#he literally ignored the girls flirting with him to call me a loser it was embarrassing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mqverick · 5 months

Text

st. tropez party girl || ִ ࣪𖤐

“if you hold me tight, it's alright

let the fire ignite.”

─── ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ───

Jerry fucking Maguire. The man with the vision, the most known sports agent in the town, the guy who could set his mind into something and actually achieve it, even if it meant costing him the money for a once in a lifetime opportunity. Jerry Maguire, who was very openly a flirt, a cocky bastard, a pretentious loser and a little bit of a crazy person with unrealistic ambitions.

That’s who you had to work with and it both physically and mentally hurt you. You hated his guts, always had. You didn’t know a lot about him, just the basics and the ones written on the papers or spoken on the telly, but those few were enough for your mind to build up the rest of his personality, which you were not a big fan of.

God. You hated yourself for being so sentimental, but Jerry had just gotten fired and he looked sweaty and alone and miserable — not to mention how he’d literally fished out Flipper in front of everybody while completely losing every single remaining of his dignity through that ridiculous speech, at which everyone has been holding laughs back from, and you’d found yourself growing rather empathetic to his embarrassment, so you’d yelled out that you were going with him.

All eyes had been on you, strange looks, muffled snickers, even your friends at the office had warned you to sit your ass back where it had been for the past couple of years, with a secure future.

But no, you just had to save Jerry some of the embarrassment. You were currently in the elevator with him, awkward silence building up between the two of you as he fiddled around.

“Thought you hated me,” you heard him utter shyly. You glared at him, noticing the ungrateful choice of words after you’d just publicly humiliated yourself for him.

“Hate doesn’t exist in professionalism, Maguire. I’m strongly opposed against your idealism and quite frankly, not exactly fond of you either,” you replied sharply, not daring to look directly at him.

“Hm, so much for hate not existing.”

“But, I refuse to work for a bunch of fucking hippie hypocrites like Sugar. And you know, if it weren’t for me, no one would have had your back in there. Not even your precious assistant.”

Jerry gave you a weak, tight-lipped smile as he raised the bag with Flipper in it in the air. “From now on, the fish will symbolize a better future.”

You unintentionally chuckled, hurrying to put a straight face back on as you cleared your throat, wondering how the hell he managed to sound so drunk without having had the tiniest drop of alcohol in his body all day.

“You’re stupid,” you whispered under your breath, thankfully loud enough that it only reached your own ears.

“Thank you, you know,” Jerry turned to you, holding out his hand for you to take. “I honestly thought no one would believe in me.”

“Prove to me that you can be alone and then you’ll thank me, Jerry,” you spoke, moving past him and ignoring his hand as the doors opened.

That same evening, the moment you reached your home, you collapsed against the door, face buried in your hands as you mentally slapped and kicked yourself. What the fuck had you gone and done? Trusting Jerry fucking Maguire, Jerry Ma-fucking-uire, as Avery liked to call him. You were screwed, hopeless and at the mercy of the person you swore you wanted to erase from the universe.

But his mission statement had inspired you.

He spoke words that the others back at the office weren’t ready to hear, truths, facts, goals, dreams. That was the Jerry Maguire you quit your job for and maybe it wouldn’t be the messy waste of potential that your brain had pictured.

Except when you thought that things could actually possibly work out, Jerry found out that Cush and his family had signed a contract with Bob Sugar behind his back, and everything had returned back to the crap hole where it had began. With a single client hanging on by a thread, Jerry was wrecked and so were you.

Your life was destroyed, you’d decided.

Maybe acting out on those amateur pole dancing lessons that your older cousin had taught you back when you were 17 wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Jerry’s backup people were falling down like flies. Everyone was dropping him, first his own company, then Cush and eventually — which came as the biggest surprise — Avery.

You and Rod were his only hope.

For days now, you’d been rehearsing in front of your mirror how you’d tell him that you were dropping him as well. You were done, wouldn’t allow yourself to go bankrupt for a petty sad man.

It was either 9 o’clock or midnight, you couldn’t be arsed to check, because your favourite show was on TV and the commodity of your couch and blanket was comfortable enough to have you watching with your eyes half-lidded — when you heard a series of playful yet lazy knocks on your door. You groaned at the noise, not bothering to get into your slippers as you slid your sock-covered feet across the entrance, peeking through the door to see who was feeling rather silly in the middle of the night.

Of course it would be him. Who else?

For a second, you considered not opening the door for him. See if he’d stay there, in that pathetic posture of him, fingers running through his fucked up hair as he shivered just a little from being undressed in such a chilly weather. But then again, you’d already thrown your career away for him, so what gives?

“Hellooooo,” he said happily as you let him inside, grinning from ear to ear. The smell of booze hung in the atmosphere as he lazily wandered through the living room, smiling at your furniture and bursting into uncontrollable chuckles. You wished someone would shoot you — or rather him.

“Have you ever heard of a little something called, oh, I don’t know, calling before showing up at my front yard like the drunk fucking tooth fairy?” you gritted through your teeth. Jerry seemed unfazed.

“Mmm, someone’s… m-mad.”

