, multiple times if we are being honest, and I feel that you are best suited for the situation.

If you accept my offer, I will pay you handsomely and will schedule you with my tailor to get a suit for the event. Anything involved will be taken care of by me, you will just need to present by my side.

Please let me know if you accept my offer in a timely fashion.

All the best, Y/N Y/L/N

Harry’s mouth was gaping like a fish. You, you, need a date to an event and you asked him. He must be dreaming. He rereads the email a million times and tries to compose himself enough to respond.

Ms. Y/L/N,

It would be an honor to be by your side. Please let me know where I need to be and when and I promise, I will not let you down.

Harry

A few moments after sending the email he got notifications of events being added to his calendar. The first thing was his appointment with your tailor tomorrow morning.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry was standing outside the tailor’s shop, being a few minutes early and the door was locked. He could hear the clicking of heels and heard a familiar voice. You had presented at Colombia for seminars multiple times, considering it was your Alma Mater. He knew that voice because he attended every seminar that you were a speaker at.

You had your phone in one hand with your designer purse in the crook of the arm that was holding your phone. You had a tray with a few coffees in the other hand. He thought you looked powerful and beautiful in your burgundy blazer with a black tank top tucked into your houndstooth black and white trousers. A gold Gucci belt pulling the whole look together.

You smiled at him as you told whomever you were talking to that you had to go and that you will call them back. He about melted into a puddle when he heard you call his name.

He nodded with a smile while you put your phone in your purse and coordinated the drinks so that you were able to extend a hand to shake Harry’s. Your hand was so soft, he never wanted to let go.

“Thank you for being able to do this so quickly. The event is this weekend and I wanted to make sure that your suit was done in time.” You were smiling at him the whole time, like you have been friends for a lifetime.

“It’s no problem at all.” He smiled back as you took in a good look at him, seeming to be pleased with your choice. He unconsciously stood up straighter and clasped his hands behind his back as you turned to press the buzzer of the store front.

The door unlocked and he quickly grabbed the door to allow you to walk in first, as you gave your thanks. You strutted in like you owned the place and Harry could feel his cock twitch in his jeans watching you own the room.

A beautiful person was standing there waiting for you with gorgeous red flowing hair. They looked angelic with their light and soft features.

“Harris darling, this is Harry. You will be working with him on finding the perfect suit and tailoring it like the artist you are.” You sat on the white sofa, handing out coffees to the people around you, including Harry.

“I didn’t know how you liked your coffee, so I got it black but I have cream and sugar if you need it.” You pulled out the little paper bag the cafe had given you with the coffee fixings from your purse.

“Black is perfect, thank you.”

You smiled up at him as you handed him his coffee, he gladly took a seat next to you as Harris handed the two of you their portfolio.

“These are what I have in the shop now and the fabrics in the back are what I have at home, if you would prefer one of those.”

Harry scooted a little closer to get a better look that you quickly took notice of, so you moved so that the portfolio sat on both of your laps while your thighs touched. Harry’s breath hitched when he felt the contact but quickly brushed it off to continue looking at the beautiful suits.

“Is my dress done by chance? I would love to do the final fitting today as well.”

“Of course. I also have a few ideas of suits for you Harry that would go with the dress. Not so matchy-matchy, but to make sure you don’t clash.”

“Let’s try those, hm?” You looked at Harry with a sweet smile. All he could do was gaulp and nod.

You put the portfolio on the table in front of you before taking your blazer off and laying it delicately on the arm of the couch. You stood up and began to wander around, looking at Harris’ fall collection.

“I can’t wait to see these on the models. Absolutely stunning, Harris.”

“Wouldn’t have been able to do it without you, my love.” You smiled as you continued to explore.

Harry couldn’t take his eyes off you. You were so ethereal in your movements, so effortless. You seemed so gentle and he has only been around you for a few moments. He has always known you as a strong willed, fierce, badass woman. But now, he sees you as delicate porcelain. Not in a way that you could easily be broken, he doesn’t think that could ever be the case. But in the way that you need to be taken care of and adored fondly.

Harry was pulled out of his trance when Harris returned with an armful of suits, calling Harry to the dressing room. Harris helped him with trying them on, all of them being breathtaking.

You had gone into your dressing room with Harris’ assistant helping you put on your gown. You were never one for flash at events, so you asked for a simple black gown with some red detailing, red being your power color. You wore red lipstick or a red pair of heels to every event, so people would be expecting it.

You had walked out as did Harry and he was frozen. The black gown had off the shoulder straps and a sweetheart neckline, showing off your silky decolletage. It had a hip-high slit on your left leg showing off the delicious meat of your thigh, your heels making your legs look even longer. It was form fitting around the torso and hips with the fabric draping beautifully around you, cascading softly around your feet. The bottom of the gown and around the bust was detailed with delicate red stitching, creating a floral design.

And you couldn’t take your eyes off Harry. His suit was the same blood red as your stitching. The floral details of his suit were stitched in black and he had a black button up underneath with the top few buttons undone. Harris had already pinned the suit so it fit him perfectly. His thighs looked strong and thick, his shoulders broad. He was exceptionally handsome.

Harris squealed with how amazing you both looked and you matched without it being obnoxious. Harris walked you to the platform so he could do his final fitting on you. You and Harry couldn’t stop looking at each other in the mirror, the eye contact being strong and unwavering. The only thing that pulled you out of your trance was when Harris called your name to tell you he was done with you.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After getting back into your work clothes, you kissed Harris goodbye and Harry shook their hand. You told Harris that Derek will pick up the garments Saturday morning before the event.

Harry held the door open for you and let you walk on to the sidewalk first. You started pulling out your phone to check it, quickly turning off the screen before looking up at Harry.

“Do you need a ride? I walked here from my office but it isn’t far, I can drop you off.” You stood there waiting for a response and he was taking too long for your taste.

“Well come on then, I’ll take you wherever you need to go.” You started walking with a purpose, pulling out your phone again to give Derek a heads up of your plans. Harry quickly jogged to catch up with you.

“Thank you. Um, could you drop me off at campus?” You looked back up and smiled with a nod.

“Of course.”

When you got to the parking garage, you hit your key fob to unlock your car. You had a nice black Audi that you gracefully climbed into. Harry was treating it like a work of fragile art, not wanting to touch anything. You noticed that he was admiring your car, causing you to smile. “Are you a car kind of guy?”

“Um, yeah. I suppose. I know a pretty car when I see one.”

This caused you to giggle. “I may have another event for you then. One of my colleagues has vintage cars that he submits to a car show, he asks me to go every year. Maybe I’ll go if I have you by my side.”

Harry beamed at the idea, “I would like that.”

“It’s in the Hamptons so I would have to steal you for a couple of days. I have a beach house there. That’s if you don’t mind, of course.”

Harry had the opportunity to go to the Hamptons to spend a couple of days with you? How could he say no to that fantasy.

“That sounds great, just tell me when and I’m there.”

You started your drive to Colombia’s campus when you felt the need to talk about the one factor of this you had yet to approach.

“How would you like me to pay you? I can write a check or direct deposit if you would like.” You give a quick glance over to him while at a red light and you see him adjusting in his seat.

“Um, whatever is easier for you.”

“I think it will be more discreet if I direct deposit. I will give you my number and you can text me your bank information. I will be sure to delete it and would never do anything other than deposit money to you.”

He nodded in agreement, not that he was worried that you would take money from him. Not that he had a whole lot of money to his name.

You pulled up next to the campus and asked Harry for his phone to put in your number. “Whenever you get the chance, text me the information.”

“I will, thanks.” He stepped out of the car, slung his backpack over his shoulder and began to walk to campus.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry got home and relaxed for a bit, wrapping his head around the day. He got fitted for a gorgeous designer suit, rode in an Audi, and got invited for a long weekend in the Hamptons, all by the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.

He finally sat up and began to dig through his piles of papers on his counter to find his bank information. He quickly texted it to you, double checking the numbers were typed out correctly. He set the phone down and went to hop into the shower.

When he stepped out with a towel around his waist and another in hand roughly drying his hair, he picked up his phone and saw a notification from his bank.

Direct deposit of $5,000.

He stared at the screen for an undetermined amount of time before going to his contacts and calling you.

“Hello, this is Y/N.”

“That is way too much, you don’t have to do that, please just —”

“Harry, it is my money and I do as I please. You are doing me a huge favor and you will be with me for a full evening. Plus, you have to deal with a bunch of assholes, it’s the least I can do. Now, don’t ever question my decisions again, okay? My assistant will drop off your suit on Saturday morning. Please text me your address so he can do so. Have a good rest of your day.”

The line went dead, Harry was still in shock. He has never seen four digits in his bank account before and it happened in the blink of an eye. He decided to text you his address and asked no more questions.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry was pulling on the perfectly tailored suit jacket and ran his hand through his hair one last time before spritzing on his cologne when there was a knock on his door. He walked over to open it, seeing a man in a black suit that he has never seen before. The man gave Harry a nod and he began to walk to the stairs. Harry quickly grabbed his keys and phone before following the unnamed, eerily quiet man.

When Harry reached outside, there was a black SUV with dark tinted windows. The uncanny man opened the back door, exposing you looking down at your phone. Harry gasped when you looked up at him, lips painted red, flashing him a dazzling smile.

“Well, don’t you look handsome.” You scooted over so Harry could climb in. He honestly couldn’t help himself, but he had to stare at you. You had your legs crossed, left leg over your right, exposing the full skin of both of your legs due to the slit on the left side. His mouth began to water looking at the soft glow of your legs.

“So, I apologize in advance if some wives try to take you home with them tonight. Those old hags probably haven’t been screwed properly in ages since their husbands waste their viagra on some girls who want their money.”

Harry raised his eyebrows at you with a smile growing across his lips, “Why do I feel like you're not kidding?”

“Oh,” you let out a scoffed laugh, “because I’m not.” You look back up from your phone to gaze at Harry, “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” You send him a wink, causing him to blush.

He beams back at you, “My hero.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As you enter through the doors of the banquet hall, arm laced through Harry’s, you begin to get the urge for a cigarette.

You see previous partners to your company; ones that moved on to bigger and better things, others who screwed you over and you cut ties with. You see the old men that hit on you and the wives that stare daggers into you. They all told you that you weren’t going to make it and you proved them all wrong. Though some think you did it with a little help from what is between your legs or your harlot red lips.

You really need a cigarette.

You see Claudia standing across the way, holding out two champagne flutes for the both of you. You gently tug Harry with you, taking in how he is observing the room. He has an air of professionalism to him that can only come naturally; he’ll be a great business man.

“Knew you would pick this one! Had to save the best for last.” Claudia handed you both your bubbling spirit and put her hand out for Harry to shake, introducing herself and Derek.

“I need a cigarette and a stronger drink than this to get through the night.” You quickly downed the liquid, placing the glass on a nearby table, excusing yourself to the terrace.

Harry followed you out a few moments later, holding a rocks glass out to you. You smiled up at him reaching for the glass and taking a sip before handing it back to him so you could take a long drag. “Thank you.”

He leaned over the banister of the terrace to look out over the city, taking his own sip where your red lips had left their stain. You found it slightly erotic how he licked his lips after touching your mark, as if he had decided to take his sip at that specific part of the glass on purpose.

“So tell me, shall I be talking you up in there? Should be easy for me.”

You reach for the glass he is rolling between his fingers, taking another sip, “And why is that?”

He took the cigarette from between your fingers, admiring the vibrant stain before placing it between his own lips, slightly squinting his eyes as he took a drag. “I’m quite infatuated with you. I’ve followed your work from the start, wrote some papers on your business plans.”

You raised an eyebrow and watched him, studying his features that softened as the left side of his lip began to upturn, indenting his cheek to an adorable dimple. “To be completely honest? I started to follow you because I was terribly attracted to you. I saw you on the front of a magazine and…” he pursed his lips out with a smirk before he chuckled at himself. He looked up at you with his boyish charm before he stood back up and took his drink from you again.

“Oh, Harry, thought about me when you were lonely?” You gave him a false pout that grew into a smile.

He finished his drink before looking back at you, “Still do.” His smile and eye contact were never wavering as he stamped out your cigarette for you and took your hand to return inside.

Harry guided you to your table, hand on your lower back before pulling out your chair for you. He sat to the left of you next to another gentleman, who you had no idea what his business was. His wife was glaring at you as Harry was talking to the man, though the man was more focused on the cleavage exposed by your dress. Harry reached his hand to you, gripping onto the skin of your exposed thigh.

You could audibly hear the man whimper and his wife scoff as Harry’s thumb began to caress your skin. You could see Claudia’s smile grow as she takes a sip of her drink, watching Harry become possessive of you before her eyes. Derek caught her attention by kissing her cheek as the head speaker began his announcement for awards and donations.

As the night came to an end, you were thankful to have Harry at your side. He was holding his own, taking to other businessmen as if he had been conversing with them his whole life. He was able to talk business plans, discuss what he was currently learning in classes, he even gave a few men advice on future endeavors. To be completely honest, you were aroused by the power Harry held as he was working the room.

Harry had his arm wrapped around your waist as you walked to your awaiting SUV, holding your hand as you climbed in and he followed suit. You let out a content sigh, enjoying the silence in the car.

Harry reached across you, grabbing the back of your knee to pull both legs to rest on his lap. He gently unclasped the buckle of your heel, slowly removing it before placing it on the floor by his feet. He did the same with your other foot and began to rub his thumb up the arches.

You let out a satisfied hum at the pressure soothing your aching feet, resting your head on the window as you watched Harry focused on his work in hand.

“You did amazing tonight, Harry. Thank you.”

He looked up at you with his dimples on display, making the tightness you have felt in your stomach all night constrict even more. He looked proud, as he should.

“It was a lot of fun. Learned a lot.”

You smiled back at him, slowly blinking your eyes closed. “That old colleague I was telling you about with the vintage car show, Jack, he asked if we would like to go. It’s in six weeks if you are interested.”

“I’d love to.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

In the six weeks since the fundraising event, Harry had joined you on multiple smaller level events, including some work dinners and client matters.

His closest had grown exponentially in the six weeks, whether it was a suit for an event that you had purchased for him or he had found something designer he liked and he bought it with the money from his ever growing bank account, thanks to you. He has found pleasure in Gucci, also thanks to you. He has found that the luxuries he now has in his life was all in your taste, subconsciously wanting to please you.

You would comment on his attire he has purchased without your assistance, always beaming when you talk about what line it was from and how well it suited Harry. He loves the feelings he gets when you praise him.

He was packing his bag for the weekend trip to the Hamptons, having just gone shopping for some outfits for the occasion. He had also bought some things to spruce up his studio apartment, making it look more put together and modern rather than a frat boy's bedroom. Your taste even makes its appearance in his decor.

You had knocked on his door, waiting with coffee in hand for the both of you. He opened the door with a wide smile before allowing you to enter the apartment. He had his clothes neatly folded on the bed, waiting to be placed into the leather duffle bag you got him for the occasion, another ‘thank you’ on your part.

You sat on his bed, sipping your coffee while watching him put his toiletries in the matching leather shaving bag, which was also a praise gift. He was dressed in grey sweat shorts and a simple black T-shirt with his short locks held out of his face by a red bandana. He was still barefoot walking around while he was finishing up.

“Do you have the word ‘big’ tattooed on your toe?” Your ever present smile grew as you leaned closer to get a look.

Harry chuckled, scratching his jaw “I may have been drunk and did it myself.”

You shook your head with a giggle of your own before taking another sip of your coffee, leaning back in Harry’s bed.

Harry was trying to will away the semi he was sporting. He had never seen you in lounge clothes and the black leggings you were wearing were doing crazy things to Harry’s body. You were wearing your Columbia Alumni shirt, tied in a knot at the waist to show off the curves of your hips that the leggings were hugging. Your hair was up messily, making Harry want to pull it down from its restraint so that he could muss it up with his own fingers. Your Clubmaster Ray-Bans sat on top of your head and your skin looked fresh and dewy with no makeup on.

Harry took a moment in his kitchen when he was getting his hydro flask to take a breath and squeeze himself through his shorts to take away some of the ache. He’s not sure how he is going to handle a whole weekend if this is what it will be like.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You stopped at a local gas station before leaving the city. Harry offered to fill your tank while you went into the shop to get some snacks for the trip, getting your essential Swedish Fish and Redbull while Harry asked for gummy bears and orange juice.

Harry was already sitting in the passenger seat when you returned, him now having his Wayfarer Ray-Bans on; he only bought them when you said he would look good in them. He was playing on his phone and perked up when you slid in the drivers side.

You handed him his goodies while you promptly opened your bag of candy to set between your thighs and cracked open your can of liquid energy. You began your hour and a half drive to your beach house in the Hamptons. You had your favorite Spotify playlist playing through your speakers, both of you humming along.

“Want some?” Harry looked up at you confused as to what you were talking about. You smiled as you glanced over before returning your gaze to the road. “Some fishies, help yourself.” You nodded down to the bag between your thighs as you took another sip of your drink.

“Thanks.” Harry reached over, dipping his hand between your thighs that you involuntarily widened when his hand approached. He looked up at your face when he slowly dipped his fingers into the bag to grip a few red fish, reaching for the few that were closest to the apex of your thighs. He could feel your heat at his knuckles as he pulled a few gummies out, sticking his tongue out as the candy approached his lips.

You adjusted in your seat, shocked that you were turned on by a man grabbing and eating a candy. Then again, it was Harry. He has been torturing you with his good looks since you clicked on his link.

The ride was uneventful for the rest of the time, Harry watching as expensive homes, luxurious boutiques and restaurants whiz by as you enter the Hamptons and make your way toward the beach.

You pulled up to your beach house, clicking the garage door button on your phone before parking. You grab your trash and put them in the appropriate receptacles that you keep in your garage. Harry was already grabbing your bags out of the car, allowing you to unlock the door freely. You held it open for Harry, stepping into your small mud room, both kicking off your shoes before walking further into the home.

The first view Harry had was of the beach through the windows that filled the wall of your dining room. He walks past the open concept kitchen to go straight to the windows, watching the waves crash on the shore. You open the french doors that lead to your back porch that has stairs that lead down to the sandy beach. You let some fresh air waft in as you go to the kitchen to take stock of what you need to go shopping for.

Harry was still standing at the window with both your bags in hand before you went over to rub his back and grab your bag.

“Come on, I’ll show you your room.” You guide Harry past your open living room to the stairs, leading him up and to the right. “This will be your room. You’ll have your own bathroom and there should be fresh towels in there for you. I’ll be right down the hall if you need anything. I’m going to hop in the shower.”

Harry watched as you walked away, seeing you pull off your T-shirt as you were shutting your bedroom door, briefly exposing your black bralette. Harry ran his hand down his face, feeling the pulse return to his groin. He quickly shut and locked the door before situating himself on his bed, promptly pushing his shorts and briefs down his thighs, reaching for the high end lotion you placed by the bed for guests.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry had taken his own shower after relieving himself after he made a proper mess on his thighs and hand. He climbed down the stairs to the smell of curry and Elton John playing through the speakers.

“Figured we should eat a proper meal since we haven’t yet today, so I ordered some Thai.”

You both sat on your back porch, enjoying the view as you ate your take out. You chatted about the next day, telling Harry about the car show and what to expect when it comes to Jack.

“He's like that eccentric drunk uncle at the Christmas party that you love but don’t want to deal with.”

You enjoyed each other’s company, watching the sun start to set on the horizon before calling it a night and turning in.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

After waking up from a restful sleep, Harry got dressed in his running shorts and hoodie, throwing on his running shoes before walking to your room to let you know he was going to go for a run along the beach.

Your door was cracked open slightly, Harry able to see you laying on your bed. He stepped closer to the door, about to push the door open further when he heard an ever present whimper. He wasn’t sure if the noise was due to your sleep, but his question was answered when he looked at you in your detail.