“What are you doing here, Maguire?” you asked with a sigh, already growing tired of the sight of him. “And care to explain why you’re wearing alien sunglasses during nighttime?”

Jerry laughed as he pointed as his glasses, before removing them to reveal a swollen black eye with a huge cut next to it. You gasped when you saw it, concern washing over you as you rushed to his side for a better look.

“I, um, broke up with Avery.”

Damn, you certainly had not pegged Avery for the violent type. “Too bad, huh,” you mumbled, disappearing into the kitchen in search of an ice tray and a glass of water. When you walked back inside the living room, you found Jerry staring at the fishbowl that was placed on top of your fireplace, muttering something to Flipper, who was swimming without any worries.

“I fucking hate that fish,” he admitted and you held back a laugh as you gestured for him to sit down on the couch.

“What’s going on, Jerry?”

He shrugged. “Honestly? I don’t know. For the past few weeks, I’ve been watching my life fall apart right in front of my eyes. I’m finished. I am fucked! I’m a cautionary tale for everyone, no one trusts me because of that stupid mission statement I wrote after having what I think was two slices of cold, expired pizza and the worst of all is that you and Rod are the only people in my life that ever believed in me. Why are you even still with me? Why haven’t you dropped me yet?”

Your gaze softened and you opted for silence as you carefully let your hand graze the soft skin on his cheek, laying his head back against the couch. You brought the ice cub near his eyelid, feeling him wince as the cold material made contact with the still fresh wound. Jerry closed his eyes, trying to let himself relax against your touch.

“Wanna know why I haven’t left you, Jerry?” you asked and he nodded hesitantly in response. “Because what you think is a stupid memo made me realize that you have more potential than you give yourself credit for. You have something more than a need to succeed, you have a vision. You’re not just doing it for a money and in my brutally honest opinion, you’re more than just a man hiding behind a silver suit.”

You caught him smile at your words.

“You really mean that?”

Your contained smile barely lifted the corners of your mouth as you felt a certain warmth build up on your reddened cheeks. Sure, you’d seen Jerry smile before, but the gentleness and innocence that his soft, genuine beam wore was something you’d never witnessed before in your life. His two front teeth were visible through it and it tugged at your so far cold heartstrings, heating them up.

Your heart was hammering against your chest and your mind had gotten foggy along the way, which was partly the reason why your breath got caught in your throat the very moment you noticed that Jerry’s look had changed. “Do you mean that?” he repeated, this time more lowly.

“I’m still not fond of you.”

“That doesn’t really answer my question.”

You gulped, eyes fixated on his own green ones, which you swore were sparkling under the dim light of your sort of broken lamp. “Yes, I mean it.”

There it was again, that smile. Except this time it had something more to it that you couldn’t read (that you wouldn’t allow yourself to read, because you’d had your own share of drinks that evening and they had left just the right amount of courage in your body to do something stupid and regretful for the next day to feel embarrassed about.)

“What have I ever done to you?”

Jerry’s question sent your dreamy train of thoughts out of the rails, snapping you back into the reality of the things. “What?”

“You don’t like me. Why? What have I done?”

“Frankly, I thought you were just a pretentious jackass like Sugar. Maybe slightly less worse than him, but still pretty much a scumbag. Not to mention that your outbursts make me believe you’ve escaped out of some sort of mental institution centre.”

You never expected Jerry to lunge himself forward and knock the air out of you as his arms wrapped tightly against your sides, squeezing as he buried his head into the crook of your neck. Unsure of what to do, you froze in position, hands stuck uncomfortably on the couch, balling into fists as you bit down on your lip, waiting to breathe again after he pulled away with a hint of disappointment and gloom.

“Not a hugger?” he questioned.

“I just don’t want to be hugging you.”

“Ah, the heartwarming words of kindness.”

“I’m one step away from kicking you out of my house, Maguire. I don’t care if you’re drunk, it’s not my responsibility to take care of you or whatever you think this is. Want a place to crash, then you’re more than welcome to use my phone and third wheel Rod and his family.”

“I like that you’re honest.”

You blinked in surprise. How much had he chugged down before he decided to come over?

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s a quality I’ve never fully owned, you know?”

“You don’t say.”

Jerry didn’t say anything, just looked at you longingly, a silent conversation passing between the two of you. Then suddenly, “No one ever listens to me. When I’m with you, even though you say you hate me, I feel like you understand.”

Gosh, you couldn’t stand him. Was he really so desperate and unable to hold his own that he had to throw himself to whoever showed him the slightest sign of interest? “Jerry, stop.”

“All my life, all I’ve tried to do is talk. Really talk. And it’s not that people don’t listen, it’s that they don’t want to listen. Whatever I have to say just goes straight in and out of their ears. I spoke through my mission statement and you were the only one that actually heard.”

“Don’t.”

You felt your heart momentarily stop as Jerry moved closer to you, his lips alight on your cheek as if a ghost was gently stroking your skin in a silent confession that was so much deeper than what came through the surface.

“I’ll call a taxi. Thanks for not kicking me out. You know, tonight and, uh, generally speaking. I promise I’ll make everything work again and it’ll all be worth it,” he added before placing another kiss on your face, this time on your forehead. Jerry waved goodbye to you as he walked outside and for a strange reason, you found yourself fighting with a newfound desire and urge to both push him in front of a car and never have to see any of him anymore or set fire on the taxi he’d called and invite him back into your home to spend the night. You did neither, didn’t even have the words to say goodnight to him as you heard the door close, signalling that he’d finally left.

What time was it anyway? It felt like he’d been sitting beside you for what seemed like eternity.

The following day at work, you could say that you’d officially lost every will to live. Rod was yelling like crazy, as per usual, which was not helping your raging headache due to the lack of sleep you’d gotten over the night. Jerry Maguire occupying your brain into nightmares wasn’t exactly a chamomile and plate of chocolate chip cookies to help you drift in slumber.

Speaking of, Jerry had just asked you to come into his office, which was the sort of situation you’d been dreading ever since he’d left from your place last night.

“Asked to see me?” you called, voice cracking a little near the end of your sentence, which probably gave you away — fuck’s sake.

“Yeah, um, I wanted to talk,” he tensely replied.

“If it’s about…”

“It’s about last night,” he completed with a jittery tone. “Look, I brought you in a difficult moment. I was drunk and lonely and had no idea what was going on — I didn’t mean to show up like that.”

“Jerry, it’s fine,” you tried to cut him off, putting an end to the already painfully uncomfortable conversation before any other late night actions were mentioned, but apparently, Jerry had plans of his own.

“No, let me finish. I’m sorry I came over without warning and I’m also sorry for taking advantage of… you know, whatever was going through the atmosphere at said moment. But, uh, I feel like I need to let you know that I did and do appreciate everything you said and did for me last night, it was really nice to, um, hear something honest.”

Jerry glanced down at his lap, fingers fidgeting with the pen he was holding. You dared to take a quick look at him, just to see why he refused to meet your gaze, but the lighting from the blinds was dark enough to hide the blooming bush on his cheeks.

“Is that all?”

“Yeah, that’s all.”

“Okay,” you got up from your seat and were about to leave him alone in his thoughts, but your feet subconsciously stopped moving for a second and your body turned towards him as you cleared your throat in order to catch his attention. “Next time you show up at my place in the middle of the night, consider giving me a call first.”

You hurried outside, cursing your mouth for being such a pain in the neck. Whatever professionalism you and Jerry had shared was now long gone.

What you missed, though, was the relieved sigh and small smile that crept into his face when you left the unspoken invitation hanging in the air.

───

It had started getting better with Jerry. A few days (or was it weeks? You couldn’t really tell, because whenever he was around, you’d lose track of time) had passed and what had begun as great hatred for him had turned into tolerance and slight fondness. It was weird how sometimes you’d catch yourself watching Jerry walking away or Jerry smiling or Jerry panicking through the phone — for that matter. The man had gotten under your skin into a worryingly quick time.

For once again, as accustomed to, everything went to hell the moment he came across the struggle of yet another emotional meltdown. Rod was losing and the recruiters and reporters seemed unimpressed with him, which Jerry handled poorly, unable to imagine a scenario where Bob Sugar was laughing at his face for being what his ex fiancée had so successfully described him as; a fucking loser.

He was alone, pissed off with Rod, pissed off with Sugar, with his job, with the company, the circumstances of his daily fucked up life, with you, but mostly with his own self.

You could see he was letting himself have it and this time, you wouldn’t risk it again. So you decided to do what you thought was moral and announce to him that you’d been offered another job opportunity, which you wouldn’t decline.

“You’re leaving me?” he asked in disbelief, wearing that stupid pair of sunglasses again.

“Look at you, Jerry! You’re fucked, how the fuck am I supposed to think you can afford to have me when you don’t even know what you’re doing?”

“Fine! Be like all the others, then, go the fuck on. I don’t need you here anyway. You said it; I don’t know what to do, well you’re fucking right!”

Jerry was shouting and throwing fists at the wall, eyes widened and red, holding back fearful tears.

“You don’t know what it’s like to be me out here. It is an up-at-dawn, pride swallowing siege that I will never fully tell you about, okay? You don’t know anything about my fucking life!”

“And nor am I interested to!” you yelled, throwing your purse across the room, almost hitting him. “You know, if I had even one shred of respect for you before, it’s now kissed goodbye,” you added in a much calmer tone before leaving him, sniffling and holding back hot tears that burned through your eyes. You let them free once you home, streaming down your face like lava.

You didn’t even know what you were crying for.

Last time you checked, you didn’t care about Jerry Maguire raising his voice at you. Last time you checked, you were just a simple accountant who worked for Sports Management International, barely acknowledging his existence.

It was late when the phone rang and after a series of sobs and thousands of tissue packets filling up the rubbish bins, you wondered who it could be.

“Hello?”

“You told me to call.”

He surely heard the hitch sound your breath made when his voice echoed in your head.

“Maguire?”

“Yeah. I know it’s late again and I would be lying if I said that I didn’t want to bother you, because I really, really do. I need to see you, please. It’ll only be a minute, just give me a chance.”

It sounded as though he’d been crying as well, voice raspy, weak, chocked.