Your legs were spread open, two fingers deep to the knuckle as you were laid open on your comforter. You were pumping into yourself as you had your other hand up under your sleep shirt, groping your breast and rolling your nipple between your fingers.

Harry thought he was dreaming, seeing the delicious sight in front of him. Harry couldn’t help himself but to dip his hand in his shorts to start palming his hardening member. Your whimpers going straight to his cock, the arch of your spine off your bed making his mouth water.

You looked over at your door, eyes barely open, pausing your movements briefly when you saw Harry in the crack of the door. Your eyes trail to see him pumping his hand in his shorts, thinking that you should give him a good show.

He didn’t notice that you had seen him but he did notice that your legs had spread further as you pulled your glistening fingers out of your core to rub them on your clit, causing you to moan louder. You pulled your shirt up completely to expose yourself fully to Harry, all without him knowing that you were aware of his wandering eyes.

Having him watch you work yourself got you to your brink. Your eyes were glued to his pumping which was now frantic, causing you to lose control, snapping your legs shut around your hand as you came undone. You could hear Harry attempt to muffle his grunt as he made a mess of his shorts, causing a blissful smile to grow across your swollen lips. You gently rolled your fingers around your clit, spreading your legs again for Harry to watch as you ease yourself down from your high.

The next time you looked at your door, Harry was gone.

You got out of bed with an annoyed huff, getting a shower before wrapping yourself in your robe to head downstairs to make coffee and a quick breakfast. You grabbed your plate of eggs and toast with your coffee and cigarettes, stepping out on your back porch to enjoy the air while trying to calm your aggravation.

You don’t know why you are annoyed with Harry not making a move on you while you were self pleasing, but you were. You wanted that to be the moment to break down the walls built by the pure sexual tension between you. You knew he wanted you, he had told you he had touched himself to you, and now, you had seen him touch himself to you. You were on the brink of sinking on your knees and pulling him out to prove how much you wanted him too.

Harry climbed up the stairs, all sweaty from his run as you were finishing up your cigarette. He could sense the irritation coming off of you but he wasn’t sure why. Maybe you had caught him and you weren’t happy about it. He would just die if that was the case. He sat down in the chair that wasn’t taken over by your resting feet. He noticed that you were only picking at your breakfast as he untied his shoes and kicked them off so as to not trail any sand inside. He leaned back in his seat, taking a deep breath before pulling his hoodie off, T-shirt coming off with it.

You couldn’t help your mouth watering seeing him now topless and glistening with sweat, watching his chest rise and fall while trying to catch his breath. You sat up and ripped a piece of toast before popping it in your mouth, now refusing to look at him.

“Have a nice run?” You continued to poke at your eggs, acting like you're eating them but you are just trying to occupy your eyes.

“Yeah, it was nice. Been a while since I ran on a beach.”

You hummed at his response before standing up and grabbing your things. “We will be leaving in an hour, Jack wants us to meet him at the country club before the car show.”

Harry nodded at you but you promptly walked inside, ignoring his reply before dropping your dishes in the sink and going to your room to get ready.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You knew you were being petty. You knew that he couldn’t read your mind but god you wished he could. You were just finishing your hair when you heard a knock on your bedroom door. You walked over to see Harry clad in red and white gingham trousers and a white button up with the sleeves rolled up, just sheer enough to make the outlines of his black ink. His hair was perfectly slicked back with a few curls having some definition to them. He had a look of cowardice as he tucked his hands in the pockets of his trousers.

“Looking handsome, as always.” He gave you a soft smile at the compliment before fully taking you in. You were in a white knee length sundress that had big roses printed on the fabric. Your one shoulder strap annoyingly falling down, which Harry promptly grazed his fingers against your skin to slide the strap into place.

Harry’s gaze raked back up your frame before looking you in your eyes, “You ready?”

You nodded at him, grabbing your Michael Kors wedges off your bed before walking out of your room ahead of Harry. You made your way to the mud room to switch your purses and to sit on the bench to slip on your shoes.

Harry grabbed your shoes for you, kneeling in front of you, gingerly wrapping his fingers around your ankle to slide your foot into the wedge, pulling the zipper up at the heel. He had done the same to your other foot, this time watching you watch him. He gently placed your foot to the floor before standing up straight and putting his hand out for you to help you up before walking to your car.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The car ride was silent, omitting the random questions Harry had regarding the country club and Jack. You adjusted your sunglasses after you had parked, reaching into the back seat to grab your bag. You were about to climb out but Harry gripped your wrist, pausing your motions.

“Y/N…” you looked at him as he had reached to push your sunglasses off your face to look you directly in the eyes. “I’m sorry about this morning, when I saw you. I should have left you in private but I just couldn’t help myself. I needed to see you, need to see you like that. If it ruined any type of relationship we may have, I thoroughly apologize. You should know that I never meant to invade your privacy but… fuck, I just can’t help myself with you. My body takes over when it comes to you and I am so sorry. Please, forgive me?”

You sat there in silence, trying not to smile at how cute Harry was. He was giving you the puppy eyes as his thumb ran over your wrist in gentle circles. You were pondering on how you should approach it; Do you tell him it was no problem? Ignore it and act like nothing happened? Or…

“I only got off because I saw you pump your cock watching me.” You leaned over to kiss his cheek before stepping out of the car to the entrance of the country club.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Jack loved Harry. They were chatting it up outside, Jack with a cigar in his mouth and Harry with his mimosa in hand. You were ordering you both another one when Jack’s wife, Sharon, approached you at the bar.

“He’s a looker, sweetheart.” You smiled at her before telling her honestly how you met. Jack and Sharon were always supportive of you. You had been Jack’s intern at his company when you were in undergrad, Jack promptly hiring you when you were getting your masters. He taught you everything you knew and Sharon taught you how to enjoy the finer things in life, including Harry.

“Cut the shit with the escort thing and make him your man. He’s a looker, he’s smart. Jack already adores him and is calling him son. You know how hard it is to please that man.”

You looked back to Harry and Jack, both laughing at one of their dad jokes. Harry looked up to see you looking at him, smiling and twiddling his fingers in a wave. He finished his drink, prompting him and Jack to walk back inside to you girls.

Harry had adjusted the strap of your dress that fell down again and you were handing him a new mimosa, sipping out of your own glass. Harry placed his hand on your lower back, watching you as you engage in the conversation Jack and Sharon were having.

An announcement was made that the fairway was now open for guests to look at the cars. Jack quickly downed his drink before exiting like a kid being allowed free range of a candy store. Sharon promptly followed her husband as Harry guided you to follow, grazing his hand down to your bum to give it a soft rub and light tap.

Harry followed Jack around as he was explaining to Harry all the ins and outs of all the vintage cars on show. What gave them value, their rarity, what he likes and dislikes of each car. Sharon and you following behind, enjoying the sun and the wine slushies you had grabbed from a vendor.

Harry took a particular interest in a white 1966 Mercedes-Benz 230SL, stalking around it to take in the details. He smiled to the owner when they came over to talk to Harry, showing the car with the roof down.

“He’s got good taste. He’s enamored by you and the car.” Jack elbowed your shoulder, causing the strap of your dress to fall again. You looked at him as you adjusted the dress with a smile.

“How can you tell?”

“Well, I can tell he loves the car because that’s how he looks at you, doll.”

You look back to Harry, who is now sitting in the driver's seat, running his hands along the steering wheel. Harry shakes hands with the driver before walking back over to you, grabbing your slushie to take a drink himself.

You look up at him, pushing your sunglasses into your hair to take him in fully. “You like?”

Harry put his hand on your hip, taking another sip of the slushie. “She is a beauty. My dad has something similar but not as pristine.” He looked back over his shoulder to look at the car as his hand continued to rub at your hip.

“She is pretty. Looks like a pearl.” You looked over his shoulder with him to take her in.

Harry kissed the top of your head, handing back your drink before going to follow Jack and Sharon as you sneak off to talk to the owner.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You enjoyed your dinner with Jack and Sharon, catching up on your businesses as well as discussed Harry’s future plans. Jack had offered Harry an intern position at his company if Harry was interested.

Jack and Sharon wished you and Harry a good night before you went your separate ways to your cars. Sharon gave you an extra squeeze and told you to “be nice to that boy”, sending you a wink.

You climb into your car to see Harry beaming. “I think they liked me.”

You smiled back at him, “I know they like you. Wouldn't stop coming up to me to tell me how i should keep you around.”

Harry was leaning his head on the headrest to look at you, “Do you want to keep me around?”

“Should I keep you around?” You started your car and began to drive away, Harry still watching your every move. You could see him in the corner of your eye, both of your smiles growing. His hand made its way to your thigh, pushing your skirt up so that his hand could rest on your bare skin. You hummed at the warmth of his palm.

“So you liked when I was watching you?” His hand began to slide further up your dress and your legs had spread further for him, as they tend to do more frequently than not as of late.

“I loved it.”

He hummed at your response, “Do you like being caught? Dirty girl.”

You moaned and moved your left leg so Harry could touch every inch of you, you lifted the skirt of your dress to expose your lace covered core to Harry.

“Want me to finger fuck you here, dirty girl? Right in your car, while you're driving? You’re fucking filthy.”

He started to run his fingers through your folds and you tried your hardest to focus on the road. You weren’t far from your home at this point, trying to stay safe while focusing on Harry’s delicious fingers learning the dips and curves of your core.

“Should I wait to fuck you properly when we get home? Been thinking about it all day.” He unbuckled his seatbelt to get closer to you to nose at your neck. He started to dip his fingers into you as he was kissing any exposed skin.

You finally made it home, abruptly parking your car in the driveway. You undid your seatbelt, promptly taking Harry’s hand that was between your legs to plunge his fingers deeper into you. Your head tipped back as Harry’s fingers hit your favorite spot. Harry quickly made the come hither motion, rubbing his fingertips where you needed him.

“God baby… you’re my dirty girl, huh? Fucking yourself with my fingers.” Your grip tightened around his wrist as he nipped at your jaw. Your thighs began to tighten around Harry’s hand which caused him to remove himself from you. You let out a whine at the empty feeling and the pure desire that was burning in you.

You turn to Harry with lust filled eyes to see him shamelessly suck on each finger that was buried in you individually. “Going to give me a proper taste later. Aren’t you, sweet girl?”

Harry had climbed out of the car, grabbing the keys from you to unlock the door. He began to unbutton his shirt in the mud room as he was kicking off his shoes, you watched with a panting breath, still in the front seat of your car. Harry tucked his hands in the pockets of his trousers, bare chested, and gave you a nod to follow him inside.

When you finally entered your house, Harry was in the kitchen with his head in the refrigerator. He pulled out the container of strawberries and slid them onto the island. He closed the door before turning to lean on the island, popping the container open with a flick of his finger. He grazed the tips of his fingers across each strawberry, deciding which one was the juiciest berry.

“Go get in your shower. I will be there in a moment.” He gripped the stem of the red fruit, tongue grazing it’s flesh before he sunk his teeth in. He made sure to look at you as he licked his lips free of the sweet juice.

You thought that two could play at this game, standing in place as you unzipped your dress and letting it fall freely around your ankles, exposing you in your strapless bra and panties with your wedges still on before climbing up the stairs. Harry stood up straight as you began to walk away.

You quickly undressed as you started your shower, getting under the warm stream while patiently waiting. The anticipation was killing you. It felt like you had been standing under the running water for hours with Harry nowhere to be found. You decided that you would actually start your shower routine.

You were facing the water, rinsing off your face free of makeup and face wash when you felt Harry’s grip on the back of your neck. He pressed his body close to yours so that you could feel his erection on your bum and so that his mouth had access to your ear.

“What am I to do with you, filthy girl? Spent months thinking of you with your legs spread open, just for me and then you have to go and fuck yourself with not only your fingers, but mine as well.”

He used his left hand to guide yours to the wall for support while his right hand trailed down your body, immediately finding purchase between your legs. His middle finger was quick with making circles around your sensitive nub while he laced his fingers with yours against the wall.

“Dreamt about touching you,” his fingers dipped lower, grazing your glistening entrance. “Tasting you,” he began to pepper kisses along your shoulder. “Fucking you.” He thrusted his hips behind you, his hard on grazing perfectly between your cheeks.

“I’ve wanted to for so long my sweet girl, just know that it’s because I want this, not because of the job. Fuck the job honestly. I just want you, all of you.”

He gave a gentle push to your upper spine to have you lean over slightly as he grips his member, swiftly sliding himself into you and quickly gaining a rhythm with his thrusts. He was quick but not deep, causing you to press your cheek to the cold time for support. His thrusts became deeper and rougher, causing your gentle whimpers to become moans that bounced against the tiles.

Harry gripped your thigh, pulling it to spread you open further while he guided you to rest your foot on the bench of the shower. His moans were muffled by your shoulder that would have his mark by the end of this. Harry’s hand continued to rub circles on your clit, making your legs tremble and for your to lean back upright into Harry.

“Feel good baby? Fuck, you’re such a good girl taking me. Feel so fucking good.”

You could feel his hips stutter against you, causing him to roll his hips slowly into you. You let out a moan and grip the wrist of his hand that is making work on your mound.

“Mmm you like that? Going to cum for me, sweet girl? Let me feel you.” His fingers started to move in rapid figure eights, causing your leg that was propped up to quickly fall and close Harry’s hand between your thighs. The new tightness of your core with your legs closed caused Harry to moan out and still within you, feeling your orgasm throb around him.

He began to kiss down your spine so he could be on his knees. He gently gripped your hip to turn you around so you could finally face him. He looked beautiful.

As he was kissing your lower belly, you took in his wet hair slicked back, his cheeks and chest flush from orgasm, his lips red and swollen. He used both hands to spread your thighs open so that he could see his cum drip from your core. He looked up at you in awe before quickly running his finger through your folds, catching both his and your arousal. He extended his hand up to you, telling you to ‘open’ before he popped his slick finger between your lips. He let you suck his finger to your desire as he dipped his tongue between your folds, moaning at the taste of your mixture.

Harry had stood up and held your jaw before leaning in for your first kiss. He was gentle, holding both sides of your jaw as his tongue grazed your lip to allow him to taste all of you. He pressed you gently against the cool wall as he continued to kiss you breathless before pulling away and grabbing the shampoo to wash your hair for you.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It had been a few weeks and you had finally received the call telling you that you could pick up a gift that you had purchased for Harry. You had bought it prior to him giving you the good news that he had accepted the internship with Jack, but he doesn’t need to know that.

You called him and told him that you were on your way to pick him up with the plan to go for a celebratory dinner. You texted him when you were out front, climbing out of Harry’s gift to lean on the passenger door to await his arrival.

When he walked out, you beamed at how handsome he looked with chartreuse wide legged trousers with a black stripe along the side and a black button up. When he turned to look at you, he was frozen.

The white 1966 Mercedes-Benz 230SL.

You lifted your hands with a ‘surprise’ and a beaming smile. You acted as if you were one of those girls on the Price is Right, explaining all the details, ending with “And she could be all yours Mr. Styles, for the price of a kiss.”

Harry climbed down the front stairs of his apartment building, still in awe of the car but quickly grabbed your face and placed multiple quick kisses to your lips before wrapping his arms around you.

“Sweet girl, you didn’t…”

“You stop. I did and I wanted to, you deserve it. You’ve been working so hard and you got the internship with Jack. We’ll be working together before you know it.”

He looked down at you and gave you a gentle smile before giving you another longer, sweeter kiss. “Shall we go for a ride?” You held the keys up for Harry, who promptly took them before opening the passenger door for you.

Harry drove around the city, following your directions to a more secluded area by a park. The sun was setting as you told Harry to park the car. You looked at him adoringly, your fingers rubbing through his growing locks.

Harry turned to look at you with that all knowing glare, “Did you bring me all the way out here just to screw me, dirty girl?”

You were already climbing across the seat to straddle his lap, unzipping the front of your dress, exposing you had nothing on underneath. You pulled Harry’s head back by tugging at his hair to look up at you. “We need to break her in, don't we?”

Harry groaned before sitting up to give you a searing kiss, his hands trailing over your exposed skin as you were kissing the skin of his jaw and neck. “We could get caught, you know?”

You pulled away, looking down upon him with a devious smirk, you began to undo his belt and zip of his trousers. “Good.”

Harry let out a moan as you dipped his hand in his trousers, pumping him lightly before pulling him out.

“Fucking filthy girl.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry was being added to all the invitations to your work events as if he were a part of you. At this point, he was. Claudia being sure that everyone knew that Harry was an up and coming businessman who was in love with New York’s finest and most beautiful businesswoman.

And everyone adored Harry. How could they not? He was charming, handsome, smart, and an amazing lover. But people didn’t need to know the last part. Well, except maybe Claudia, she was your best friend.

Harry was just as adventurous as you when it came to your intimacy. Always suggesting new things to try, always feeding your hunger. Tonight was no different.

You both had played with the idea of fooling around at a public event but never made any formal agreement. Tonight, you were invited to a gala at the Guggenheim so Harry had used it as an opportunity to fulfill your fantasy.

Harry had stopped by Harris’ to pick up both of your garments and he also stopped at Eve’s Garden on his way to your home. Harry had walked into your penthouse with the garment bags and a little black plastic bag in hand.

You were in your en-suite finishing up your bath, putting lotion on while sitting on the edge of your tub, humming along to Etta James as Lady was curled up on your vanity, licking her paw. She chirped when she saw Harry in the doorway, slinking her way to him for some loving pets.

“Hello, my sweet girls.” You beam up at Harry, rubbing the last of your lotion into your hands before standing up to give Harry a saccharine kiss, also giving Lady a pet. She would never forgive you if you didn’t.

“Thank you for picking up my dress, handsome.”

“Of course, my love. I picked up a little something else.” Harry gave you a small smirk before turning to your room, you follow suit. Harry sat on your bed, patting his lap for you to sit on.

He pulled black bag out from behind him as you sat in his lap. He handed you the bag, undoing your robe to kiss the skin of your collar. You pulled out the vibrant cube box that was nondescript. You rotated it in your hands to try to figure out what it was.

“Open it.” Harry continued to kiss your skin, opening your robe more to expose your chest to him. You opened the box to see a vibrator, a We-Vibe specifically. The box began to vibrate without you touching anything, Harry pulling his lips off your skin to show you that he is controlling it with his phone.

You let out a laugh in disbelief, “Oh, baby.”

Harry smiled at you before getting a good grip of you to lay you on the bed. “I figured we could have a little fun tonight.”

You laid on your back and spread your legs for Harry, who settled on his knees between yours. Harry had pulled the vibrator out of the box, going to the bathroom to sanitize it like the gentleman he is. He made eye contact with you on his way back to you, sucking on the vibrator as he crawled back up the bed.

He shamelessly rolled it against his tongue as his free hand ran up your inner thigh. Harry pulled the vibrator out of his mouth, hollowing his cheeks to spit on the tip of the vibrator before running it through your folds. He gently pushed it into you, watching you as you take a quick inhale.

“You okay, sweet girl?” You gave him a small nod before grabbing his hand to help him adjust it to a more comfortable position within you. Harry rubbed the tops of your thighs before leaning forward to give you a gentle kiss. “Let's get ready, hm?”

You both got up to get ready, you waddling slightly as you walked to your closet, adjusting to exciting new object between your legs. You let out a squeal when you felt it begin to vibrate.

“Just testing it!”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dinner was really rough on you, Harry having his phone permanently attached to his hand under the table. You were starting to get sweaty around your hairline and upper lip trying to keep your moans at bay.

You were reapplying your signature lipstick after finishing dinner and Harry took it as an opportune moment to give you a pulsing vibrate, causing you to give a light moan as your mouth was open and your hand holding your mirror fell to the table soundly. Claudia, Derek, Jack, and Sharon all look at you as Harry tries to hold back his smile, clearing his throat and rubbing his two fingers on the tip of his nose.

“Are you alright, chickee?”