“Get lost. I don’t want to talk to you.”

“That’s fine, you don’t need to. I’ll talk enough for both of us. Can I come over? You won’t even notice when I’ll be gone, it’ll be that quick.”

A short inhale, then; “Fine.”

When he arrived, he looked like a mess. His eyelashes looked darker and red, eyes puffy and blurry. His hair was all over the place and you could make out the fact that he was struggling to keep his breathing steady, his lips drawn in tightly. The sight of him in that state almost made you burst into tears all over again.

“Hi,” he greeted lowly, afraid of his voice cracking.

“You have five minutes, Jerry.”

What sort of torture was this? Being just a breath away from breaking down in front of him, making a complete loser move and humiliating yourself, you stared at the ceiling above you, biting so roughly down on your lip that you thought you tasted a bit of blood (but that was just you being dramatic about the whole situation.)

“Five minutes? I’m trying to apologize, I can’t do this being timed! Listen, I—I wanted to say that I was stupid about everything I said earlier, I was having an existential crisis and there were so many emotions bottled up and it just flooded. Flooded all over my brain, which caused me not to think straight, so I took it out on you and—”

Jerry was cut off by the loud thud of your door getting shut. You ignored his restless knocking, walking back into the living room, drawing the thick curtains together when he tried to catch your attention from the windows as well. It took him a great deal of time to eventually give up, motioning to you something that you couldn’t quite understand at first. His hands were moving in a way as though he was saying he slipped something under your door and damn you for believing that the curiosity killed the cat.

When he got out of sight, you tiptoed slowly to the door, grabbing what seemed to be a wrinkly napkin. You wiped your tearing up eyes and read what he’d written on it.

‘You’re right. I do drive people away, but I can’t afford to do that to you too.’

“Jerry Maguire!” you called loudly after him after running outside to catch up with him. Thankfully, he hadn’t gone too far, freezing still at the sound of your voice. He turned around to double check that it wasn’t some sort of mirage his mind was playing on him and let out an exhausted laugh of relief as he walked quickly toward you, grabbing you into a soul crushing hug. He was so tightly pressed up against you that you thought you’d merge into one person, but you couldn’t care enough, returning the intensity of the hug right back.

“Please, just hang on for a little bit more. I’m going to make everything up to you, I can’t fucking lose you, I—” he stopped mid-sentence, stunned at himself as he began pulling away, hands still holding onto your shoulders.

You urged him to continue, clueless about why he’d so abruptly cut himself off just to look at you. It was giving you the creeps, the silence and darkness outside allowing the light breeze to be heard into your eardrums like a loud parade. Jerry was looking at you with such fragility and it hurt that you couldn’t read him, couldn’t understand what was going through that head of his.

His pupils were dilated, blown and dark, causing the green irises to glow under the gloominess of the sky. Jerry was looking at you almost as if…

No. No — this was just your mind being sick.

Jerry left as suddenly and coldly as he’d abandoned his previous sentence, out of any excuses and explanations. You couldn’t bare to question anything, simply leaving it to the way he had, hanging in the air, playing tricks with your imagination, giving you hope for something that you couldn’t fully comprehend either.

Three days later, you accidentally caught yourself shamelessly overhearing him ask Rod how to be able to tell if he’d fallen in love.

───

You were certain that the universe had chosen to make it your destiny to lose and hate Jerry Maguire. It was always one step forward and a whole road trip back. There were moments, many of them, where you thought that the thin line between hate and love had been crossed, but it ended up showing that you couldn’t have been more wrong, ultimately always screwing up — either him or you, you were tired of keeping score at this point — what seemed to make your heart flutter like you were leaving into the dream of a hopeless, predictable romcom movie.

Jerry was hot and cold.

You were up and down.

It was pointless, had been ever since the beginning. You kept losing him, right when your fingers had just grasped him, he kept slipping. It was neither’s fault really; both occupied with the misfortunes of work, trying to psyche Rod up for his big game, consulting endlessly while trying to maintain the already existing deals, raising the prices, focusing on that one client, showing the money — as Jerry liked to put it.

Under the environmental stress of the job, you and Jerry had been unable to connect the same way you did during all those short lived moments, the late night visits, the sleep disrupting calls.

But then, one day he caught you off guard as you’d just finished your duties and were about to take off, making you stop dead in your tracks.

“Do you, um… Are you… I know a great place!”

You stole a quick glance at him and noticed that his fingers were crossed, lips curled into an upward pout, eyes dreamingly bright. There wasn’t much you could say except for pick me up at 8 o’clock. He did exactly as he was told, ringing on your doorbell right on time, but you kept him waiting outside just for a minute, fixing your high heel in a rush. Truth is you’d spent all time trying to figure out the perfect outfit, just for him, just to get to see that one look he’d given you back in that night all over again.

And he did.

When you opened the door to reveal yourself dressed neatly in a velvet black dress that stopped a few inches lower than your thighs, hair flawlessly covering your bare shoulders, Jerry blushed bright red, not sure how to greet you. His jaw was slightly agape in awe, heart pumping fast and loudly against his chest, blood flowing quickly as the butterflies battled in his stomach.

“I— Woah,” he eventually managed. You innocently looked down at yourself, knowing exactly what you were doing to him but deciding to pretend to be oblivious.

“Is there something wrong?”

“You look… Fuck, you look Audrey Hepburn stunning. I feel like an underdressed jerk.”

That was not true, at least not for you. He was wearing a Sacramento colored shirt, with the top button of the collar undone, revealing a white tee. His pants were a simple beige pair of trousers and for the first time, he showed up at your house with his hair looking surprisingly nice.

You chuckled nervously at his comment, matching the scorching redness on his cheeks.

“Are we actually supposed to be nice to each other now?” you spilled out after a few moments, embarrassed by your choice of words.

“I suppose so. Shall we?” Jerry proposed, handing his shoulder out to you playfully. You slapped it away, hurting both his pride and arm, but the minute you realized the disappointment in his eyes, you mentally took a deep breath and linked your hands together, squeezing unintentionally due to the nervousness, but relaxing as you felt his thumb rub circles on the outside of your palm.

The restaurant he’d chosen was beautiful.

He was a gentleman; helping you get seated, pouring water into your glass, handing you the menu. It almost felt like a real date. In anticipation of the food getting served, you went for a small talk, which felt embarrassingly awkward.

“So, uh, how do you know this place?”

“Took Avery here on the third date, I think?”

“Ah.”

Jerry noticed your uneasiness and reached for your hand that was on the table.

“I don’t want to talk about her tonight, though. I’ve got a beautiful woman with me already.”

Your eyes widened comically and you slipped your hand away from his, scratching the back of your neck. “Look, Jerry, I thought this would be a nice way to get to finally know you, you know?”

“It is! I’ll help you get to know me. At work I’ve been all over the fucking place, you probably think I’m insane or something, but, uh, I swear, I’m actually a decent person.”

“Are you? You’ve done nothing to prove me otherwise.”

“I am. Besides, you said that my mission statement inspired you. I wrote that from the heart, put all my thoughts and dreams in there, so I guess I have in fact proven you otherwise.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, what’s up?”

You gulped in order to gain the confidence to utter the question out, looking deep into his gorgeous green eyes as you tugged a strand of hair behind your ear. “That night, when you came into my house drunk — I just can’t help but wonder why did you come to me instead of Rod? Or anyone else for that matter.”

Jerry tensed up, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He looked as if he was about to confess something and just the thought made your knees jittery.

“As I said that same night, I feel like you understand me in a level no one else does. I was lonely and miserable and had no idea to do with my life and suddenly you were the first person that came into my mind, so I decided to pay you an unwanted visit. The reason I didn’t call was because I know how you feel about me and I could only imagine that you would’ve held a negative attitude if I asked to come over through the phone, so, that’s pretty much how it goes. You’ve been in my mind ever since.”

“Oh, Jerry,” you mouthed in a dazzling tone. No, you couldn’t do this. “Jerry, we need to stop.”

He looked at you through furrowed brows.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m taking about this. It’s been happening for almost a month now and all I know is that it’s confusing me, but I know for one thing that I can’t bare to put myself through something that I know will end up hurting me. It’s not your fault and it’s not mine either — it’s just our nature. I’m not build like this; I can’t just tiptoe back and forth into whatever the fuck this is, it needs to stop.”

Jerry was more confused than ever, feeling his own eyes well up at the sight of the first tear rolling down your cheek. “What happened?”

“You know what, Jerry — and for fuck’s sake, quit staring at me like I’m your entire world or something!” you said, your voice subconsciously raising. You got up from the chair and roamed through your purse for your wallet, leaving a bunch of money bills on the table as you hesitantly walked over to where he was.

“So what, you just stop talking to me?”

“You and I are both aware that an end needs to be put in this and you’re not strong enough for it, so I’m going to be the one to do it.”

“What if I don’t want you to?”

“It’s not your call,” you whispered, leaning down and taking his head in your hands, pressing it softly against your stomach as you leaned down to place a lingering kiss on the top of it.

“Please don’t leave me,” you heard Jerry choke out, his hands encircling your waist, afraid to let you go.

“You need to focus on Rod. Big game’s coming up and you can both do it. You’ll have a brilliant career, Jerry, I truly believe that and you’ll always have all my support, but you’re just going to have to do this on your own,” were your last words before you walked away, leaving him behind, wrecked, people staring not so discreetly as he held behind the sobs of the following two weeks.

───

Rod was finally getting to be a big deal. Jerry’s career had blossomed again, just as you’d promised to him. Everything in his life was going perfectly — then why did he feel so fucking empty inside? Watching Rod with his family made him hurt, reminiscing about the way you’d left him that day at the restaurant. Hadn’t been able to reach out to you ever since.

Jerry Maguire realised he was in love when his client called him in the spotlight to pose along with him. Nothing like that had ever occurred to him before and it felt so surrealistic, yet so true at the same time. He needed you to be there with him, needed to hear your voice, see you smile. Listen to you say that you were proud of him or even glare at him as if you wanted to burn a hole through his head and finish him.

Jerry was in love with you and it dwelled on him how much he’d actually been missing you.