You also cleared your throat and nodded as you felt the intensity between your legs increase and the pulsing become more frequent. You closed your eyes and let out a hum, gently rubbing your lips together before suggesting you go to the bathroom, giving Harry’s thigh a squeeze.

You made your way out of the dining area, Harry quick to follow, telling your friends that he was simply checking up on you. You heard the click of his boots on the marbled floor, the vibrations being between your legs making your knees buckle as you feel Harry’s grip on your bicep to pull you in his direction.

He pulled you into a more private area that was closest to where you were, which happened to be a coat closet. He smeared his lips against yours, smudging your scarlet lips. Harry’s hand was quick to run up your skirt to pull the toy from you, promptly placing it between his lips to suck off your juices before sticking it in his inner jacket pocket.

Harry fell to his knees before you, hiking up your skirt around your waist, gripping your hands to guide you to hold the skirt up for him.

“You’ve been such a good girl for me tonight baby.” He was kissing along your thighs, “Stayed nice and quiet for me, though I hate it. Need to hear you scream for me now, darling.” Harry lifted your leg so it rested on his shoulder while his hands pinned you against the wall.

You felt his fingers tighten around your hips as his nose rubbed against your mound, pecking kisses, occasionally giving your skin a soft lick. You moan softly and look down to see Harry already peering up at you through his long lashes. “Going to need you to be louder than that, sweet girl.”

Harry sat up on his hunches to pull himself out of the restraints of his designer trousers. He lifted his palm up to you, “Spit.”

You gladly spit in his palm before he started to stroke himself, letting an unashamed moan out of the back of his throat. “Been so fucking hard for you all night. Was palming myself under the table all through dinner.”

You spread your legs further as Harry scooted closer, returning to giving you gentle kisses to your mound and lips. You could feel his moans against your skin as he was pumping himself and spreading you open with his tongue.

Your head tipped back as Harry began to dip his tongue into you, gently sucking your lips and clit individually into his mouth. You continue to let out tiny mewls, and Harry needed more.

“Louder, dirty girl. I want them to hear you in the dining room.”

“I need you to fuck me if you want me to do that, baby.”

Harry quickly removed your thigh from his shoulder and climbed to his feet. He still had a grip on your thigh, slinging it over his hip so he could simply slide into you, which was easy to do with how slick you had become from Harry’s incessant teasing all night.

You both moaned out at the feeling, finally having you full of him, just what you needed. What you both needed. You let out a loud moan when Harry started thrusting his hips into you, begging for him to go harder as you dug your nails into his suit jacket. You quickly pushed it off of him so that you could get your nails into him properly.

“Fucking hell, my dirty girl really needs me, huh?”

You nodded at him, letting out another moan that caused Harry’s hips to thrust erratically. His hand gripped your ass to pull you closer, his other hand went to your jaw, his thumb running over your ruby lips, smearing the color.

“You look so good when I fuck you baby girl.” You licked his thumb, tasting the remnants of your lipstick. You grind your hips against Harry, egging him on.

“I need you harder.” You begin to lift your other leg to wrap around Harry’s waist, him gripping your thigh and pinning your harder to the wall with his hips. He took your direction and began to thrust into you harder, hips snapping at a feverish pace. The sound of your skin slapping and your strangled moans sent Harry into overdrive, using his pubic mound to grind perfectly into your clit causing you to gush slightly around Harry’s member.

“Fuck, dirty girl. Got you squirting on me.” The look on Harry’s face was a look of awe as well as pained trying to hold back from his own orgasm. Your thighs clamped around his waist as your second wave came over you, constricting Harry causing him to come undone. Harry’s hand flew up to the wall to support the two of you as you slowly came down.

Harry kissed your cheek and jaw mumbling how perfect you are and that he loves you over and over. You grip his jaw as you unhook your ankles to plant yourself to the floor. Kissing him and praising how good he treats you, how much you love him.

“We should probably get back, hm?”

“I think that since we are both a proper mess,” he tried to remove some of your smeared lipstick with no luck, smiling down at you, “we should probably just head home.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“So what happened with you and Harry last night?” Claudia had asked you as you were both eating your salads from Derek’s go-to local bistro.

“Hm? Oh, I wasn’t feeling well so he just took me home.”

“Not feeling well as in, ‘tummy not well’, or ‘he fucked you so good in the coat closet that you couldn’t walk’ not well?”

You choked on your salad, taking quick sips from your water to clear your throat.

“He said he wanted everyone to hear you and boy did we!” Claudia began to laugh, taking another bit of food and giving you a cheeky smile as you blushed.

“I wanted to check up on you, as girls do, and the next thing I know, I have my ear pressed up to the coat closet getting turned on by Harry’s dirty talk to you.” She shrugged it off as nothing as you covered your face in embarrassment.

“You told me you both are adventurous but lord have mercy. Getting everyone hot and bothered by it.”

You finally loosened up, giggling slightly as you asked her, “Did you notice how I was off throughout the night?” She nodded as she licked the piece of green hanging out of her mouth to guide it where it belonged.

“Harry got us one of those remote vibrators…”

“Oh my god! He was fucking with you all night?! I would take him in the coat closet too! Fucking hell! That’s so hot though. Was it nice? I mean clearly, but would you do it again?”

As you were about to respond, Jack walked in with Harry beside him. He looked so handsome when dressed in a more casual suit for work. His hair was growing longer and he was too lazy to shave that morning at your place before work, so he had a slight scruff to him.

“To what do we own the pleasure of you fine gentleman?” Harry winked at your cheeky remark.

“Well sweetheart, wanted you to be the first to know. Harry has accepted a position at my company and would like to discuss a business proposition with you.”

You couldn’t help but to jump up to your feet to run over and give him a hug and kiss, doing the same to Jack.

You clear your throat to appear to be more professional, which no one in the room took seriously. “So what is this business proposition that you have for me?”

Harry cleared his throat and you didn’t realize that Derek and Sharon had also made their way into your office. Harry tucked his hands in his pockets, getting a nod of approval from Jack.

“I know that our start was quite unorthodox in nature, being as you had hired me as a date to an event. That being said, I have come to learn a lot more about you than I had when I was just a simple fangirl of yours.”

You giggle at his natural joking nature but know that there is true sentiment to his words.

“I have been utterly in love with you before we even met but being with you and getting to truly know you has cemented my thoughts and feelings for you. I know that we have been official for less than a year but I don’t think I could handle another moment of my life where I can’t say that we will be each other's forever.”

You could hear Claudia and Sharon squeak and gasp as Harry pulls his hands out of his pockets, his left one holding a small velvet box.

“Y/N, my love, my sweet girl. I promise to love you and take care of you for the rest of my life. Will you marry me?”

You were beaming with your eyes brimmed with tears, sniffling with a giggle. “There is only one problem.” Everyone froze in their movements, anticipating what you will say next. “I get to keep taking care of you.”

Harry let out the breath he was holding, “Fair enough.” He reached for your left hand to place the perfect engagement ring on your finger. Standing up to give you the most perfect kiss from the most perfect man. And to think that you had ordered him online.

#Harry Styles #Harry Styles Fan Fiction #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles fic #harry styles one shots

879 notes · View notes

blush-and-books · 3 years

Note

13, 15, and 19 queen

The way that the ones I write for you are always longer :)

13, 15 and 19: Forehead kisses, big warm hugs, and peppering kisses all over someone’s face.

High school AU because I like. Was written while listening to TSwifts new album. Look out for my Juke x Willow analysis tomorrow.

It’s a stressful morning. A big morning. A meaningful morning.

Julie’s calculus final.

Her semester grade may or may not have been riding on this single exam, and her ability to play in the band may or may not have been riding on her semester grade.

The deal she had struck with her father and Victoria was that she would get above a C+ in the class, nothing equivalent or less. While Julie was smart, her gifted kid burnout really smoldered in calculus, and her C+ laughed at her every time she checked her grades. She had a B a couple of weeks ago, but a C- on a quiz and a B- on the last test before the final set her up to fail.

If she can ace this test -- which all the guys had been helping her study for all week -- then her grade could go up, because the final is worth double a regular test grade. And all she needs is a little B- or B to keep doing what she loves to do.

Even though he shows up three minutes before final bell every day, Luke makes the effort to show up with five minutes to spare this morning so that he can bring Julie the coffee he bought her.

(He actually had a good reason to almost be late this morning.)

He finds her wringing her hands together next to his locker, which is luckily in the same hall as her math class. She’s so caught in her world of stress that it takes him standing right in front of her for her to see him.

“Jules?”

The sound of his voice startles her.

“Luke! Sorry, I was just-”

“Reviewing in your head? I expect nothing less from you.” His right hand extends out to her, holding the gift of a large coffee cup, still warm. “Lavender black tea latte with vanilla syrup. For the girl who is going to kill her test today.”

She looks at the cup like it’s about to ruin her day, but takes it anyways.

“A bit of a premature celebration, isn’t it? I feel jinxed now.”

Luke’s face falls. But, being the tough guy he is, he makes a considerable attempt to shield his disappointment.

“I’m not jinxing you. It’s a good luck coffee. You’ll get another one when you-” She glares daggers at him, not wanting him to superstitiously ruin her grade. “Sorry! When you… Forget everything and bomb the test.”

When her face wrinkles up with concern, Luke is internally punching himself in the face. He’s been Julie’s best friend for three years and somehow still fucks up every time he wants to comfort her.

(Probably because he has a massive crush on her and is worried that when he supports her, he’ll expose himself and make things awkward and-)

He throws his arms around her instead. One around her waist and the other tugging her shoulders close to him; and he kisses her forehead once, twice, three times.

(Exposed crush be damned.)

“I’m sorry I’m so shitty at this,” he whispers. He feels her right hand, the one without the coffee in it, curl into his shirt. Her sigh blows lightly against his ear.

“You’re okay. I’m just freaking out.”

“You are,” he begins, right in her ear, “so smart, so talented, and the biggest badass this school has ever seen. In one minute, you’re going to make this test your bitch. Does that sound good?”

She pulls away, which normally he would complain about, but this time he won’t. Her smile keeps him as warm as her arms do.

“Probably the best pep talk you’ve ever given me, Patterson. You’re getting better.”

His brain short-circuits while contemplating if that was any attempt at flirting, but then the school bell rings, and she’s yelling a thank-you at him from down the hall as she makes her way to calculus.

His heart swells as he watches her bounce into the classroom, and hopes that if anyone in the universe is listening to his thoughts, that they also have the power to help her pass the test.

That weekend, Julie is too focused on reloading the online gradebook on her laptop than writing with Luke. He knows she’s anxious to see the results, but he was more hoping that songwriting with him could distract her from her anxieties.

“Anything yet?”

(He can’t nag her about it, because that’s just rude. All he can do is support her.)

He watches in anticipation as she hits reload, again, but a familiar red dot lingers next to the listing of her calc class: The red dot meaning that something has been added to the gradebook.

“It’s there!” She essentially screams, temporarily leaping up from the piano bench before sitting back down, and automatically setting her fingernails up in her mouth to bite them. “Oh my God, what if I failed? What if I still have a C+, or a C-, or a D, oh my God-”

“Jules, you passed.”

“But what if I didn’t?”

“I know you. You passed.”

Julie doesn’t say anything -- only stares at the computer in contempt. Luke, boldly, slides the computer over to himself and angles it away from her.

“I’m going to check, okay?”

She doesn’t say no. He opens the link where all of her graded assignments in her calculus class are, and there it is:

98/100

“Oh my God,” he mutters, clearly in awe.

Well, maybe not so clearly, because panic flashes in Julie’s eyes.

“Oh my God?! Is that bad?”

“Jules… You got a 98. Out of 100. You got an A. An A+. Your grade is a B.”

The way that her jaw drops and her hands dart up to pull the computer back in her direction is priceless. Luke is only grinning at her, because he knew she could do it -- if anyone could, it’s her.

“I did it,” she whispers to herself. “Holy shit, I did it!”

There she goes again, bouncing off of the piano bench, and jumping around on the cold floor of her garage in fuzzy socks and making Luke wonder how much love and sunshine and energy can go in one little body. He doesn’t hesitate to join her, standing up himself.

“Yes you did! I knew you could do it, Julie. I never doubted-”

He’s cut off by the impact of her body throwing itself against him in a tight, energized hug. Pride swells in his heart.

He lets himself lift his arms around her waist, indulging in the feeling of holding her so close. She’s this beautiful, magnetic force of nature that he had surrendered to long ago.

“You’re amazing, Jules.”

The feeling of her lips against his cheek sends him practically spiraling.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” she grins at him. “You studied with me day and night even though you aren’t in calculus and didn’t know a thing, but you quizzed me and worked with me and-”

He kisses her. Like, on the lips.

(Yeah. He’s surprised too.)

It was just watching her glow, like the star she is, and she gets so animated when she talks and even though she single-handedly saved the future of their band she’s praising him for holding flashcards in front of her face and he loves her. She’s too much and at the same time she wasn’t enough; so he kissed her.

And she doesn’t pull away.

It’s… Charged. That’s his way to describe it. There’s so much excitement in their embrace that the kiss is strong and determined and God it’s been a long time coming.

When they pull away, she isn’t yelling at him for violating her or coming onto her, so he keeps himself close by letting his lips brush along her jaw, and then her cheek; followed by her nose, eyelids, forehead, and really anywhere. It was like there was all of this love was pouring out of him but it was only meant to be put on her.

“I’m so proud of you,” he whispers into her skin, thrilled by the goosebumps he sees as a result.

“I love you,” she sighs, and he desperately wants to know if she means that in the best friend way she’s always used it or if she’s finally joining him on the flip side, where he’s been waiting for her. But he doesn’t want to pry.

So he settles with repeating her words back to her, and she’s able to feel his lips form every word against her neck, and he lets her pull him back in for another kiss.

They can figure out anything else later.

#juke #jatp fanfic #juke fanfic #jatp

138 notes · View notes

silversatoru · 3 years

Text

hot chocolate

megumi x yuuji

synopsis: megumi’s days get a little less boring when yuuji starts stopping by his coffee shop

tags/warnings: fluff, college au!, coffee shop au!, characters are aged up, making out, swearing

word count: 3780

The whipped cream bottle whizzed and sputtered, the scarce remains of its contents flying all over the counter. Megumi stifled a few cuss words under his breath, silently cursing whoever finished the whipped cream and didn't replace it with a new one. He tossed it in the garbage and drug himself into the back of the shop in search of a fresh bottle. He was only two hours into his shift at his university's coffee shop, but it had easily been the longest two hours of his life. Midterms were this week, meaning every student on campus was stopping by for some extra caffeine to get through their day.

When he finally returned with his new container of whipped cream, the line of students had nearly doubled — what a hassle. He threw a quick, fluffy spiral of cream onto the drink he'd been working on and gave it to the customer, apologizing for the wait. He shoved the money into the old cash register and handed them their change, a small sigh leaving his lips as the next customer approached.

It was an athletic looking boy with pink spiky hair and a round face. He wore a baggy sweatshirt and sweatpants, and his rose-colored hair looked as if he had just rolled out of bed. Megumi didn't recognize him, which was weird because he had a knack for memorizing the faces of every student who walked in and out of the shop.

"Hi, what can I get for you today?" Megumi spoke in his signature monotone voice, too tired to add any customer service flare.

"I'm not sure," The boy stared up at the menu with a terribly confused expression on his face.

"What do you mean you're not sure?" Megumi stared at the boy like he had two heads — he'd been waiting in line for at least ten minutes and he still hadn't decided?

"Well, I don't actually like coffee. So, I'm not sure what to get," he stated bluntly.

"If you don't like coffee, why did you come to a coffee shop. We literally only sell coffee," Megumi deadpanned.

"Well, I want to try and force myself like coffee — acquire the taste, you know? For the caffeine and stuff. Maybe you could recommend me a drink?"

"Uh... yeah sure. I'll just make you what I usually get," Megumi had to forcibly stop himself from rolling his eyes at the customer.

"Okay, great!" The pink-haired student called after him as he walked over to the array of coffee machines.

Megumi grabbed a cup for hot beverages, sliding it under the latte machine and filling the it with the warm brown liquid. He stirred in some oat milk and a drizzle of honey before topping it off with a layer of cream. He made his way back over to the peculiar customer and carefully handed him the drink.

"It's a honey oat milk latte," Megumi stated plainly.

"I'm not even sure what a latte is, but thank you!" His lips twisted into a toothy smile as he handed Megumi his debit card.

The dark-haired boy swiped his card through then machine and finished the transaction before returning it to the boy, "Have a nice day".

"Thanks, you too! My name is Itadori Yuuji by the way, it was nice to meet you...," he squinted his eyes in attempt to read Megumi's name badge, "Fushiguro! That's a cool name".

"Uh, thanks. I have to help the next customer now," Megumi rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly — this whole interaction was so weird.

"Oh, right. Thank you again!" He called out as he turned and left the shop.

Megumi found it impossibly hard to concentrate on his job after that. For some reason his mind was consumed by his interaction with Itadori Yuuji — the peculiar pink-haired student. He found himself still thinking about it later that night, even after working all morning and attending classes all afternoon. No amount of school work was able to distract his mind from this stupid new boy.

When he woke up the next morning and slipped on his apron before heading to work, he wondered if the pink-haired boy would be back again today. He searched all morning for a head of fluffy pink hair amongst the hoards of students, but he never came.

Around ten o'clock the coffee shop always dies down, as all the students and teachers are in class. Megumi leaned back against the counter and pulled out his phone, mindlessly scrolling through twitter while he waited for a customer to show up.

The golden bells hanging from the front door emitted a soft ringing sound, signaling that someone had entered the shop. Megumi looked up to see a baggy sweatshirt and messy pink hair, and for some reason his heart jumped.

"Hey, Fushiguro!" Yuuji's face was plastered with a bright smile.

Megumi scrunched up his nose, it was weird for the boy to call him by his name — they didn't even know each other.

"Hey, how was the honey oat milk latte?" Megumi slid his phone back into his pocket and approached the counter.

"Oh, it was terrible. Fucking awful, actually," Yuuji's faced scrunched up in horror as he reminisced on the atrociously bitter flavor.

Megumi was genuinely offended. Yuuji could have told him he was the ugliest person he'd ever seen, that he had the personality of a brick wall, but to insult his coffee? That was crossing a line. Megumi knew his coffee-making skills were impeccable.

"Excuse me?" Was all he could manage.

"Yeah, it was probably one of the worst things I've ever put in my mouth. Anyway, I was hoping to try something different today," Yuuji said nonchalantly, his hands resting comfortably in the pocket of his hoodie.

"Okay..." Megumi took a deep breath, trying desperately to keep his cool, "What would you like to try?"

"Could you just make something for me again? I really don't know what to order".

"But you hated my last recommendation," Megumi stared at him blankly.

"Yeah... but eventually you'll have to make something I like," Yuuji insisted.

Megumi grumbled a quick "alright" and headed back over to the machinery, searching his mind for a recipe Yuuji might like. Eventually, he decided on a caramel macchiato — everyone likes those. He handed Yuuji the drink and the pink haired boy quickly payed before leaving the shop again.

Megumi watched him as he walked past the coffee shop windows and took a sip of his drink. The pink haired boy's face twisted with disgust, and he looked like he could barely keep the liquid down. He immediately took another sip, his body having the exact same reaction as the first time. Megumi let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head as he watched that absolute idiot until he could no longer see him.

He continued to refer to Yuuji as stupid, weird, or annoying, but that was completely contradictory to the fact that he couldn't get the pink-haired boy out of his mind. He found himself wondering if he would come back again for a third time, and if he did, what drink would Megumi make him? A small part of him was getting invested in this outlandish journey of finding a drink that Yuuji actually liked.

That night Megumi had a revelation — maybe hot coffee just wasn't Yuuji's thing. He decided that tomorrow he'd make him something cold, that was sure to work.