Not caring about anything, he ran to the airport, knowing he had to make things right. The flight back home was killing him, time passing disgustingly slow for his liking. When he finally got off, he almost tripped towards his way to the taxi station. Precisely forty three minutes and ten seconds, he was finally standing outside of your door, his luggage thrown over his shoulder as he simply stared forward, unable to move.

Was he really doing this?

According to his bachelor video, the only thing he was great at was friendships. But he’d just taken off with his career and he needed to fulfil all the promises he’d made, so there he was, knocking on your door for once more. If you decided you still didn’t want him, then he’d go forever.

“Hello — oh.”

His breath disappeared when he saw you. How long had it really been? You were surprised, not expecting him at all. Your movements were limited, limbs completely in shock as you scooted away to let him in. Your mind was short circuiting as he looked around the place like nothing had happened, like the two of you hadn’t had talked in — was it months? Or just weeks that felt like decades?

“Hello. If this is where it has to happen, then this is where it has to happen,” Jerry began. You cocked your head in confusion, staring blankly at him. “I'm not letting you get rid of me. How about that? This used to be my specialty. You know, I was good in a living room. They’d send me in there, and I’d do it alone. And now I just... But tonight, our little project, our company had a very big night — a very, very big night. But it wasn’t complete, wasn’t nearly close to being in the same vicinity as complete, because I couldn’t share it with you. I couldn’t hear your voice or laugh about it with you. I missed you, I missed having you around. We live in a cynical world, and we work in a business of tough competitors. I love you. You complete me. And I just —”

“Shut up,” you mustered through tears. “Just shut up. You had me at ‘hello’.” And before you even knew what was happening, you were walking towards him, crashing your lips onto his hard with a fervent need you’d never known before. His hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you impossibly close to his body as he smiled through the kiss, feeling you reciprocate the action. Both you and Jerry were still crying, unable to hold back the tears of what could’ve happened ages ago if either of you had had the balls to actually pursue it.

But neither of you cared.

Because you were finally kissing Jerry Maguire and your life felt complete, just as he’d described. He completed you and you completed him and the feeling had you melting against him, knees buckling, mind dizzy from his words and his scent and the way he so perfectly belonged against your lips. Your heart nearly leapt out of your chest as he pulled away, trying to catch his breath.

“I love you so much. I’ve loved you ever since you came with me when I got fired. I wouldn’t be where I am right now without you,” Jerry said, leaning his forehead against yours as he cupped your cheeks, holding you gently and lovingly.

“I love you Jerry Maguire.”

FIN.

i wrote this for my favourite girl @honeymvnt , hope you enjoy beautiful !! 🫶🏼🎀

#jerry maguire #tom cruise #tom cruise x reader #idiots in love #angst prompt #maverick fanfic #maverick fluff #maverick x reader #maverick x you #pete maverick mitchell #tom cruise imagine #he’s such a loser #lots of love #lots of angst #so much fluff #jerry maguire x reader

117 notes · View notes

sky-the-trans-guy00 · 1 year

Text

Her PR Guy-Chapter 1

Disclaimer

I wrote this story with a trans male insert because I, myself, am a trans dude, and there hasn’t been a whole lot of content in this fandom for trans men. Without further ado, this is my debut story.

Y/N’s POV

I met Kristie while working in Gotham’s Public Relations Department. I was a recent college graduate with a passion for sports and storytelling, yet I had little to no idea what type of world I was stepping into. My job was to run the social media accounts and help craft stories that would captivate fans and media members alike. What I didn’t realize at the time, is that my story would be worth telling someday, too.

***

It was my first media day working for Gotham, and I was totally freaking out. I mean, this was my dream, one that I had fought tooth and nail for. I had never dared to imagine this possibility, but here I was, and I felt woefully unprepared.

Get it together (Y/N)! You worked so hard to get here, and we got this. Yael believes in you, and you can conquer anything you set your mind to. You wanted so badly to have a fresh start, so take advantage of it!

I went over to the players and introduced myself, "Hey everyone, my name's (Y/N), my pronouns are he/him, and I'm your new PR guy." A lot of the players seemed stunned, probably because I'm a guy working for an NWSL team, so I decided to clear some things up. “I’m also a proud trans man who knows that the future is female, especially in sports. I’ll be mainly working with the photographers and videographers to get content for our socials, but I’m here if you need anything.”

Kristie’s POV

“Did anyone else find him super attractive, or is it just me?” Kristie said.

“He’s definitely a cutie,” Ali said and Lynn nodded in agreement.

“He could be just what the doctor ordered, with your recent breakup and everything,” added Midge.

“He’s easy on the eyes, that’s for sure,” Kristie responded while looking at you as you walked away from the team, ”Let’s just hope he isn’t a fuckboy.”

***

Y/N’s POV

It’s been over a month since I introduced myself to the players, and I can’t get Kristie Mewis out of my head. She’s been flirting with me since we met, but I can barely function in her presence, not to mention I literally work for the team. Before I can get too in my head about it, I get a call from my buddy Alex.

“Hey (Y/N)! How’s the new job going?”