So, when the third day rolled around and Yuuji's messy pink hair came waltzing into the campus coffee shop, Megumi made him an iced cinnamon dolce latte. This time though, Yuuji followed him over to the array of coffee machines, asking him questions about how coffee was made. Megumi found himself explaining the entire process, from how the coffee is brewed to what sweeteners and creams he was adding to this particular beverage. He was honestly appalled by his own actions, he would never put in this kind of effort for any of his other customers — so what made Yuuji so different?

"So, what's your major?" Yuuji questioned while Megumi dusted some cinnamon over the top of his drink.

"Biology with a minor in veterinary technology," Megumi answered without looking up at him, snapping the plastic lid onto the coffee cup.

"Ohhh somebody's smart," Yuuji mused, "Animals, huh?"

"Yeah, they don't talk as much as people do," Megumi said, only half-joking.

"Right? People can be so annoying sometimes," Yuuji shook his head.

Megumi found his lips cracking into the tiniest smile — how ironic and blissfully unaware this boy was. He seemed to truly live life without a care in the world.

"What's yours?" Megumi asked, finally stretching out his arm and handing the pink-haired boy his iced coffee.

"Oh, sports med," Yuuji responded, his nose scrunching up as he took the first sip of his drink.

That answer didn't surprise Megumi at all, given the boy's athletic physique it was obvious he was into that sort of thing. The poor reaction to Megumi's coffee didn't surprise him either — this endeavor to find him a drink he likes is proving to be futile.

"Not good?"

"So bad," Yuuji shook his head, his eyes filled with despair and disgust, "We'll find one eventually though!"

"Maybe," Megumi didn't know it, but his face softened when he talked to Yuuji, his shoulders fell and his jaw unclenched.

There was so something so simple and calming about conversing with that strange boy.

"Well, thanks anyway! See you tomorrow Fushiguro!" His voice rung out through the shop — he really had no volume control when he spoke.

Megumi found himself watching Yuuji through the windows until he could no longer see him again —this was becoming a bad habit.

When the rush of students on their way to morning classes finally died down, one of his coworkers approached him.

"Sweet cream?" The boy questioned him, one of his eyebrows raised in suspicion.

His coworkers name was Inumaki Toge, and he was deaf and mute — selectively mute, anyway. He only communicated in words related to coffee, which was entirely too strange for most people, but Megumi didn't mind.

The two of them had been friends since Megumi first got this job two years ago. They'd even created their own communication system — Toge would talk in coffee terms, which translated to certain things that really only Megumi understood. Then, the dark-haired boy would respond in sign language, a skill he learned just so he could talk to the boy. It broke his stone-cold heart when he first started working here and saw Toge was always alone in the back of the shop. Most students didn't have the time or energy to learn a whole new language for the sake of someone they didn't know, but Megumi decided to put in the effort.

Megumi rolled his eyes, signing that no, he and the pink-haired boy were not friends.

"Americano," Toge furiously crossed his arms over his chest, accusing Megumi of lying to him.

I'm not lying! He's been coming here the past few days for coffee. I don't know why he talks to me so much, Megumi quickly signed back, his eyes narrowed at the white-haired boy.

Toge rolled his eyes at him in the hardest, most exaggerated way possible.

He's just a customer Toge, don't look at me like that, Megumi folded his fingers into the different signs, his frustration towards the mute boy growing.

"Espresso," Toge mumbled under his breath, twisting and returning to his spot at the back of the shop where would grind coffee beans and restock their shelves.

What? You're out of your fucking mind Toge. I do not like him, he's just a regular customer, Megumi angrily signed at him, but it was to no use, as the deaf boy had already turned around and was paying him no mind.

Their conversation lingered in his head for the remainder of the day though, because maybe Toge was onto something. Megumi was terrified to admit it, but Yuuji's daily visits had quickly become the best part of his day, even if he was kind of annoying.

And it continued to be the best part of his day for the next few weeks. Yuuji would come to the shop everyday and they would make pointless small talk while Megumi brewed him new drinks to try. Not a single one ever suited his palate, but he continued to return none the less. His motives were becoming questionable at this point — was he still coming for the coffee, or had this turned into something much bigger?

So, when winter break was right around the corner, and the last day of classes began, Megumi wondered what his days would be like when he didn't have their daily interactions to look forward to.

It was especially snowy today — enough to dust the ground and freeze the air, but not enough for classes to get canceled. Bundled students trudged in and out of the shop, buying coffees and hot chocolates in attempt to keep themselves warm. Their was an excited energy in the air though, it seemed everyone was thrilled for fall semester to be over — everyone except Megumi.

His heart skipped a few beats when Yuuji's familiar soft face appeared in the door.

"Hey, Megumi!" He called out, waving his had furiously through the air.

Somehow they had transitioned to a first name basis about a week ago — the dark-haired boy wasn't even sure how it happened but he certainty didn't mind it.

"Hey, you want something warm or cold today?"

"Definitely warm," Yuuji answered quickly, a shiver coursing its way through his body.

Megumi nodded, getting to work on something that he was sure Yuuji would like.

"Are you visiting family over break?" Yuuji wasted no time addressing their winter-break dilemma.

"No," Megumi shrugged his shoulders, he was one of the very few students who never went home on holidays.

"No family to visit. I live in an off-campus apartment so I just stay here over breaks".

Megumi expected Yuuji to frown, maybe even show him some pity for his unfortunate situation, but he did the complete opposite instead. He lips spread into the widest smile, and he swore he saw him jump in excitement.

"Me too! I used to visit my grandfather, but he died a couple years ago. My holidays have been pretty lonely".

Megumi looked up at him, a bewildered expression on his face. Who could have known that someone as cheerful as Yuuji was carrying such a burden?

"Where do you live? Maybe we could hang out over break," the pink-haired boy cocked his head to the side.

"Second street," Megumi answered, filling Yuuji's cup with steaming brown liquid.

He certainly wasn't opposed to the idea of seeing Yuuji more often, but it scared him just as much as it excited him.

"I live on Third! I can't believe we haven't run into each other before," Yuuji gasped.

Megumi wordlessly finished up the hot drink, subtly scribbling his address and his phone number onto the coffee label while the other boy blabbed on about how close they lived. When he was done he held it out to him, the pink-haired boy reaching out with his mitten-covered hands to take the drink.

He took a small sip and his eyes sparkled like they held the stars inside of them.

"This is so good! What kind is it?" Yuuji asked, eagerly taking another sip and inevitably burning his tongue on the hot beverage.

"Hot chocolate," Megumi spoke plainly, "I've come to the conclusion that it's impossible for you to like coffee".

"You're probably right," Yuuji nodded, "I think I'm more of a hot chocolate guy".

"No, you're a child with immature taste in drinks," Megumi scrunched up his nose.

Yuuji faked offense, and then held up his hand and attempted to flip Megumi off through his mitten — but it didn't really work.

That's when he noticed the dark-haired boy's phone number and address scribbled on the side of his cup. A light blush dusted over his cheeks and he offered Megumi a warm smile.

"I'll see you around!" He called.

A thousand butterflies flew around Megumi's stomach as he watched the boy leave and walk down the snowy sidewalk. What the hell kind of cheesy hallmark movie was his life turning into?

"Americano," Toge's accusatory voice shook Megumi out of his trance.

Okay fine, maybe I'm a liar. Fuck off, Megumi signed at him, to which the deaf boy chuckled to himself.

☃

It was Christmas Eve now, and classes had ended a few days ago. Megumi checked his phone obsessively, but a text from Yuuji never appeared. He started to doubt that the boy actually meant what he said about wanting to hang out — maybe he was just being nice and Megumi had taken it the wrong way. He couldn't help but feel disappointed, no matter how much he wished he didn't care. He'd even taken a container of the coffee shops' hot chocolate powder for Yuuji. He planned on gifting it to him, because he had liked it so much.

So, when six o'clock at night rolled around and there was still no sign of the cheery pink-haired boy, he felt his heart squeeze in his chest. Who knew he was so invested in this idiot?

A light knock on his front door pulled him out of his thoughts, and his heart leaped into his throat. He peered through the small peep hole of his door and euphoria spread through his body — the stupid, spiky-haired boy had finally arrived.

He opened the door and Yuuji immediately blushed, his eyes wide as he looked around Megumi's apartment.

"Hi," He squeaked, "Sorry I didn't text or anything".

"It's okay," He ushered the boy inside and closed the door behind him.

"I stopped at a convenience store and bought some cookie dough. I thought we could make them, since yanno, it's a Christmas Eve thing".

Megumi found his own cheeks get warm at the other boy's forwardness. Baking cookies felt so familial, not like something you'd do with a coffee shop acquaintance. But none the less, he nodded his head and guided Yuuji into the kitchen.

The awkwardness between them quickly melted away as they rolled out the dough and attempted to cut out fun Christmas-themed shapes. Megumi chewed on his bottom lip as he focused on the intricate snowflake cookie was trying to make, his perfectionism getting way too involved. Yuuji on the other hand held up a half-smushed blob with a few spikes coming out of the top and two holes punched through the middle.

"It's you!" he laughed, holding his monstrosity of a cookie up for Megumi to see.

The dark-haired boy scoffed, "That's terrible, it looks nothing like me".

"Sorry, Mr. I'm smart and good at art. Are you sure you're not a sculpting student or something?" Yuuji stuck his nose in the air, carefully placing his Megumi cookie on the greased metal tray.

They each cut out a couple more shapes before the oven let out a loud ding to let them know it was preheated. Megumi picked up the tray and shuffled over to the oven, carefully placing it on the top rack. He closed the door before standing up and turning around — bumping right into Yuuji, who for some reason was standing right behind him. They were the exact same height, so Megumi's nose practically slammed into Yuuji's. He blushed furiously, quickly backing up into the counter.

"Sorry," he mumbled a quick apology, though Yuuji had been the one standing right behind him, so maybe he should apologize.

"Can I ask you a question?" Yuuji cocked his head to the side, completely ignoring Megumi's apology.

"Sure?" Megumi gave him a confused look.

"This is more than just two coffee shop friends hanging out, right? You can kick me out if I'm wrong, but if I'm right, I'd really like to kiss you while those cookies bake".

Megumi's eyes widened, his heart thumping hard against the walls of his chest. Of course he wanted to kiss Yuuji, he'd wanted to for weeks — it was all he thought about while he brewed him his stupid coffees everyday.

"Yeah... yeah, you're right," Megumi nodded, those few words were all that he could manage.

That clarification was all that Yuuji needed, a soft smile blossoming on his face before he stepped forward and cupped his fingers around the back of Megumi's neck. Heat spread through his face as their lips collided, every other one of his senses fading away as his body honed in on Yuuji's touch.

He'd been kissed before, several times by both men and women — but none of them compared to this. None of them were this gentle, soft, and electrifying all at the same time. Yuuji's fingers curled into the base of Megumi's hair, and he found his own hands tracing up the sides of the others' torso. He was completely drowning in the ocean that was Yuuji's lips, his mind growing foggy. He'd imagined what this would be like far too many times, but never once did he think it would be this good.

The ten minute timer Megumi had set on the oven started blaring through the kitchen, and he couldn't believe it had been that long already. A soft sigh escaped his throat as Yuuji pulled away, a smile tugging at the other's lips.

"I didn't expect so much experience from the quiet coffee barista," Yuuji poked at him, his eyes glistening with a fire that hadn't been there before.

"Don't judge a book by its cover, I guess," Megumi shrugged, grabbing his oven mitt and pulling the cookies out of the oven.

The pink-haired boy let out a light chuckle, immediately trying to grab a cookie off the metal sheet. Megumi swatted his hand away, insisting that the cookies would be too hot eat right away.

Megumi found his lips intertwined with Yuuji's again after setting down the tray — after all they'd have to pass the time while the cookies cooled somehow.

And so for the first time in a long time, Megumi didn't spend Christmas alone. Rather, he spent it with an overly-cheerful pink-haired boy who became a ray of sunshine in his life of clouds. Though he wished he liked his coffee, Megumi had no problem with brewing him hot chocolate instead. And he did, every morning for the rest of the spring semester he always had a cup of hot chocolate ready for Yuuji. He'd even stopped charging him for it at this point, throwing on a free drink discount every time he came.

#jjk #jjk oneshot #jujutsukaisen #fushiguro megumi #itadori yuuji #fushiguro x itadori #itadori x fushiguro #megumi x yuuji #yuuji x megumi #fushiguro x itadori fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff

59 notes · View notes

ppangjae · 4 years

Text

Minor Inconvenience • 01 | Jaehyun

this is based off a post I made. it wasn’t supposed to happen but I caved in and decided to just write it! behold, lab professor!jaehyun!

note. this will be on-going but the updates will be quite slow because i have a ton of other WIPs to finish 😔 just like my barista!jaehyun and enemies to lovers!au drabbles, this too, will sort of compile into a short drabble collection. i hope that made sense? hope you like it, though!

SERIES MASTERLIST — next

Students do double-takes on him all the time. It’s been his new normal ever since he started working for the university. His existence throws people off and he’s not surprised. He wouldn’t even dare to blame them for it either.

To say that Jung Jaehyun is the smartest alumni in his year would be an understatement. He picked up sports, volunteered at two different hospitals, topped all of his undergrad classes, worked with two professors, and even graduated Summa Cum Laude. His fellow peers weren’t surprised that he had already landed a job at the university as a lab professor even before graduation.

And so Jung Jaehyun finds himself back in university not as an undergrad but as a lab professor.

He decides to start his first day by stopping by the cafe to pick up his morning coffee on-the-go. There are students everywhere. They are scrambling to get to their 8 am lecture. Some are reuniting with their friends whom they haven’t seen for a whole summer.

And then there are students like you, who are taking their time, second by second, minute by minute. You glance at your wristwatch for the time. There’s about an hour and a half to spare before your first chemistry lab session of the semester. You’re not much of an early bird, but these days, you’ve been up before the sun. It may be because of the excitement you have pumping through your veins, reminding you that this is your last year of undergrad.

Your last year of undergrad, you smile. You promise to make it worth the while because this is an opportunity to change your life for the better.

“I’ll take a medium vanilla latte, please and thank you.”

You’re making your way towards the pick-up station. The cafe is extremely busy at this time with students coming in for their caffeine boost and running out to get to their lectures on time. But amidst the hustle and bustle of the cafe, there’s a man that catches your eye.

“Vanilla latte for Y/N?”

You tear your gaze from the man to take your drink and thank the lovely barista. Just as you’re turning around, you find the man already standing next to you. He’s waiting for his drink, you assume. He looks young and handsome. You could tell from his hair that’s dyed a blue black and his sense of style. He’s sporting a white, long-sleeved button up with the sleeves rolled up to show his forearms. He’s wearing a nice pair of black skinny jeans. Is he a graduate student? Is he doing a Masters degree? How come you’ve never seen him before?

You don’t ponder on it for long because when you turn around to leave, someone accidentally bumps into your back, causing you to fall forward. Your vanilla latte slips from your hands and you watch your drink spill all over the handsome man’s white button-up.

Shit.

A gasp is the first thing that leaves your lips.

“I’m so sorry!” You exclaim in complete shock and embarrassment. You wince when he groans and looks at you with annoyance.

“Couldn’t you have been a bit more careful?” The man grimaces as he looks down at his coffee-stained shirt.

Out of sheer panic, you’re grabbing some napkins and dabbing at the stain on his shirt. He thinks it’s a bit excessive and unnecessary. He sighs.

“Do you really think wiping it off with a napkin will work?” He asks and you look up at him. “Unbelievable.”

You retreat your hands away from him with a frown etched on your face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I’m just trying to help—”

“And it’s clearly not working.” He folds his arms.

“At least I’m making an effort to help, sir.” You argue back. “It was clearly an accident and I’ll do anything for this minor inconvenience.”

“Just forget it.” He mutters. “It’s not like you’re going to buy me a new shirt.”

You scoff. “Excuse me?”

He quirks an eyebrow. “I said, forget it.”

“Fine. Again, I’m sorry.” You apologize. “If that isn’t enough, then I apologize. That’s all I can do for you.”

And with a huff, you leave him standing there, completely astonished.

Jaehyun looks at his reflection in the mirror. The huge coffee stain bugs the shit out of him. Sure, it’s a minor inconvenience, but this is Jaehyun. Even the slightest inconveniences are enough to ruin his day. He grumbles a few curses under his breath before buttoning up his lab coat to cover the stain.

“We have a couple of minutes left before the doors open for the first class.”

“Is there anything I should know?” Jaehyun asks his fellow professor, Kim Doyoung.

Doyoung shakes his head. “It’s a pretty competitive group. But there’s this one undergrad that has been pretty consistent with her grades since freshman year.”

“I’m assuming she’ll want to pursue lab work after graduating.” He says.

“Like us?” Doyoung grins.

“Like us.” Jaehyun smiles.

“She’ll be in your group.” Doyoung adds. “Y/N is her name, I think.”

“I’ll keep an eye on her,” he reassures him.

Doyoung looks at the wall clock and clasps his hands together. The two of them put on their lab goggles before heading towards the doors to let the undergrads in. Just as they are about to open the doors, Doyoung glances at Jaehyun.

“It’s nice to have you back, Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun chuckles. “I never thought I’d be back.”

“As a lab professor?”

Jaehyun nods his head.

“As a lab professor.”

Chemistry has always been one of your biggest passions. Your father was a chemist and you took interest in it when your father brought you along to work to watch him do what he loves. It wasn’t much of a surprise to him when you told him that you were going to pursue chemistry in university. It was more so a feeling of pride because his passion had been passed down to you.

“I heard our lab professor is a newly-graduated student. Apparently he graduated two years ago but he was called back to be a lab professor.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “And where did you get that from, Wendy?”

She bites her lip. “You don’t remember Jung Jaehyun?”

“Who’s that?”

She gasps. “How do you not know Jung Jaehyun? He’s a living legend. He graduated from the Faculty of Chemistry and because he’s really smart, the Faculty hired him as a lab professor.”

“Impressive.” You purse your lips into a tight line. “So, from what you’ve heard, he’s going to be our lab professor?”

“Yeah,” she taps her foot nervously. “If it’s true, I think I might have a heart attack.”

“I think you’re overexaggerating—”

“I’m not! Imagine working at your station and having a handsome god watching you work.” She panics. “I’ll definitely screw up in front of him. I just know it.”

“Just do your best and everything will be fine—”

The doors to the lab open and Wendy lets out a yelp. She clings onto you and you laugh. Standing at the door is someone very familiar to you. It’s Kim Doyoung, a famous alumni who’s in his last year of his Masters. He’s been a lab professor for most of his Masters degree and he was your lab professor for the previous school year. You’re not surprised to see him again.

“Before you enter the lab, please place your things into the lockers on this side of the door. I’m sure you all brought your lab gear, so please put them on as well.”

You and Wendy share a look.

The small group enters the lab. It takes a bit of time to get to your lab stations. You make your way towards your lab station. It’s been a while since you’ve last worked at your station and knowing that this is the last time you’ll be working at it feels a bit bittersweet. Wendy arrives at her work station that’s right next to yours and turns on the light of the fume hood that you both share.

“Get settled because we’ll be starting in three minutes!” You hear Doyoung announce.

“Why is Doyoung standing over there?” Wendy whispers.

You turn around to see him standing in front of the other group on the other side of the lab room. “Oh yeah, you’re right.”

“He’s not going to teach us this semester?” She asks in a hushed tone. “Oh no, I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

You bite your lip nervously.

Three minutes pass as if it was one second and soon enough, your new lab professor stands at the front. Wendy covers her mouth to suppress a gasp. You raise an eyebrow, standing on your tiptoes to get a better look at your lab professor for the semester.

You feel your blood run cold and your face grow pale.

Your lab professor is sporting a long lab coat but it would be impossible for the familiar coffee-stain seen on his white button-up shirt to be left unnoticed.

“Welcome back. I hope you all had a great summer vacation. My name is Jung Jaehyun, and I’ll be your lab professor for the semester. I hope to make great memories with each one of you.”

You wish you could disappear into thin air.

tag list: @markdorklee @hoeneyhoeney

#jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun scenario #jaehyun #jaehyun blurbs #jaehyun fluff #jung jaehyun scenarios #jung jaehyun scenario #jung jaehyun #jung jaehyun blurbs #jung jaehyun fluff #nct #nct 127 #nct scenarios #nct 127 scenarios

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redrobinfection · 4 years

Text

(16) Graveyard

SociallyAwkwardFox’s Spooktober (2018) - Day 16 “Graveyard”

~*~

"How about four out of seven?" Tim asked with a shrug, winding up the toilet paper roll again.

Damian, his fellow barista, threw his roll at Tim's head, missing wildly. He glared. "You cheated, Drake!"

Tim rolled his eyes as he retrieved Damian's roll and began winding it up too. "How could I cheat at coffee cup bowling, ‘Wayne’?"

"You wind your roll too tightly. It doesn't unravel as much when you pitch it and thus has more mass by the time it hits the cups."

Tim raised his eyebrows. "What are you now, a physics major? That just sounds like strategy, dude. You are free to roll your roll as tightly as you'd like. That isn't against the rules."

Damian fumed. "The rules��you made up! This is why I said we should use the rice crispy ba--customer."

Tim whirled on the spot, seeing that, indeed, a paying customer had entered their little, semi-enclosed coffee shop. Outside, a few students sat or sprawled over the sectional couches that filled the large basement of the university student union in which the shop was located.

Tim turned and vaulted over the counter. He heard a quiet "-tch-" from Damian as he walked to the hinged raise-able section of the counter and let himself in.

Tim straightened his apron and stepped up the register with a smile. The customer stood about five feet from the register, head tilted back, studying the menu board over Tim's head with bleary eyes. The guy was like a zombie, he was that exhausted. Tim cut his eyes over to the clock on the wall. 3:45 am. Hell of a time for coffee.

Tim glanced over his shoulder at Damian, who was reawakening the cranky espresso machine with deft fingers. Seven hours and forty-five minutes with Damian "the Demon " Wayne down, only four hours and fifteen minutes to go. Tim turned back to their customer and sighed. This was going to be a loooooooong morning.

At second glance, there was something familiar about the guy, but Tim couldn't put his finger on where he knew him. The guy had pretty teal eyes, but they were reddened and dull, like he hadn't closed them except to blink in way too long. He was also pretty well cut, Tim noticed, with clearly muscled arms and pecs so defined that Tim could clearly see them through the man's sweater. Maybe that's how Tim knew him? Maybe he'd seen him in the UREC weight room?

The guy's most eye-catching feature by far was the white forelock that curled down over his forehead. He was the third person Tim had met to have a whitened forelock like that; the other two were fraternal twins who had had small patches of albinism right at their widows peaks which affected both the skin and hair. Tim idly wondered if this guy's white lock was natural too. In any case, it looked frickin' cool, a lot cooler than his own; the best thing he could say about his own hair was that he could pull off the 90's curtain cut plus semi-mullet well enough that he could go an entire semester on a single haircut.

Tim was drawn out of his thoughts when dude finally stepped up to the counter and began to speak.

"Uh, hi, could I get a large, double-shot caramel latte?"

"Absolutely. How many pumps of caramel do you want?" Tim asked cheerily.

The guy looked up from digging through his overly stuffed messenger bag. "Uhh…the normal four should be fine."

"Okay, that will be $6.47. Can I get a name for the order?"

The guy didn't look up this time. "Uh, Jason. Gimme a sec', I know my wallet is at the bottom of this thing somewhere."

"No problem, take your time. It's not like we have a line, anyway," Tim joked.

This guy looked so dead right now--inside and out--that if he didn't find his wallet, then Tim would probably just buy the coffee for the guy himself. He understood better than anyone the sudden need for caffeine at odd hours of the day. He's not sure how he would have finished half his computer science projects this term without a much-needed double-espresso every couple of hours, to be honest.

The guy--'Jason' apparently--finally fished out a small money clip then handed over a student ID card. "Put it on my Dining Dollars, please."

"Yeah, no probl- wait a minute!" Tim cut off, staring. Suddenly, it had hit Tim where he knew this guy. "Aren't you that kid who always sits at the front of Professor Hyatt's nine-fifteen, Tuesday-Thursday, Modern European Literature and answers all the questions?"

The dude raised an eyebrow. "Uh, yeah. Why…? Wait…" He squinted and leaned in. "Aren't you the kid who once tried to sit all the way back in the AV booth, since, and I quote, 'the back wasn't far enough back'?"

Tim grinned as he swiped the ID card through the register. "Haha, yeah."

Damian moved as if to step up to the counter, the guy's drink in hand, but stopped dead about a foot away. He stared.

"Wait. Aren't you the guy who always comes in, gets tea, and sits in the window over there and reads romance novels?" Damian asked, eying him appraisingly.

The dude huffed. "Yes. My name is Jason--by the way--and they're not romance novels, it's classic lit. Now can I get my coffee?"

Damian handed the coffee over the counter, but raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You mean to tell me Rebecca is not a romance novel?"

"Wait, what!? Do you mean Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca?" Tim asked as he handed Jason's ID card back over the counter.

Damian nodded wordlessly. Tim snorted, then said, "That's not a romance! That's a totally a murder mystery! You must be confusing it with Jane Eyre. I get those mixed up too."

Jason nodded in agreement, tucking his ID away before taking his first sip of coffee. He moaned, his eyes fluttering for a moment as he savored in the sweet bliss of piping hot caffeine at 3:49 in the morning, then he looked at Damian and said, "Well, actually, I'll give you that one, uh…" --he paused to squint at Damian's name tag-- "...'Damian'; Rebecca is a modern romance novel by classification, but it's also a crime thriller just like--whazzatsay?--'Tim' said."

He turned to Tim. "I'm not surprised you'd confuse it with Jane Eyre, considering that a lot of scholars believe du Maurier adapted it from Jane Eyre."

"Wait, really?" Tim said with a laugh. "I'm glad I'm not the only one thinking that! Rebecca is like the less boring version of Jane Eyre."

Jason froze halfway into sitting down in one of the arm chairs that lined the wall closest to the door and looked up at Tim as if he had just suggested burning down the library or something similarly unthinkable. "Whaaaaaat?! I can't believe you just implied that any of the Brontë sisters' works is boring!"

Tim laughed again. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I was only twelve when I read Jane Eyre, so maybe I'd enjoy it more if I read it again now--with a mature perspective--but I remember Rebecca being a blast for thirteen-year-old me so…" He smiled, then shrugged.

Jason stared. "Twelve? Thirteen? Jeez. What else were you trying to read that young?"

"I mean, I read Moby Dick the year before that, in sixth grade," Tim admitted, shrugging until his shoulders hit his ears.

Jason gave him a flat stare. "Moby Dick? Moby fucking Dick? You've gotta be kidding me. And lemme guess, you also thought Herman Melville's masterpiece was a load of crock?"

Tim laughed, but shook his head and waved his hands placatingly. "No, no, no. I only understood, like, every fifth word--so.many.whaling.terms!--and it took me four months to get halfway in only to realize there was no way I was going to finish it by the end of the school year--I ended up skipping to the end and guessing for a lot of the AR test questions--but I definitely got the sense that it was a seminal work and that I was just too young to appreciate it. I've always meant to go back and try it again, but I still haven't gotten around to it."

"Why the hell were you trying to read Moby Dick at the age of twelve?" Jason asked incredulously, leaning back in the chair and taking a long sip of his coffee.

"Eleven, but, ah, well, my mom was convinced I had to be The BestTM in everything, so she pushed me to max out my Accelerated Reader level by the end of sixth grade and demanded that I always get the most AR points of anyone in my class, so I read a lot of the 20 point-and-up books." Tim tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I think Moby Dick was 47 points...Rebecca was 25...Jane Eyre was 33..."

Jason stared, shaking his head slowly. "So…what? You're fine with Moby Dick, a romance of the American Renaissance, but a gothic romance of the British Victorian era like Jane Eyre isn't good enough for you? Next you'll try to tell me you think Wuthering Heights is a snooze fest!"

"Well, I mean, I never could get into it, so…"

Jason slammed both hands down on the arms of his chair, incensed. "Okay, Mister, get your butt over here and sit down, we need to have a talk about Victorian Gothic and why, hands down, it is some of the best literature ever written."

Tim laughed again, then bit his lip, considering the offer. He glanced around the nearly empty coffee shop. Then he leaned over the counter and looked out into the lounge--there were exactly four people there and only one of them wasn't completely asleep in their books. Yeah, he could probably afford to humor the man.

He turned to Damian. "Hey, Dames, I'm going to make myself a coffee and take my break. You good to hold down the fort?"

"I told you not to call me that," Damian snapped, but there was no real heat to it; he liked to pretend that he hated the guts of all his coworkers, but Tim knew that he was Damian's favorite. "However, yes, I think I can manage. Go take your damned break, but when you come back I fully expect a rematch in bowling…and don't you dare cheat this time!"

Tim rolled his eyes and groaned, then turned toward trying to coax Ol' 'Spressolino--their affectionate name for the cantankerous espresso machine--into spitting out a double-shot for him. "It's not cheating, but fine, we'll do it your way," Tim replied. "But I'm telling you, you have to buy those rice crispy balls. I definitely don't want to have to explain to Barbara why some of the food on sale looks like it went through the spin cycle in a dorm washer."

Damian grinned smugly. "My pleasure. It will be a small price to pay in order to ensure your swift defeat."

Tim shook his head, grabbed his espresso in one hand and two biscotti off the front counter in the other, ducked under the counter drawbridge, then slid into the armchair across from Jason. He offered one of the biscotti to the other man and Jason accepted the free food with an appreciative smile. He already looked ten times less zombie-like, thanks to the caffiene, and he was honestly pretty damn attractive.

"Okay," Tim said, peeling the wrapper off his own biscotti and dunking it into his bitter cup of joy, "Educate me."

Between sips of coffee and bites of biscotti, Jason began explaining his thoughts on the romantic period of literature, but barely a minute into his lecture, a plastic-wrapped, ball-shaped rice crispy treat about the size of a cantelope whizzed by their feet and crashed into the ten extra-large paper coffee cups arranged in a bowling triangle at one end of the coffee shop, scattering them in a definitive strike.

Jason jumped in his seat and looked around wildly. "What the fuck?"

Tim sighed. "Daaaaaaamiaaaaaaan…"

"Shut up, Drake! I'm practicing. I need to hone my skills and adjust my form so I can thoroughly crush you in our next round," Damian called back. He marched from the counter to the end of the shop to retrieved his plastic-wrapped projectile.

Jason blinked in confusion. "I repeat: what the ever-loving fuck?"

Tim sighed again, then explained, saying, "It gets pretty boring in here during the graveyard shift, so we invented a game, coffee cup bowling. Normally, we'd sleep or study, but Damian finished his exams two days ago and I don't really study for exams, per se-"

"And sleep is for the weak," Damian finished, nodding as he walked past them carrying his sweet, gooey ammunition.

Tim nodded sagely, in agreement. "Sleep is for the weak."

Jason glanced over Tim's shoulder at the coffee cup bowling 'pins' and then over his shoulder at Damian as he lined up another throw. "You guys are insane," he declared.

Tim made a dismissive gesture. "I mean this is my third graveyard shift in a row and Damian here is almost 20 hours into a 24-hour stint. After that much sleep deprivation, you'd lose your sanity too."

Jason tilted his head in acknowledgement. "Fair enough."

"If you want, you're welcome to join us after we finish our coffee and literature talk," Tim offered amiably.

Jason watched as Damian threw another strike, sending one cup so far it landed in the pot of the ficus in the corner, and raised his eyebrows. "You know what…why not." He turned back to Tim with a grin. "I could use a bit of fun before I go back to work on my Native American Lit paper."

"Are you a lit major?" Tim asked curiously.

"I am."

Tim nodded. "That makes sense."

"And you?"

"I'm a CS major--computer science."

"That makes sense," Jason echoed, grinning.

Tim grinned back at him and waved a hand. "Okay, so as you were saying…?"

"Yes, as I was saying…"

Jason continued his little lecture while they continued sipping their coffee and nibbling on the biscotti. When they had finished--the coffee, not the discussion, because Tim was pretty sure Jason would go on for hours about literature once you got him started--they joined Damian in a game of "ten-cup."

It was in the middle of this heated battle of cups and marshmallow-bonded puffed-rice cereal balls that their next customer found them fifteen minutes later. The man, dressed in flower printed leggings and a black hoodie with "Gotham University Aerial Arts" printed across the chest in blue, took one look at them and grinned.

"Oh, hey! Coffee-cup bowling! I love that game! Do you think I could interrupt you guys for just a sec to get some hot chocolate?"

All three of them--the two baristas plus their customer--turned and stared.

"Hot… wait, what?" Jason said, laughing a little. "Man, it's like 4:30 in the morning. Why are you getting a hot chocolate at 4:30 in the morning?"

The man laughed, too, shrugging before he explained, saying, "I don't like tea or coffee all that much, but I just finished a 20 page paper on ethics in police enforcement and I need a pick me up. I need to get my warm fuzzies going again."

Tim rolled his eyes and sighed, moving back toward the counter to get the man his drink. "You're going to end up being the cuddliest cop on the street, Dick."

"You know it, Timmy!" the man--'Dick' apparently--exclaimed, pulling Tim into a bear hug when he made the mistake of passing too close to Dick on his way to the counter. The hug escalated into a full on octopus hug as he lifted his legs to wrap around Tim's hips. Tim, for his part, ignored the grapple, opening the leaf in the counter and hobbling over to the drink bar with the human cephalopod still attached.

Damian and Jason stared. Damian cleared his throat and eyed Dick with poorly disguised interest. "Wait, do you know this man, Drake?"

Tim blinked dully as he turned around, a cup in one hand and a packet of instant hot chocolate in the other. "Yes. He's my brother." Dick made a squeeing noise and nuzzled his head into Tim's neck. Tim sighed. "My adopted brother," he amended testily.

Dick laughed, dropped his feet back onto the floor and stood up. He nearly wrung Tim's neck as he tried to hug him around the shoulders. "Awww, don't be like that, Tim. We haven't seen each other in two whole weeks and I needed my Tim-hugs! Gotta meet my cuddle-quota."

Tim shook his head and handed the hot chocolate back over his shoulder. "You're insufferably, insatiably clingy when you're this tired, Dick. Go home and sleep."

Dick finally released him to take the drink. He took a sip of the hot chocolate, sighing in appreciation. "Thanks, Tim, and yeah, but, only if you do the same. You're just as bad as me when you haven't slept, if not worse."

"Can't. Working," Tim answered curtly, vaulting the counter to escape before Dick's grabby hands could reach for him again. His brother wasn't wrong; Tim was always up for a good cuddle after a long stint without proper sleep, but he didn't like public displays of affection.

Dick took one look at the nearly empty coffee shop, the three of them, their game, and then laughed out loud. "Ahhh, the days of getting paid to drink coffee and make up games at 4:30 in the morning. I kind of miss it."

"Would you care to join us," Damian asked abruptly. Dick brightened.

"Absolutely!"

And so that was how the four of them ended up bowling for empty coffee cups with rice crispy treats the size of spaghetti squash while blasting ABBA’s greatest hits--Dick's terrible, wonderful idea--until the sun rose and their shift ended, at eight AM.

By the time the four of them walked out the door, Dick was trying to convince Damian to join him in the aerials gym before breakfast, and Damian, clearly eager to do anything with the handsome college senior, accepted readily. Jason and Tim, on the other hand, were back to discussing literature over coffee--now focused on the merits and downfalls of contemporary science fiction and fantasy as an art form--and making their way to the East Campus Dining Hall, so they could continue their discussion over breakfast.

Tim snorted softly as he listened to Jason list all the ways Dune defined an era of sci-fi/fantasy, then smiled at the way Jason took his hand--without seeming to realize it--to pull him forward after the crosswalk light changed out of Tim's line of sight. Oh, yeah, this one was totally gay/bi/pan and he was definitely asking him out the minute he saw the opportunity, Tim decided.

He smiled. Who would of thought he'd come out of last night's graveyard shift not only having seen his demon coworker and his older brother hit it off--of all things!--but having met someone for himself too! He laughed, thinking, you never know what crazy things you might see, or the people you might meet, at the campus coffee shop at 4 o' clock in the morning!

#my writing #christmasriverswrites #jaytim #dickdami #tim and damian #pre-relationship #college au #no capes #new for 2020!#barely edited; life is rough right now 🙃

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starlightxsvt · 4 years

Text

The Tale Of A Coffee Shop

Pairing: Joshua x Female reader

Genre: Fluff, slight crack, bad attempt at romance, this is just bad

Warnings: Slight cursing

Word count: Idk, it's pretty long

8:35 am.

He should be here anytime. Your palms sweat, foot taps excitedly against the floor of the cafe. Though there's a lack of mirror, you try to smooth your hair with your hands, unnaturally cautious about your appearance.

"Calm down. It's not like he's gonna propose you or shit."

You turn to face your coworker who has a less than amused expression on her face. "Am I that obvious?"

"Duh. It's like written all over your face. Chill already y/n, he's just a man passing by. You don't even know his last name."

Your hopes shrink slightly though you are surprised at yourself. What are you actually hoping for? Him to ask you out? Your coworker is right, he's just a man passing by. Except, he's regular customer who's insatiably handsome and makes you all jittery.

The said male is Joshua, an English professor at the popular university near the cafe. That's all you know about him. He happened to pass by your workplace one spring morning, looking for a quick jolt of caffeine to start the day and he's been visiting ever since. He visits the cafe 3 days a week, around 8:30 in the morning, ordering his usual plain latte.

After the first couple visits, you made small talk with him and all he offered was his name and profession. He always seemed to in a hurry or busy but he was always polite.

And the most handsome man you have ever seen. He had luscious black locks which were somehow messy yet neatly arranged and touched the nape of his neck. His eyes always seemed to sparkle, hiding a galaxy of their own. High cheekbones, a perfect jawline, plump lips and to complete it all,an adams apple - he had it all.

His outfits were always neat and perfect, sometimes a trench coat covering a turtle neck, sometimes an unbuttoned blazer over a plain tee and of course, a wrist watch. Sometimes he'd wear glasses, big metal frames covering those eyes and those days you'd melt into a puddle on the inside. He looked so damn hot.

The bell at the door of the cafe chimes and your ears perk up, eyes moving to that direction.

He's here.

You try your best not to look like a love struck fool and offer a professional smile. "Welcome, sir."

"Hello, y/n. My usual please." comes his smooth voice and a polite smile.

"Yes sir, coming right up." You mutter, trying not pass out from the way he said your name while putting in his order.

He waits at the corner tapping away on his phone while his latte is prepared. Once it's done, you call his serial number, offering him his drink. "Your latte, sir."

"I've told you before, Joshua is fine."

You stare at him for a bit too long not understanding that he asked you to call him by his name. However, when you realize that, you are a blushing mess, unsure what to reply.

Joshua doesn't say anymore, only offers you a kind smile. And just like that, he's out the door, leaving you feeling warm all over.

"That was the most cringy thing I ever saw." Your co worker's voice brings you to reality. You roll your eyes and continue your work with a smile in your face.

✧

"You seriously need to stop thinking about that dude all the time." You friend says standing in front of you, crossing her arms.

"I do not think of him all the time." You say, ignoring her and squinting at the book in your hands.

"Then great. You are coming to the club with me tonight. I'll introduce you to some guys and I don't know... get you laid."

"Excuse me?"

"Okay okay, not get laid, just... Meet some guys you know, what's the harm in that? Do you wanna die virgin?"

"I-"

"Don't." She holds up her hands signaling you to stop. "You are coming. It's final. Thank me later when you find a hot dude."