“It’s going well,” I replied, “I think I have a crush on one of the players, though…”

“I fail to see the problem, bro,” said Alex.

“You are a hot, eligible bachelor, and any girl would be lucky to have you. You even told me that two of the players are married, so workplace dating is obviously not a problem.”

“Yeah, but I’m not trying to deal with another Karen incident!” I exclaimed.

Karen was a close friend of mine in college who really fucked me over. I managed her campaign for Student Body President, and when she found out I had a crush on her, she flipped out and cut me off, but only after I helped her win the election. She ignored me for weeks following her win, and when we finally spoke about what had happened, she told me she thought it was best that we ‘keep it professional.’ To add insult to injury, all of our mutual friends decided I wasn’t worth sticking around for. I tried to take the “high road” and didn’t tell anyone my side of things until it was too late and they had already taken her side.

“How long are you going to let Karen control your life? You can’t keep giving other people your power, bro.”

I knew that he wasn’t wrong, but I wasn’t ready to let go of the past.

“Yeah, but this girl is so out of my league it’s unbelievable. Not to mention, I’m pretty sure she has a girlfriend!”

“You sure about that (Y/N)?”

“Not entirely, but why would she date a loser like me when she has her pick of almost every queer athlete?”

Much to my chagrin, I was not athletic by any means, which was definitely an insecurity of mine. Deep down, I still felt like the sad, closeted, insecure kid with no friends that I was in High School, despite all of my work in therapy.

“You may not be athletic, but you’re super kind and loyal as fuck. Trust me when I say that what you think you may lack in physical attractiveness pales in comparison to the type of person you are. You’re full of green flags— except for your inability to take a good selfie, which most people find endearing. Face it (Y/N), the only thing that’s standing in your way is you. You control your own destiny, and you my friend are a catch; remember that.” Said Alex

“Thanks for hyping me up, my guy. I’m going to talk to my therapist about this.” I said.

“As you should, (Y/N)! I’m here for you if you need anything, and I’m only one call away. You got this homie.”

I ended the call and reflected upon Alex’s advice.

Everything you want is in reach and ripe for the taking! You got this (Y/N), I thought to myself.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #kristie mewis x reader #kristie mewis #kristie mewis imagine #uswnt imagine #uswnt x reader #transmasculine reader

73 notes · View notes

waynedunlaptheorgandonor · 3 years

Text

watched s11ep1

i will provide you with a quick review before i disappear back into the ether of twd avoidance

lots of spoilers under the cut. also i wrote way too much and i worked all night and haven’t slept so i didn’t bother to reread literally any of it, so it might be completely nonsensical, tho if you don’t expect that from me by this point idk whose blog you’ve been reading

enjoy:

hokay, first off, i’ll start by saying that i enjoyed it more than i expected to. i’ve been avoiding any sort of discussion about stuff, but my google algorithm is so fucked at this point that i still get recommended articles and stuff every now and then, so i was already pretty aware of what i was walking into, and was expecting it to be eh, but actually i prob enjoyed it more than i enjoyed the finale

(don’t get too excited tho, the finale was rly boring lmfao)

anyway

episode starts off with a tense scouting mission

it takes .005 seconds into the episode for caryl to exchange a look of longing, establishing that they are still having weird conflict and are both too fucking stubborn to do anything about it even tho they hate it desperately

i imagine that will continue for a while

rosita, kelly, carol, maggie, what’s her face with the bad hair, and lydia (i think that’s everyone?) lower down to some army bunker or something, where a bunch of walkers are taking a snooze, and the girls are very respectful of walker naptime, and do their best not to wake them up

obviously they eventually wake up, but i’ll get to that in a sec

as they’re tiptoeing through the walker tulips, there’s this split second where carol spots a machine gun, and looks at maggie with a face like, “can i plzzzz, i am mad horny for that machine gun,” but maggie tells her no. (i 110% expected her to defy orders and accidentally wake up all the walkers, but she actually behaved herself for once. well. mostly)

never fear, tho, after the girl gang collects a bunch of MREs they go back to wait for the dudes waiting up top to pull them up, and bc men ruin everything, one of the ropes break, and daryl catches it before it falls, but then a slow motion drop of blood falls on a walker’s face, and just like that, walker naptime is over, and carol uses her bow and arrow for two seconds before she is like “fuck this” and whips out the machine gun

yes, she is super hot using it

yes, daryl watches her do it

anyway, all the other girls get rescued, and carol is about to be pulled up, but bc she is a #girlboss, she first makes a beeline for one more crate full of MREs. daryl covers her while she gets the loot, and when she gets back up top they have another charged moment as carol hands him back his knife

just fuck already, jfc

titles!

cut to alexandria where everything is still not smilestimes

BUT, we do get to see uncle daryl run and hug rj and judith (and dog), and FUCKING HERSHEL JR, LIGHT OF MY LIFE is also there

istg, they could not have casted a better child, i a d o r e him

oh, and some friends of maggie’s show up too, idk

cut to a staff meeting where everyone is like, whomp whomp, we’re all gonna starve to death unless we figure out something quick

cue maggie going, “oh, i know where food is, but it requires me to tell you my tragic backstory, in case anyone didn’t watch my bottle episode”

she tells her dramatic backstory about all her friends getting slaughtered by the reapers for no apparent reason, and then she’s like “anyway, let’s go back there!”