✧

Hot dude my ass. You stare at the drink you got after getting away from your friends who were having too much fun getting drunk. You had almost zero alcohol tolerance and you knew that you had to stay sober to get them home safely.

As you had expected, none of the guys your friend introduced you to piqued your interest. You realized what a bad idea it was to come to the club rather than staying at home, curled up reading your favorite book. As the thrum of the music continued to blast through the club your thought only proved to be truer. But your friends wasn't leaving this place anything soon.

Damn you hated it here.

You realize someone sitting down on the barstool next to yours but don't look up, too busy tracing the edge of the glass in front of you with your fingers. It's until you move your head to take a swing of your drink that you take notice of the person beside you.

A small squeak leaves your mouth as you look at the man sitting beside you, thinking that the couple drinks you had got to you and started playing with your mind.

It was him. Joshua. The English professor.

You quickly cast your eyes back on your drink but then glance a peek at his direction just to make sure.

Of course it's him.

Joshua sits there, oblivious to his surroundings, eyes on his phone. Your heart races. What is he doing here? Did he notice you?

You swallow, trying to calm your beating heart. Why do I feel like this? Maybe he didn't even notice me, I'll just finish this drink and leave.

You take another tentative glance at him, who is still busy on his phone. His hair looks a little bit messier than usual and his face looks a bit tired. He has his jacket draped across his lap and the white tee shirt he's wearing gives you a nice view of his arms. You don't realize you are staring unabashedly until he speaks, "Penny for your thoughts?"

A squeak leaves you and you almost fall off the stool.

"You've staring for quite a while. What is on your mind?" he says, putting down his phone and turning towards you.

You let your head hang low as a wave of embarrassment washes over you. "I'm sorry," you whisper.

"No don't be. Funny meeting you here though."

You look up to meet his eyes and it feels like your heart has traveled to your throat as you try to come up with a reply. "Y-yeah."

"You don't seem to be enjoying yourself."

"I-... Yes, I'm not."

He chuckles softly and reaches for his drink as the bartender places it front of him.

"What brings you here?"

"Well, um, my friend wanted to introduce me to some guys so she dragged me here with her and none of the guys piqued my interest and I didn't like sitting with them so I'm here."

You really need to stop talking.

Another soft chuckle escapes him and he asks, "What kind of guys pique your interest then?"

You. You do.

"I... I'm not really thinking about dating right now, I'll graduate next month and I want to focus on finishing college and getting a good job."

"I see. What is your major?" he asks.

And that leads to a rather long conversation between you and him,which you obviously didn't mind, about your major -literature- and what inspired you to study that and so on. Since the both of you studied the same subject you had a lot of common grounds to talk about.The conversation went on and you felt happier than ever. You really needed to thank your friend for dragging you here.

And just when you think that, you hear her voice, "Y/n!"

Oh shit.

She appears behind you, a drunk mess and rests her head on your shoulder garbling drunk nonsense. You realized it was time to go before she embarrassed both of you in front of Joshua. You stand up abruptly and give an awkward nod to Joshua to looks at the two of you with an amused expression.

As you drag your friends to their car, there's a tinge of disappointment that you couldn't be with him longer but also an excitement that fate had given you such a chance.

✧

Couple days later Joshua arrives earlier than his usual time at the cafe. You were clearing orders for the first few customers and when you look up hearing his voice, you swear you can die right there happily.

He wasn't in his usual look, rather a black shirt and a black shiny blazer hanging on his arm that matches his pants. His hair was neatly back brushed to one side but some locks managed to escape and you smell a hint of his cologne. You stared at him shamelessly, cheeks flushed.

"Y/n. Y/n?"

"Y-yes?"

"My usual, please."

"Oh, yes... of course."

You fumble, putting in his order and peeking glances at his direction. You knew you were acting like a deprived, shameless woman but you could care less. You don't know if he realized you were checking him out but even if he did, he didn't say anything.

As you hand him his order, he murmurs a thank you and asks, "When do you close?"

"Huh?"

"This cafe. When do you close it?"

"Oh, um, we take customers until about 10 pm. Then we clean up."

"I see. Thank you."

He turns around and leaves, a few heads turning towards him as he does so. You stand there, confused as to why he'd ask that.

"That was a goddamn piece of snack right there. " your co worker chirps as Joshua leaves the cafe.

"Seriously?" You raise a brow at her.

"It's fucking true. I mean look at him. He has heads turning around as he walks by."

You couldn't argue with that.

✧

It's almost 10:30 in the night and you are having quite a trouble cleaning up. It's the weekend night and there were more customers than usual, which was the thing you hated about working full-time during the weekends though the payment was good. You wipe the counter, sighing, your back muscles tired from a long day.

The bell at the door rings, slightly irritating you.

Service is over damn it.

The last person you expect, walks through the door. Your mouth hangs open and a small gasp leaves your co worker's mouth as you both stare at the person. It's Joshua.

"I'm sorry, sir, we're closed." You manage the words out.

"Could I maybe, have a word with you?" He asks, ignoring what you said.

"Uh-um, sure. I- I just have some things to finish up." You stammer, your heart beating way too fast to your liking.

"Good. You don't mind if I sit, do you?"

"N-no, of course not."

You turn to face your co worker who stares at you with wide eyes.

"What the fuck is going on?" She whisper-yells.

"I have no idea!" You reply back.

You finish your work quickly, your heart hammering the whole time. Once you both are finished, your co worker starts to dress up, ready for home. She gives you a good lecture to lock up properly before taking off.

You stand behind the counter trying to even out your breathes, eyeing Joshua who sits at the table by the window.

You swallow and free your hair from the ponytail, smooth it down and walk over to him.

"H-hey."

"Oh, hey." He looks up at you gesturing you to sit. You take a seat in front of him on the couch. He doesn't say anything but looks at you with a subtle smile.

"You look different," you blurt out, indicating his look.

"Oh yes, I had a meeting at the university."

"On the weekend?"

"Apparently, yes."

"So, uhm, why are you here?" You fidget rubbing your hands together, feeling nervous.

"I wanted to see you." He replies casually.

You almost choke on air.

"Last time we didn't get to finish our conversation and you seemed like an interesting person."

You flush, almost not believing your own years.

Joshua runs his hand through his hair then rests his hand under his chin, looking directly at you.

"I'll be honest with you, you've been on my mind a lot lately, Y/n."

You stare at him, mouth hanging open.

Did he just really say that?

A soft sound comes from outside and you both turn your heads to see it has started to rain outside.

"I want to date you, Y/n."

Holy-

You gasp and a nervous laughter escapes you. "I, um, I- uh..." You don't know what you are trying to say.

He laughs softly, "I know you have a thing for me. Your stares aren't that secretive, you know."

You blush furiously, looking down at your lap, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's cute." He laughs.

You meet his eyes, trying to find out words to say.

"So what do you say?"

"I... mean, we barely know each other... "

"Isn't that why people date?"

"Yea, right."

"Am I making you uncomfortable?"

"No!" You gasp out, afraid that he'll leave. "I just, I don't know what to say."

Joshua offers you a kind smile and to your surprise he stands up and sits beside you. He softly strokes your hair, his eyes on yours.

"I mean it, I want to date you."

You stare at his eyes, transfixed. The sparkles in his eyes, the fact that he was so close to you made your brain fizzy and heart skip beats.

He softly leans down, his eyes on your lips, "May I?"

Oh my god.

You nod without a delay and he captures your lips in a kiss. He tilts your neck gently cupping behind your ear. Your hands find purchase on the lapels of his jacket as you let him kiss you.

When you pull back, you feel like you are burning from embarrassment. The night is silent other than the sound of rain outside and you are scared that he can hear your heart beat.

"Did I convince you?" He asks tilting your head upwards.

"Yes." You whisper, feeling your insides warm up.

And without thinking much, you grasp his jacket and pull him in for another kiss. You can feel him smile against your lips and it only urges you to go on.

As the night proceeds you rest your head on his shoulder, intertwine your hands with his and watch the rain outside. You felt slightly overwhelmed with joy as you talked with Joshua about anything, your heart skipping beats every now and then. Maybe this is what it felt like to be in love.

You look at his face taking in the details as he softly talks about his favourite novels and such. You only hope you can look at his face and feel his warmth in the coming days.

A/N: Hello everyone, this is my first tumblr fiction so I'm sorry if it wasn't so good. I hope you continue to support my blog. Your comments are really appreciated! >< 💕

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courtlyharlequin · 4 years

Note

Hello, may I order some rose tea with riddle please~ thank you very much! ♡♡♡

My Rose-Colored Boy

A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this! There’s also a song by the same name of the title (you should listen to it), but it actually isn’t the inspiration for this fic. The actual inspiration is a song called Green Tea and Honey by Dane Amar. You can listen to it here.

Coffee shop-hopping— unhealthy pastime of yours. You didn’t even like coffee. You label yourself as a tea person yourself. Yet there is a certain atmosphere in a coffee shop that no teahouse could never replicate. While you are not so keen on the bitter aftertaste of coffee, its scent stirs up a foreign sense of solace in your mind. A day’s stress melts away after you waft in the aroma of freshly ground beans. It clears away the murky gray clouds that clog the back of your head. For that reason alone, for that feeling that you cannot get enough of, you visit a plethora of cafes a day if you have time on your hands.

You could easily name your personal favorites but you would never come back to them on a daily basis. You would usually come back at two day intervals. Yes, they were your personal favorites, but you prefer hunting for new cafes, expanding your already extensive list of places to escape from reality– or at least your responsibilities.

Keyword: usually.

For the past few weeks, you find yourself coming to the same cafe every day, on a daily basis. And today, you find yourself at the same cafe once more. This is the second time you’ve set foot into the coffeehouse. Or should you say greenhouse? Café Rosé. A coffee shop with many rose themed beverages. The interior is heavily adorned with faux flowers. The windows were tinted with a rosy pink. The shop smelled more like roses than actual coffee. It’s.. out-putting, but it also induces yet another foreign feeling of comfort within you. Quite frankly, you favor the scent of roses and coffee nowadays rather than the scent of coffee by itself.

But.. that wasn’t the only reason.

The barista greets you as the door hits the chime, cuing your entrance: “Ah! Welcome back, (y/n).”

“Hello again, Riddle,” you curtly reply.

“What can I get for you today?” he asks, making his way to the register.

“Surprise me. I already had my usual earlier today. I would like to… try something new…”

“Alright then. I’ll be ready with your order shortly. Would you like to–”

“Card, Riddle,” you beam, handing the thin plastic over to him.

He took it sheepishly, flustered by your assertive gesture. Every day for the past few weeks had been routine. He knows your usual, your preferences, how you like your tea brewed– the little things that he managed to pick up from your brief interactions. One wouldn’t call him perceptive or observant, but he sees himself as one who is able to connect the dots and see patterns if they are frequently recurring.Of course, Riddle knows that you always pay through card, but he honestly could not break way from his mental script that he practices daily with every customer.

You watch him fiddle with his fingers as the receipt prints.

“Thank you for your purchase,” he says.

You nod as you take the piece of paper, opting to sit at the table with barstools facing the counter rather than your usual nook by the window.

There is something really off about today. Today’s events move fluidly yet ever so slowly. It’s as if the universe let you finally catch your breath. Refreshing, but with this much time on your hands, your extensive list of cafe getaways could not keep up.

Your mind wandered over to a certain redhead barista. Ah.. perhaps he is the only thing particularly “normal” and “hustling” today. He wears the same expression whenever he brews a beverage– furrowed eyebrows and a slight lip bite. He seems out of place, like the kitchen is not a place where he would belong because he has never been in one.

With a clink of a teacup and silverware, Riddle makes his way towards you, firmly gripping the tray to the point where his knuckles are white. His smile seems a bit forced, but not because of irritation. It is because he is still flustered. He has developed a slight attachment to you– a miniscule infatuation that enhances his ability to notice every little thing about you which began with your very first order– the Rosé Latte. You didn’t even like coffee. He watches you from the counter as you gag, rushing to your side. He remembers it ever so clearly:

“Hey… are you alright?” he asks.

“Oh yeah. Don’t worry about it. I’m just not a coffee person is all,” you sigh.

“Then… why did you order a latte with coffee? I could have subbed it out with tea..” Riddle let the latter half trail off into thin air.

“Hmm… I wanted to see if I could find a lover here. If you had changed something, it probably wouldn’t have worked,” you admit.

“Did it really work?”

You jokingly scan the room: “I don’t think so.”

“Hold on for just one moment.”

“Hmm?”

A few minutes later, the redhead returns to your table with another cup in hand.

“Here. One Rosé Latte– the coffee subbed out for tea.”

“Oh you didn’t have to! I’ll just get it nex–”

“It’s on the house,” he huffed, extending his arm further so the beverage would be in such a close proximity that you could not possibly deny it.

“Alright, then. Thank you… ahhhh…”

“Riddle.”

“Thank you, Riddle.”

“My pleasure, (y/n).”

“Wait how did you know my name?”

“Your order? I-I’m not a stalker! I swear!”

“Pfttt. No worries.”

It has been a few weeks since that event has occurred. Riddle is still unsure as to why you opted for coffee since you detest the flavor.

Nearly every customer orders this drink. Riddle isn’t sure as to how the rumor spread, but it seems that the latte truly does make people fall in love. Even his colleagues have found their “soulmates” with a stroke of luck. Okay. He’s a tad envious of them whenever their beloved darlings waltz into the shop with heart eyes, going on and on about the serendipitous encounter. Their interactions cause his feelings of loneliness to swell. Okay, so maybe he is profoundly envious of his coworkers– more than he’s willing to admit, that is. But… perhaps there is some hope in you. Even you aren’t his soulmate or if these unknown feelings are unrequited, he’s content with your daily visit. Seeing you every day is a gift in itself. Seeing you twice today, and right before closing, must be a blessing.

“Your order, (y/n),” he prompts, setting down the tray and handing you the ceramic cup.

You perk up from your haze, taking in the floral scent of the herbal tea waft into your nose as you sigh.

“This is–”

“Rose tea with honey.”

You stare at him for a bit. Rose tea is your usual. The only difference is the addition of a sweetener. He truly did surprise you. Riddle is, and will always be, a by-the-book person. He cannot break away from “routine”. He stares back at you with an eager expression, determined to hear your response.

You take the cup, “Thank you, Riddle.”

“My pleasure,” he beams.

That smile-!! It melts your heart. As much as you hate to admit it, you find yourself coming back here routinely for this rose colored boy and his radiant smile. He is a person of very few words when handling customers. He’s actually full of them when it’s just you and him early in the morning. Now, Riddle is absolutely terrible at small talk, but he could talk about tarts and roses for an eternity. Conversations with him feel whole, complete... as if they are meant to be. Ahhhh, you did not like the sound of that– routine. However, you did take a liking to Riddle, the rather nitpicky yet timid barista who lives everyday of his life by a routine.

Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt…

You take another sip of the tea then set the cup down, turning to Riddle who is still standing beside you, fidgeting with the tray.

“Say, Riddle, are you free this weekend?”

“I- Wha- I mean- Yes?”

“Would you like to go cafe-hopping with me?”

“Cafe-hopping?”

“It’s like going to several coffee shops consecutively in one day.”

“I would love to, (y/n),” he says softly.

Bonus:

“Is he aware that that person is his soulmate?” a boy with auburn hair asks huskily, adjusting himself so that his eyes met the bare surface of the cashier’s counter.

“Oi, Ace, stop being so rude. Riddle isn’t that dense! I’m sure they’re both aware!” a hushed whisper replies, shoving him aside so that he could also spy on his coworker.

“But look at him! He’s so nervous, stumbling over his words.. I’m getting secondhand chills… don’t you feel it too, Deuce?”

“Yeah, but he sat down with his soulmate and they look like they’re getting along well!”

“That’s because they’ve got heart eyes and saliva dripping out of their mouth from drooling over each other.”

“Well, I think that-”

Bonk!

“Shhhh! Ace, Deuce! He might hear you. You won’t be able to see tomorrow if he finds out that you’re eavesdropping,” another slightly older with auburn hair scolds nonchalantly as he kneels next to them.

“But did you really have to karate chop our heads, Cater?!” Ace hisses.

“Sorry, sorry,” he giggles.

“Cater, you were supposed to get them to go back to work,” yet another voice sighs.

“Ah, sorry, Trey! It was just so interesting. I couldn’t resist. Oh-! I have to get to a picture as a keepsake for Riddle.”

Before Trey could say: “Wait no-!”

Cater whips out his smartphone, snapping a picture.

“Hashtag: soulmates. Hashtag: Rosé-Café . Hashtag: Rosé-Latte. Hashtag: Go-get-’em-Riddle anddd posted!” he grins.

Trey shakes his head, crouching down to join his fellow baristas.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland imagines #twst imagines #twisted wonderland oneshot #twst oneshot #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #event fic #cafe rose event #fave

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pikapeppa · 4 years

Text

Professor Solas/Lavellan: First Impressions

Chap 1 of Inadvisable (professor Solas AU) is posted! In which Nare Lavellan has a chance run-in, literally.

Beautiful art by Nare’s creator, @elbenherzart!

~2400 words; read on AO3 instead.

- NARE -

Nare swept her hair into a tidy ponytail, then gave her face one last critical look before stepping out of her bedroom. She tapped lightly on the closed bedroom door across from her own. “Tamaris?” she called. “Are you–”

“I’m coming,” Tamaris grunted. “Give me two fucking minutes.”

Nare smirked at Tamaris’s customary early-morning surliness, then padded quietly down the hall to the living room. Athera was waiting pertly on the couch with a half-finished cup of tea in her hands, and she grinned at Nare as she approached.

“She’s awake, at least?” Athera asked.

“Awake enough,” Nare said drolly. She sat next to Athera and tucked her legs up on the couch. “Are you nervous about your first day?”

Athera laughed. “Me? Nervous? Of course not! Just a normal first day doing this job for the first time in the only Ancient Elvhen Studies program in the entire country. What’s to be nervous about?”

Nare sympathetically eyed her friend’s bright smile. She didn’t blame Athera for being nervous. Athera had been looking for a research coordinator position for years. Her new job at the University of Orlais was well-earned, in Nare’s opinion, and it was just a stroke of happy fortune that Athera was starting her job at the same time that Nare was starting her Master’s of fine arts with U of O’s prestigious — and infamous — Ancient Elvhen Studies program.

It was also serendipitous that Tamaris had decided she wanted a change of pace and place, resulting in the three girls splitting the rent on a cozy three-bedroom-plus-studio apartment close to the university.

“Don’t be nervous,” Nare said warmly. “It’s going to be great! By the end of the week, the director will be wondering how they lived without you making the whole lab twice as efficient.”

Athera grimaced and ran a hand through her hair long chestnut hair. “I don’t know. Professor Abelas did not sound that impressed with my lack of experience during the phone interview. I’m still surprised I got the job.”

“He probably thinks he can train you up fresh since you’re so-called ‘inexperienced’,” Nare said knowingly. “He’ll see how good you are in two seconds. I’m sure of it.”

Athera smiled at her. “Aw, you’re sweet. I bet you’re going to impress your new supervisor just as much when you meet with him tomorrow.”

“I hope so,” Nare said. But her belly jolted at the mention of Solas.

Professor Solas, she reminded herself. Just because she had a crush on her new supervisor’s voice didn’t mean she could start thinking of him in an informal way before they’d even met.

Oh, but he had such a gorgeous voice. The majority of her communication with Professor Solas had been via email, but the one time they’d spoken on the phone… Fenedhis, Nare couldn’t get it out of her mind. His voice was smooth and mild like a hot vanilla latte, with a curl of an Elvhen accent that made something shiver in her belly in a very visceral way. She was still surprised that she’d managed to keep her calm and sound like a reasonable and intelligent person after hearing Professor Solas’s first few words floating into her ear through the phone.

And that was just from hearing him talk about the Elvhen art stream of the program and the opportunities for exhibiting her work in the galleries in Val Royeaux. Imagine if he ever spoke to her in that beautiful smooth voice about other, less professional things…

Stop it, she scolded herself silently. She was being so stupid and horny, developing a crush on a man purely for his voice. Well, not just his voice: he was incredibly intelligent and knowledgeable, and strong-willed to the point of stubborn as well, if his academic position papers were anything to go by. But if Nare was being honest, his intelligence wasn’t the main thing that had been keeping her up at night for the past couple of months since she and Solas had last spoken on the phone.

It was stupid to be thinking such carnal things about his voice, though. She didn’t even know what he looked like — not for a lack of trying to find out, if she was perfectly honest. She’d searched online for a photo of her soon-to-be supervisor, but he didn’t have a faculty photo anywhere on the U of O website, and a Google search had been shockingly unhelpful, leaving Nare with only a blank slate to imagine along with that knicker-melting voice.

“Nare, you okay?” Athera said.

Nare jolted slightly, then smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. Just thinking.”

Athera gave her a shrewd look. “Something tells me I’m not the only one who’s nervous.”

“I thought you weren’t nervous,” Nare teased.

Athera grinned, but Tamaris’s grumpy voice interrupted before Athera could reply. “You guys have nothing to be nervous about. You’re going to impress the shit out of everyone. Now let’s go get some coffee already.” She wandered over to the door and started jamming her feet into her scuffed black motorcycle boots.

Nare exchanged a smirk with Athera, then popped up from the couch. “Good morning, lethallan,” she crooned.

Athera giggled and hugged Tamaris’s arm. “Good morning,” she sing-songed.

Tamaris groaned. “Fuck off, both of you. I’m only awake this early because I have a client in an hour.”

“Wait, is it already nine?” Athera said in alarm. She checked her watch, then squeaked. “Oh shoot! Oh shoot, I’m supposed to meet Abelas at the office in fifteen minutes!” She shoved her feet onto a pair of flats and grabbed her bag, then flung open the door. “Bye! Have a good one!” she yelled, and she bolted down the stairs.

Nare smiled at Tamaris. “Looks like it’s just you and me.”

“Lucky you,” Tamaris drawled. “You get to suffer my morning-gremlin attitude all alone.”

Nare chuckled, and they made their way down the stairs at a more measured pace and wandered toward their favourite café at the end of the block.

It was a perfect crisp early-September day. The sun was a lovely warm wash of light, and the air was fresh and cool without being cold. The leaves hadn’t started changing colours yet, but the quality of their verdancy was starting to shift from the lush springlike undertones of blue to the more autumn-like undertones of yellow. When Nare pointed this out to Tamaris, Tamaris huffed in amusement.

“That’s such an artist-y thing to say,” she said.

Nare gave her a chiding look. “You say that like you aren’t an artist yourself.” She pointedly eyed the delicate vallaslin that curled around Tamaris’s left eye — vallaslin that Tamaris had carefully tapped into her own skin, and the same skills which had imbued Nare and Athera with their vallaslin as well.

“I don’t often work with colour, though,” Tamaris said.

“Isn’t your client this morning for a coloured tattoo?”

“Yeah, but that’s different than painting,” Tamaris pointed out.

“Your tattoo work is amazing, though,” Nare said.

Tamaris smirked. “Fine. We’re both amazing artists with mind-blowing skills. Are you going to buy my coffee for me because I’m so awesome?”

“I’m the student here,” Nare said with a grin. “You should be buying me coffee.”

Tamaris tsked. “Fine. Just this once though, you leech.” She pulled open the café door and gestured sarcastically for Nare to enter before her.

Nare chuckled and slid into the café. They placed their orders together, then sat at a sunny table to enjoy their coffee and fresh scones — vegan blueberry for Nare, and lemon-glazed for Tamaris.

Nare took the lid off of her cup and blew on her coffee. “So you’re coming to the start-of-year mixer tonight, right?”

Tamaris slumped in her seat and shoved a hand through her lush midnight curls. “Explain again why you want me to come to this mixer thing. I’m not a student.”

“It doesn’t matter that you’re not a student,” Nare said. In truth, she just wanted to get Tamaris out of the apartment before she started forming roots.

“It kind of does,” Tamaris said flatly. “It’s happening at the campus bar.”

“Lots of non-students go to the campus bar,” Nare pointed out. “It’s a nice bar.”

Tamaris grunted. Nare leaned toward her slightly. “Come on, Tam,” she wheedled. “Come to the mixer. Athera’s coming.”

“She works at the university now,” Tamaris pointed out. “It makes sense for her to go.”

Nare wilted. “What else are you going to do if you stay home?”

Tamaris’s reply was prompt. “I’ll rewatch The Archdemon Rises 3 for the fifth time and paint my nails.”

Nare declined to mention that Tamaris’s eggplant-purple manicure was still intact since she’d last done her nails two days ago. Instead, she widened her eyes pleadingly. “Please come? We’ll make a girls’ night of it. It’ll be fun, I promise.”

Tamaris eyed her stonily for a moment, then sighed. “Ugh, you and your baby blues. Fine, I’ll come.”

Nare beamed at her and took a bite of her scone. A leisurely half-hour later, they stepped out of the café.

Tamaris stretched her arms over her head. “All right, I’m headed home,” she said with a yawn. “You sure you don’t want to wait until tomorrow so we can go to that museum exhibit together?”

Nare shook her head. “I want to see it before my meeting with my supervisor tomorrow.”

Tamaris smirked. “Hoping to impress him with your up-to-date knowledge of the local art scene, huh?”

Nare poked her playfully. “Yes, okay? I want to make a good first impression.”

“You’ll be fine,” Tamaris said. “You always make a good first impression.”

Tamaris’s tone was dry, and Nare gazed fondly at her seemingly standoffish friend. “Thanks,” she said sincerely. “I’ll see you later.”

Tamaris nodded and headed back to the apartment, and Nare turned in the opposite direction toward the modern art museum. She pulled her phone out of her purse and tapped open her browser to check the price of tickets for the special neo-Avvar exhibit; she was fairly sure she’d get a discounted admission with her student ID, but some of the museum’s special exhibits were even free for students, and Nare couldn’t remember if—

She suddenly slammed right into someone.

She stumbled back, then squeaked in alarm as she tripped over an uneven crack in the sidewalk. Her phone dropped from her fingers, and she grabbed for it even as she tried to find her footing, oh no oh shit she was going to fall down–

A strong pair of hands grabbed her arms, and Nare gasped as she regained her balance. “Shit,” she blurted. “I’m so sorry, I – my phone, I was distracted…”

“The fault is mine. I apologize.”

A heated ripple of recognition spilled down her spine. That voice. She knew that voice. She’d been replaying that voice in her head for months and wondering what the person who owned that voice looked like: how tall he was, how big his hands were, what his lips looked like shaped around the liquids vowels of that divine Arlathani accent…

Lightheaded with disbelief, her heart in her throat, Nare lifted her eyes to his face.

Her breath left her in a punch of shock. Gorgeous. He was gorgeous. An impeccably shaven head, a mere hint of crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes which put him somewhere in his late 30s or early 40s, lush lips with a perfect cupid’s bow, a delicate divot in his chin and a jawline sharp enough to cut, and his eyes…

His eyes were perfectly lucid, a perfect quixotic blend of light grey and pale blue that Nare couldn’t quite name, and they were so warm. His eyebrows were creased with a hint of concern, and when the crease in his brow deepened, she realized that she was staring.

“Are you all right?” Professor Solas said.

She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Which was a good thing, because the only words Nare could think were you are fucking hot.

She nodded dumbly. A tiny hint of a smile curled the left corner of his lips, and he released her arms. “I apologize for the collision,” he said, and he crouched down to pick up his book and her phone. “I should know better than to read and walk at the same time.”

Nare watched stupidly as he rose to his full height. Fenedhis, he was tall.

He held out her phone, and Nare carefully studied his face. There was no recognition there. There was warmth in his handsome face, but no recognition. He didn’t know who she was.

Not that she would necessarily expect him to, since he was a professional and an intellectual, and professional intellectuals probably didn’t online-stalk their new grad students to find out what they looked like.

She took her phone with trembling fingers and swallowed hard. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“You’re welcome,” he said. “You are not hurt, I hope?”

Ugh, he was so good-looking. Why did her supervisor have to be her exact ideal physical type?

She dropped his gaze and tucked a stray strand of hair over her ear. “I — no. I’m fine,” she said in a tiny voice.

“Good,” he said. “And again, I apologize for the collision.”

She shrugged and tried to nod at the same time, then wanted to smack herself for being so fucking awkward.

“Take care,” he said. A moment later, he was walking away from her.

She finally dragged in a breath and watched greedily as Professor Solas walked away. For someone who had such a mild voice and such kind eyes, his gait was certainly confident.

Confident and sexy.

Nare blew out a breath and forced herself to turn away. She was shaking. Why was she shaking? Why was her heart beating so hard, not just in her chest but in her entire body?

Why was her mind completely taken over by the thought of Professor Solas stretching her naked body out on a desk, those warm grey-blue eyes scanning her from head to toe before he taught her all kinds of torrid lessons that she would never forget?

Fuck, she thought desperately. I am in so much trouble.

#solas #solavellan #solas fic #professor solas #professor solas au #pikapeppa writes #elbenherzart

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sophielovesbarnes · 4 years

Text

All or nothing, chapter two.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Winchester!reader

Warnings: Fluff, pregnancy and cursing.

Author note: Alright, here we are, hot out of the oven! Sorry if it took long, I got stuck on a scene but I finally broke the writer’s block and was able to finish this chapter, we will get to see a bit more of SPN on this chapter.

I hope you enjoy it, please let me know what do you think, dm me if you want to be tagged and remember requests are open.

Chapter one

Masterlist

Chapter two

“Come on ladies! They are not called suicide running drills for nothing!” Your coach screams, you are beyond exhausted, your legs feel like they will give in, in any second now, you are covered in sweat from head to toe and your lungs feel like they are on fire. With the National competition getting closer every day your coach gets more demanding and the training sessions become more intense.

“So.” You manage to get out. “I don’t know if calling him is too straight forward.”

“Well.” Ingrid answers with her chest heaving. “It’s not like you have cared about that before.”

“Winchester! Fritz! If you are able to speak then you are not doing it right!”

Ingrid smiles at you and then you both get back to running, an hour; that feels like an eternity later, you are under the shower letting the water wash away your exhaustion, you still have two classes left and you need to mentally prepare yourself for them.

When you are changing into a pink dress Ingrid returns to the topic.

“So what are you going to do?” She asks while brushing her hair. “Are you gonna call the hot FBI agent?”

“I think I will.” You tie your hair up and close your locker. “There’s something really special about him, I just can’t put my finger in what.”

“Aww little Y/N has a crush.”

“Shut it Ingrid, at least I’m doing something about mine.” You say teasingly.

“Hey I’m your base, you don’t wanna bother me.” You both look at each other with serious looks in your face and then burst into laughter. “No but seriously, tell me how it goes.”

“Will do, bye babes.” You kiss her cheek and then leave the locker room.

During class you are barely able to pay attention, when your psychodynamic teacher is talking about the five stages of psychosexual development and the fixations in the oral stage your mind is traveling far away, focused on soft brunet locks and shy smiles.

After school you go back to your apartment, you order chinese for dinner and when the food comes and you are so distracted you are almost sure you gave the delivery guy a 50 dollar bill and told him to keep the change, you eat absentmindedly and then head to your bathroom toying with your phone, after taking a bath you are on your bed, dressed with clean pajamas and your hair wrapped up with a towel, then you finally gather enough courage to make the call.

The phone rings three times before he answers.

“Hello?” Your heart flutters at the sound of his voice.

“Doctor Reid?”

“Who is this?” He asks, you can hear the nervousness in his voice.

“It’s Y/N Winchester.” You answer calmly .”You gave me your card at the FBI lecture at Louisville.”

“Right, how- how may I help you?” He replies.

“I have a lot of questions, and you told me to call if I had them.” You take a deep breath and then say with a wide smile on your face. “But I thought it would be unfair to just ask without giving something in return, so what do you say about me buying you coffee tomorrow? If you’re still in town.”

Silence.

You mentally slap yourself for being too straightforward, what made you think that he wants to go out with you? He most likely has a girlfriend and here you are throwing yourself to him? God, you are so stupid.

“I-I yeah, that would be…” You listen to him taking a deep breath and then he continues. “That would be nice.”

“Great! We should go to Quills, they make this mean peach- lavender lattes.”

“Sounds good.”

“Does four o’clock work for you?”

“Yeah, that’s okay.”

“Hey pretty boy, who are you talking to?” Says a voice on the back, then the call ends.

You are smiling so hard your cheeks hurt, you have a date; well, meeting with doctor Reid, and you can barely hold your emotion. What are you gonna wear? What are you gonna say? Maybe this was a rash idea.

The ring of your phone snaps your mind out of it, when you pick up you see your brother’s face and on the back you hear the sound of vomiting.

“I’m guessing Jo hasn’t passed the throwing up all the time fase.”

“At this point I am pretty sure she kind of hates me.” Says your Adam.

“I don’t kind of hate you Adam, I hate you, hate you.” You hear Jo say, then the sound of vomiting returns.

Jo’s pregnancy had caught everyone off guard, she and Adam were always fighting or calling each other names, but then at the New Year’s Eve party Ellen threw on the Roadhouse they both had too much to drink and the next thing you knew was that you were going to have another nephew or niece in nine months, there was a lot of crying and at some point Ellen threatened to cut your brother’s balls off, now she was just happy with the idea of having a grandchild.

After the initial shock you were happy as well, this wasn’t your first nephew/niece though, Sam and Jessica had two beautiful daughters you adored, Dean had Ben; who was only a couple years younger than you, which was weird; and with Castiel, Dean had applied to be a foster parent, they now had a little boy; Leo, and were hoping to get another child.

You had such a beautiful family and were so grateful for it.

“How are you baby sis?” Adam asks, ignoring Jo’s comment.

“I’m good, very tired, our coach is killing us, and I have a duckton of homework, but in general things are going great, what about you, how are things going on Kansas?”

“Things are good, the workshop is getting a lot of cars, Sam, Jess and the girls visit us every now and then, and Dean and Cas are all about Leo.”

“That’s gonna be you in a couple months you know? Have you thought of any names?”

“Jo likes William or Genevieve, I like Magnolia or Jebediah, Jo doesn’t like them so we have reached an impasse.” You see Jo exiting the bathroom and standing next to your brother.

“Those are old people’s names, tell him Y/N.” Jo says. “Tell him they are horrible names and we are not naming my child like an old person.”

“Our child” He corrects, “And they are good names Joanna.”

“I hate to not be on your side bro, but Jo is right, they are horrible.” You say.

“Thank you Y/N at least one Winchester is using her brain.” Adam rolls his eyes and you laugh.

“They are good names!” Adam insists.

“No they are not.” You and Jo say at the same time, she was your best friend and somehow you were always in synchrony.

“Now if you can’t reach an agreement Y/N is always a good option, it has character, it’s pretty, and let's be honest, the world could use another Y/N Winchester.”

“We don’t need another traitor.” Adam answers with false hurt.

“Ugh, stop being such a drama queen Adam, you know what? Your baby wants an Oreo McFlurry.”

“Five minutes ago you were throwing up and now you want a McFlurry?”

“Yes, so better get on the road because they are going to close, don't do this for me Adam, do it for your baby.”

“So now it’s my baby?” They both start bickering and you swear they already act like a married couple, eventually Jo wins the discussion, because being honest there is no better argument than “I am carrying your baby” so Adam says his goodbyes and leaves grudgingly. You and Jo stay talking for hours, it’s almost 3 am when you hang up, and you fall asleep right after.

When you wake up you feel well rested and you feel like you slept for so long, the sun comes bright through the window and your whole body feels relaxed, which is weird because you went to sleep really late last night, which gets you thinking that you never heard your alarm.

Wait.

You take your phone and press the side button, but the screen doesn’t turn on.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” You didn’t charge your phone, so the battery is dead which means that you are probably very late, you look up at the watch that’s on the wall, which indicates that it is already 12:15 in the morning, you are definitely very late.

You jump out of the bed and run to the bathroom, no time for showering, you brush your teeth and get dressed with a pair of jeans, plain white t-shirt and sneakers, you tie your hair on a high ponytail, take your bag and run to the kitchen, you grab a banana and a bottle of water and run out of your house.

You race on the road and make it to school on record time, at this time of the day it is barely impossible to find a parking space that is empty, when you manage to park it’s almost one, you mentally curse, get out of the car and run to the classroom, this promises to be a hell of a day.

*****

Spencer has never liked this kind of conferences, they bring him back to his college years, which are not something he likes to think about, he didn’t have the standar university experience, most of the time he was made fun of, being the target of stupid pranks or being just ignored by his classmates, so yeah, college wasn’t something he remembered fondly.

He was on edge until yesterday, when he saw you on the lecture; he had already seen you on the football field being thrown into the air and then landing perfectly with a magazine worthy smile, of course he thought you were pretty, because you were one of the prettiest girls he had ever landed eyes on, but you were also most likely the type of girl that only cared about vain things and would have never noticed him if you had been one of his classmates; he was proved wrong during the lecture.

You weren’t only pretty, you were also smart, probably the smartest girl in that classroom, you were informed and you clearly cared about the topic, and when the lecture ended you went to him, when all the girls went with Morgan or Rossi, you decided to go with him; he was in such a rush he even had the bravery to give you his card.

And then the impossible happened, you called him, and not only that, you asked him out and he hasn’t felt this nervous in ages.

“Reid, Reid.” Morgan’s voice brings him back to the room, he and Rossi are looking at him with worry. “Everything alright pretty boy? You have been acting weirder than usual since yesterday.”

“I am fine.” He answers almost automatically.

“Are you sure?” Rossi asks with an eyebrow raised. “We are worried about you kid.”

“Yeah.” He says. “Colleges just bring me to the edge.”

“Well, don’t worry about it pretty boy, we are just going to be here three more days and we are back to Quantico.”

“I know.”

*****

The whole day you feel like you are running, you are late for class which gets you a reprimand from your teacher, which gets you late to your next class, which ends up getting you late to cheerleading practice. Your coach is so mad she has you running suicides and practicing toe touches until your legs feel like jello.

“Point your toes Winchester! And smile, you have to sell it!” She screams at you, everytime you jump you feel your muscles pull and your empty stomach hurls, you are almost sure that if you keep jumping you might throw up.

When your coach finally lets you go it’s already 4:20, you mentally do the math, if you go to the locker rooms and shower you will be in the coffee shop at almost five o’clock, and agent Reid is probably already waiting for you, so you just grab your bag and run to your car mentally cursing yourself for not charging your phone.

****

Spencer manages to escape Morgan and Rossi, avoiding their questions and he makes it to the coffee shop you indicated by 3:45, minutes go by tortuously, he sees people coming in and out from the coffee with cups on their hands, he sees people laughing and students dragging their feet, the exhaustion of exams and projects reflecting clearly on them, he gets a lot of looks and he starts to grow desperate, he calls you over and over but the calls go straight to voicemail.

By 4:30 he decides you stood him up, this was most likely a prank, how did he not notice? He was a grown ass man, an FBI agent, he was a profiler and still he fell for it. He feels terrible, how could he believe such a beautiful woman would ask him out and actually show up? He takes his bag and gets up from the chair, when he is leaving he sees a car parking and a y/h/c haired girl wearing a Cardinals hoodie and grey yoga pants getting down and running to the coffee shop.

It was you, you didn’t stand him up, you were actually there, he can barely hold his emotion.

“Doctor Reid.” You say, your forehead is covered in sweat and your chest is going up and down rapidly. “I am so, so, so, sorry, did I make you wait too long? I’m sorry, my phone died, and my alarm never went off, and I’ve been late everywhere, and my practice lasted too long, and i didn’t have your card so I couldn’t call you from another phone, and I came here right out of my training, so I must smell like a monster and I am so sorry.”

“It’s okay, I didn’t wait for long.” He lies, and you smile at him, and he can swear it is the most beautiful smile he has ever seen. “Should we order?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You lead the way and stop at the bar. “Hey Lindsey.”

The redhead barista smiles at you and then you look at him and he notices how your y/e/c sparkle with the white lights of the coffee shop.

“What do you want?” You ask.

“You said something about peach lattes?”

“Peach-lavender lattes, it sounds weird but they are great.” You reply, and by this point he’s sure he would believe if you said the moon was made of tofu.

“I’ll have one.”

“Great, two large peach-lavender lattes and a bagel please, can I also borrow your charger?” Lindsay marks your order on the cash register and tells you the total, when Spencer takes out his wallet you stop him. “No, I said I was buying.”

“No, I insist.”

“Doctor Reid, put your wallet down, I was terribly late and I said I was buying, you can pay the next time.” The fact that you imply that there might be a next time makes his heart flutter.

“Alright.” He agrees, when you get your orders you sit on the table he was waiting on and there’s a moment of awkward silence he is not sure how to break. “So, so you said you had questions?”

“Yes, I do.” You take a sip from your coffee and then look at him, he is expecting questions about the FBI, but that’s not where you go. “You have three PhDs, three BAs and you are only thirty-four, how is that even possible? Are you like a genius?”

“I, I don’t believe intelligence can be accurately quantified, but I do have an IQ of 187, eidetic memory and can read 20,000 words per minute.” You stare at him with your eyes wide open and a smile on your lips. “...yes, I’m a genius.”

“That’s… wow.” The conversation flows after that, he talks about some of the most interesting cases he has had, you intervene every now and then making questions or comments that always seem to go to the correct point, and he feels like he can speak freely with you.

“Well, the vast majority of unsubs with a similar MO aren’t driven by the killing, they are merely fascinated by the body parts, it’s like they psychologically exist in a realm where fantasy meets delusion, it’s basically like the blueprint to create the perfect serial killer… I’m rambling aren’t I?”

“It’s okay, it’s fascinating, please go on.” You are one of the only persons he has ever met that reacts that way, most of the time he gets interrupted, he is about to start again when your phone rings, you take a look at the screen and then say. “Sorry I have to take this, it will be just a sec.”

He smiles and nods and you slide to answer.

“What is the point of having an expensive phone if you never answer? Do you know how worried I was?”

“Hi Dean.” You reply, internally laughing at the overprotectiveness of your brother.

“Don’t “hi Dean” me, where have you been? Why haven’t you been answering your texts?”

“I’m in a coffee shop, and my phone died last night and I couldn’t charge it until now.”

“Who are you with?”

“I’m with a… friend.”

“Friend? Are you out with a boy? Who is he? Let me talk to him.”

“Stop being so jealous Dean.”

“So you are with a boy.”

“I’m sorry I have to go, love you, bye.” You say and you don’t even give him time to protest before you hang up. “Sorry about that.”

“No problem.” He must have guessed you wouldn’t be single, he feels jealousy invading him, and he fiddled with his empty cup. “Was that your boyfriend?”

“Gross, no.” There’s a wave of relief when you answer that, and he probably shouldn’t feel it, he’s leaving in a few days, it’s not like there’s the possibility of a relationship. “It was my brother, he can get all Mama Bear when he is worried.”

“Oh, is he your only brother?”

“No, I have three, Dean, Sam and Adam, I am the youngest, like by far, Dean is 19 years older, Sam is 15 years older and Adam beats me by 8 years.”

“That’s a big difference.”

“Yeah, Dean and Sam are my half-brothers, from dad’s first marriage, their mother died when they were very young and dad took it very hard and started to move them around the country, that’s how he met my mom, he went to Minnesota they had a one night stand and she got pregnant, but she didn’t tell him about Adam until he was like six, then he went back to Windom, they fell in love, dad moved them to Kansas, he married my mom and then they had me, hence the age gap.” You explain. “What about you? Any brothers or sisters?”

“No, I’m an only child, I grew up with Doctor Who and Star Trek as my companions.”

“Doctor Who?”

“Yeah, it’s, it’s good.”

“I know, I’m not gonna act like I didn’t mourn for a week when Ten left Rose on the beach.”

“You like it?”

“I may look like your stereotype cheerleader, but I’m a huge geek, Dean and his best friend Charlie made sure of that.”

The conversation flows as freely as water after that, for some reason you find it easy to talk to him, you tell him so many things you haven’t even told Jo, you talk about everything, favorite holidays; yours is Christmas, his is Halloween; tv shows, characters. You delite with his rambling and pay attention to every word he says, when you finally realize it, the sky has turned dark and you are the last people in the coffee shop.

“I think we should probably let them close.”

“Yeah, we should.” You both take your bags and stand up. “Hey, when are you leaving town?”

“On friday.”

“Let me make you dinner, I make a killer lasagna.” You look at him expecting an answer but he can barely say anything, he just had an amazing evening with a gorgeous girl who is now inviting him to her house, he should probably pinch himself to make sure he is not dreaming. “Spencer?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

“It’s a date then.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x winchester!reader #reid x reader #reid x you #Criminal Minds #criminal minds x reader #supernatural #supernatural x reader #supernatural x you #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #winchester x reader #winchester!sister #winchester!reader #all or nothing

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sunshinesholland · 4 years

Text

the one (and all the others) | t.h.

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Word count: 3.16k

Summary: Everyone in your life knows how much of a hopeless romantic you are. You’re constantly diving into things headfirst, and expecting a fairy tale ending. You tend to laugh off any remarks your friends make, take them in stride, as it’s kind of commonplace in your friend group to joke about your romantic escapades. But this time it feels different.

Warnings: swearing, angst/pining, mention of shitty past relationships, allusion to PTSD

A/N: Again, it’s kind of based on some personal stuff. Getting back into writing is easiest when its based on self experience for me. I have the rest of this mostly written out, so let me know if you like it!

part one || part two || part three

New York winter has brought with it snow, accompanied by a brisk wind that harasses anyone caught outside. Lucky for you, you’re inside and warm in the shelter of your favorite cafè with a good friend and hot coffee.

“He said he couldn’t stop thinking about me since first semester,” you gush, “he said whenever he sees the film I did my midterm on in class, he thinks about me.”

You’re practically swooning, your vanilla latte in one hand, and an earl grey tea in the other. Zendaya, reaches for the cinnamon among the array of wooden sticks and sweeteners as you continue your story.

“Yeah, I’m sure the guy has watched Love Jones so much the past four months,” she comments, smile on her face as she takes a taste-sip of her coffee. Satisfied, she begins walking with you to the usual table. It’s tucked in the corner with a view of both the wooden-framed windows and the small stage where a guitarist plays softly.

You continue speaking as though you didn’t hear her smart remark, “I mean he’s got an accent, and he’s really cute too, Z. I didn't even present the analysis that well, you know I had work and that huge paper for music theory class due,” you babble, and she just sips her coffee and listens.

The bell atop the cafe door chimes and the cold breeze from outside manages to reach you in the corner. Your eyes flicker up to Tom as he begins walking over, shaking the snow out of his hair, his curls slightly damp and his cheeks pink.

“What were you guys talking about?” He asks, shrugging off his jacket and sliding into the seat beside you.

He smiles at you as he grabs the tea you’ve ordered for him, a silent thank you despite the fact that you do it for him every time you arrive before him.

“I was just telling Daya about the guy from our film history class last semester,” you grin, “you remember him?”

How could he forget? You gushed over him then too, and the bastard was bold enough to make advances towards you during class discussions. Not to mention the times when he would stop the two of you on your way out of class to flirt, while Tom would have to wait for you and watch it all unfold.

You and Tom have known each other since day one of university, when you complimented him on the Spider-Man pin on his backpack. It was the pin his baby brother Paddy had given to him before Tom left to attend university in the states, and your complimenting of it instantly made him warm towards you. He’s been friends with you since he held the elevator for you, the same day you both realized you’re neighbors at the same apartment complex. He’s been your best friend since the day you stayed up all night with him after having only known him a month. He was stupid enough to put off writing an important paper for his literature class until last minute and you still stayed up with him all the same. You brewed coffee and kept him company, making him laugh all night long all while encouraging and motivating him.

And he didn’t realize at the time but he’s been in love with you since he called you at 11 PM, heartbroken, and despite the fact that you went to sleep hours ago and had work early the next morning, you didn’t let him wait past the second ring before answering. You were up and knocking at his door moments later, still in sleep shorts and a t-shirt, half awake. You met his bloodshot eyes and hugged him tightly, there to be whatever he needed at that moment. You let him ramble and cry into your shoulder while you stroked his hair. You watched over him while he drank to numb the pain, and you were there to rub his back the next morning for the aftermath. He knows he isn’t exactly special, you’d do this for anyone you care for and somehow it makes him love you more.

When he did realize his feelings, he didn’t make a move, as you were in a toxic on-again, off-again relationship, and you didn’t need anything else on top of what you were going through. The love from the way you valued him as your closest friend was enough for him. It’s possible he would have outgrown the crush, but after one night, everything changed. And the worst of it all is that the two of you don’t talk about it, or even acknowledge that it happened. But that’s how it always goes right? It’s good until it’s not.

Tom is pulled out of his thoughts and reminiscing when Zendaya asks, “When’s the date with prince charming then?”

“It’s this weekend,” you mumble, looking past her to avoid her eyes.

“This weekend? Y/N, you said you’d come to Laura’s party with us,” her tone is criticizing because she’s fine listening to your interactions turned romantic narratives, but abandoning plans you’ve already made with your friends is where she draws the line.

You avoid her eyes, looking down at your cup and then out the window at passersby on the street. You don’t want to be a bad friend, really, but it’s one night and you’ve been looking forward to the date since he asked you last week. And you really don’t like parties anyways. You don’t make a habit out of canceling plans, you truly try to be as reliable as possible, there whenever your friends need you. Your only fault is that finding love is almost as high on your list of priorities as your friends.

“I know but I’ll come to the next one. She’s always throwing parties and what difference does it make to miss one? I don’t even like parties either, I wouldn’t really be fun to have around anyways,” you try to reason your way out of the guilt.

“Yeah. Sure. Let's just talk about something else, okay?” She huffs, not wanting to argue and knowing you won’t cancel on prince charming.

“Okay… Tom when are you going to ask out Perrie from downstairs? I think the whole complex is getting second-hand embarrassment from the poor girl’s obvious and multiple advances,” you grin, because anything to do with romance is welcomed by you. It doesn’t just have to be your love life.

He already feels sick because while Perrie is a lovely girl, she’s not you and no one else is either. Answering the question why he won’t ask out the pretty, single, and clearly interested girl is something he barely admits to himself. But lucky for him Zendaya is who she is in that she always seems to know what to do. Though she’s never had it officially confirmed, she knows on some level about you two. She’s your roommate and the three of you are all close and in the same friend group, and honestly, how could anyone miss the way you look at each other? More often than not, she gets back from work and finds you two asleep on the couch, scrunched up together under one blanket. If she comes home, and you’re not in your room all she has to do is walk across the hall and you’ll likely be at Tom’s. But again, Zendaya is who she is, and so she allows you two to define what you have the way you want. But she sees the color drained from Tom’s face, and for his sake, she changes the subject.

“Or... we could talk about the fact that I got offered my first modeling job!” she exclaims, effectively taking the heat off of Tom.

Your supportive friend nature kicks into overdrive, Perrie from downstairs long forgotten, as you gush over how much your friend and roommate deserves this and so much more. Tom gives Zendaya a half-hearted smile, which she returns before chatting with you about the details.

—

“I really do think he could be the one,” you smile back in the mirror, while Tom searches through your display of Spider-Man comics.

You’ve been best friends for so long and you live across the hall so it’s only natural that Tom comes to keep you company when you get ready for your dates. No matter how often he's there, or what feelings he has, he wouldn’t ever turn down an opportunity to spend time with you.

He grabs your favorite issue, the front page worn as a result of how often you read it. You could cover them in slips and store them on a dusty shelf, preserving their value. But you’re a firm believer of loving what you have, not shielding it away to protect it, and maybe that applies to more than just comics. He drops onto your bed unceremoniously, looking up to meet your eyes in the mirror. You finish curling the last section of hair that frames your face, unplugging the iron afterwards.

“I don’t think you can really call him the one, if he’s the tenth you’ve called that so far this year,” he replies light and jokingly, despite the insensitive words he’s spoken. He’s the only one who’s never poked fun at your dating habits, but maybe it’s just the mention of the prince charming from film history.

Although he may be joking, he’s right. You glance down at your vanity, a mess of makeup and hair products showing just how much effort you’ve put in the last forty-five minutes. No matter how many first dates you go on you’re always saying things like this. Most everyone in your life makes remarks like this and usually you would let it slide and laugh or brush it off. But it’s Tom, who knows better than anyone the heartache you’ve experienced and how even though you refuse to admit it, it’s a coping mechanism. You’d like to think your past doesn’t define you and so you tell yourself you’re in love and hopeful, but the trust issues and self sabotaging comes shortly after. Tom should know that, having seen the relationship that was responsible for the cycle and the beginning, quick middle and eventual end of every relationship since.

So you’re immediately defensive at the fact that your best friend would make some comment like this. He lifts his head up at you, as you spin around to face him.

“And why can’t I?” You ask and Tom opens his mouth to reply but you’re continuing and challenge him further, “What’s so wrong with being a hopeless romantic, with feeling things deeply?” You question, not waiting for a response as you continue.

“There’s not one person in my life who hasn’t said shit like this to me! Out of all people I thought you would understand,” you raise your voice, hurt evident in your tone.

“You know how hard it was for me. I’m just doing my best to hold myself together, and I’m an adult, if this is how I decide to cope, I’m allowed to!” You’re shouting now, standing and pacing around your room in frustration.

“I’m just hoping there’s someone out there who is willing to love me kindly and fully, and I think I’m perfectly justified holding out for that,” your voice softens, your back is facing him, posture slumped as you huff, overwhelmed with emotion.

Your frustration is tangible in the air and Tom blinks, placing down the comic book before scooting to the edge of the bed towards you. You tend to laugh off remarks, take them in stride, and it’s kind of commonplace in your friend group to joke about your romantic escapades.

He feels unbelievably guilty, he never would’ve said something if he was aware you felt even one one-thousandth as upset as you’d just displayed. He had been there for the awful relationship that had you sick with heartache. He’d been the one Zendaya would come to when you’d refuse to leave your room for anything but classes, if even that. He just feels idiotic for not connecting the dots, he just thought you were strong for having such an open heart after everything. You’re always compassionate and supportive others and you’ve definitely helped him through his fair share of heartbreak, and wow he feels like a dick. Whether it’s orchestrated by heartache or not, he admires that you’re willing to keep trying despite everything. He only wishes he was brave enough to bare his like you always have.

“Hey,” Tom speaks softly, reaching for your hand and slowly turning you around to face him, “I’m sorry, Y/N, I never realized this is how you felt,” He mutters, tone gentle, coaxing you to turn to him.

Tears have managed to well up in your eyes and if he didn’t feel like a huge jerk before, he absolutely does now. But it’s really not about him, it’s about his best friend who he’s unintentionally made feel invalid in her feelings. You’ve never once asked him to justify how he’s feeling, or poked fun at him for his emotions. Well, except... maybe when he broke his pinky finger in a fit of anger, after having punched the face wall when his team lost the European championship (though you did apologize for it and you grabbed him ice right after).

“It’s, erm, it’s fine, it’s stupid anyways,” you mumble back, voice unsteady as you try to blot your tears away with your sleeve in an attempt to prevent your makeup smearing. You’re just overwhelmed and it all bubbled over. Tom has never said anything like that before and it was dramatic to blow up at him like that, you think.

“It’s not, N/N, and you know that. You’re crying and I know you hate crying and so I can tell you’re upset. Even if you don’t want to admit it, I’m still sorry,” He apologizes, rising to stand with your hand still in his. He pulls you into a hug, resting his cheek atop your head.

“Thanks,” you murmur into his shoulder. It’s not completely his fault, because you really hadn’t voiced any sort of animosity for the jokes made about it. You never really talk about how hurt you are by the past either, not anymore than in passing at least.

You just stand there for a minute, his hand stroking your hair absentmindedly, and he’s messing up your curls but it’s comforting because it’s Tom. Thinking to ask him to stop isn’t even on your mind.

He’s thought about it before, but now more than ever he just selfishly wishes he was there before your ex, to see you unguarded and truly hopeful. Not as a coping mechanism, not as an extreme reaction to hurt, but to love because it’s all you know. Because maybe then things would have played out differently for the two of you.

He’s lost in his thoughts, stroking your hair and his other hand rubbing your back, your ‘getting ready’ playlist ends. Somehow the algorithm has decided to play One by Ed Sheeran, soft, melodic and completely dissimilar from the upbeat tracks playing a moment ago. But Tom couldn’t be more grateful, because if he closes his eyes he can almost pretend you’re at the before, and he had the guts to ask you out on the first day of class. If that was true, when you’re in your room with him now. You’d be aware of how he feels about you, and you’d feel loved in that kind and gentle way you’ve been hoping for, because you’ve never known anything else.

The soft ballad ends and when you glance up at him, the façade he’s formed fades away before his heart has the chance to beg it to stay.

“I don’t really want to go on this date anymore, I probably look a mess and I’m just...not in the mood for not finding ‘the one’ tonight. I’ve got you, and that’s enough for now,” you confess, smiling up at him.

You say that, because as cheesy as it sounds, friends are a kind of soulmate too, and you’ve already found them. You can always look for ‘the one’ some other time. This revelation would feel sweet to any other friend, but to Tom, it hurts just a bit that to you he’s just a placeholder.

He manages to crack a half smile at your heartfelt statement, because no matter how he feels, he’s lucky to have you. Even if only as a friend.

“So how about we order a pizza and watch New Girl for the fiftieth time?” You question, oblivious and smiling up at him before pulling away from the hug and wiping at your wet eyes.

Any other time he would stay in with you, happy to watch you laugh to the point where he’s grinning at just your reactions. But he’s gotta be a good friend too, because well, he’s in the same boat as you. Except he’s found the one, and he doesn’t want to leave. Yet he knows the right thing to do is to go to the party he promised Zendaya and Jacob (and previously you) that he would attend. Though he still isn’t happy to admit it to you.

“I was going to go to Laura’s party tonight…” Tom grimaces, rubbing the back of his neck, because he knows you don’t like parties and you’re likely emotionally exhausted on top of that. He’s only going because he’s made a promise, and really— trust him— there’s nothing he’d rather do than spend time with his favorite person.

“Could I maybe go with you?” You ask, because being with friends, even if you don’t like parties is better than sulking at home alone.

Tom cracks a smile, and it’s easy to fall back into friend-mode with you. Because that’s what comes when it comes to you, before anything else.

“Well, I mean if you clean up I suppose I can just take you with me,” he teases you, “because I cannot show up with you like that.” He jokes and laughs as you shove him.

This kind of banter is normal and makes your heart feel just a little less heavy in your chest, because Tom always manages to make you feel better.

“Okay, just let me text him and let him know I won’t make it, and then I’ll try and look better for you,” you reply, laughing all while rolling your eyes.

You’ve got your phone in one hand texting, while your other wipes away at the makeup on your face. You’ve got a focused look on your face, squinting a bit because you don’t have the best eyesight and refuse to wear your glasses on first dates. But you look lovely to Tom, despite the crease between your eyebrows, your slightly opened mouth, and still smeared mascara.

part two

#if and when i add the second part to the mini series itll be the party #and ill let ya know about their past #👀👀👀👀👀#emi writes #tom holland #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x reader #tom holland blurb #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland writing #tom holland fluff #tom holland one shot #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfic

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