no one thinks it’s a great idea, but a group of people decide to go anyway, including daryl and gabriel. rosita is super pissed that gabriel is going, and carol doesn’t go, probably partly bc it’s a shitty fucking idea, and also bc they have to keep caryl apart bc otherwise they’ll fix their problems ahead of schedule and they won’t be able to drag out the needless angst

daryl looks kind of annoyed that carol doesn’t volunteer to go

bitch, i thought you wanted her to stop putting herself in the line of fire! make up your damn mind!

moving on

cut to a thunderstorm, where, if you look closely, you’ll notice daryl is wearing the STUPIDEST hat i’ve ever seen. just get an umbrella, jfc

for some reason negan is with them, bc ig he knows his way around washington dc, and no one in six years has bothered to figure out how to get around the city and/or get a map, and he is like “hey guys, maybe we shouldn’t try to walk in this fucking hurricane,” and everyone is like “FUCK YOU NEGAN, YOU’RE NOT THE BOSS OF US!!!”

this will be a common occurrence

but eventually daryl is even like “actually, it’s rly unpleasant out here, and my hat is mad stupid, can we go inside plz?”

so they go inside an old metro station, which is actually a rly cool cinematic choice. i rly like the idea, and they executed it rly well

speaking of executions

there are some fucking RULL CREEPY walkers. idk why they bothered me so badly, but they were what they at first assumed were corpses wrapped up in tarps, but turns out none of them had been properly put down, so they go through killing these rotted bodies that had supposedly been there since The Fall, and it’s very gross and cool

this entire time, btw, negan is like “hey, i know i’m a shitty person, but i have some rational arguments about why we shouldn’t be doing this right now,” and everyone is like, “FUCK YOU NEGAN, YOU’RE NOT THE BOSS OF US!!!” and he’s just like “god fucking damnit”

(i forgot to mention that at one point, when they’re headed into the metro station, negan is trying to warn ppl of the potential danger, and everyone is ignoring him, and he tries to talk to daryl, and daryl is like “fuck you, you think we’re BUDDIES?” and negan is like “oh, ok, so you’re gonna be like that too? fanfreakingtastic” and it’s very funny)

anyway. a fat monster zombie escapes its tarp at one point, and tries to eat some npc, and negan saves him, again is like “hey, anyone else realize that this is a FUCKING BAD PLAN?”, and everyone is like “we don’t care, you’re still shitty and we’re not listening to you, and you don’t actually care about random npc i would literally not be able to pick out in a lineup bc his face is so generic, you’re not the boss of us!!!”

it’s at this point that negan finally is like, “why am i even here? bc i know how to get around washington dc? do none of you have a map?” and i was like, “right?! that’s what i said!”

it’s then revealed that maggie only brought negan along to murder him under the guise of “oops, he got hurt in the line of duty, it wasn’t my fault,” and daryl has this look on his face that says, “i seriously need to stop hanging out with lethal women bent on revenge bc it’s gonna give me high blood pressure,” and maggie has a badass moment where she points a gun she has for some reason at negan and is like “i have like, one shred of human compassion left inside of me, and if you keep pushing me i will fucking kill you without a second thought, so shut the hell up”

(in her defense, negan had just dropped glenn’s name to purposely antagonize her, which was rude as hell)

(for the record, i’m completely on maggie’s side here, but negan still is right that trapping themselves in a metro station is a bad call)

anyway, moving away from that briefly

i think this jump cut happens sooner, i don’t actually remember, but whatever who cares, point is, we get to the part of the show that actually matters, and that’s anything involving my love, juanita “princess” sanchez

and also eugene, yumiko, and ezekiel

they are being asked increasingly invasive questions by commonwealth ppl, some of which i wish they actually would of answered (what do they use to wipe their asses with?? surely toilet paper has long since become extinct)

zeke, who is so much more tolerable as a character now that he’s not larping as a king, has this incredibly weird and sort of sexually charged moment with a dude in an orange stormtrooper costume, where he’s like, “i bet you were an asshole cop back before The Fall, you stupid fascist, #fuckthepolice, mb literally? idk, this moment has a lot of pent up aggression that could easily translate to hate sex, it might just be the intense eye contact, but w/e, let’s just move along,” and then he has a coughing fit to remind the audience that he’s currently dying of cancer, and orange stormtrooper is like “lolz, loser, drink some water you dumb piece of shit”

cut to the wholesome foursome sitting at a picnic table in a guarded courtyard eating gruel, and yumkio, who finally has a personality, and princess are like “hey, this place fucking sucks, can we leave?” and zeke is like, “yeah, i met this orange stormtrooper who i think might be dtf and/or murder, so we should probably bounce”

but eugene is like, “but i want some hot stephanie ass, and also some bullshit excuse about how mb commonewealth will save alexandria” which, they left before things went super downhill, right? idr. it was after hilltop fell, but they don’t know alexandria got fucked either, if i recall? w/e, not important

two seconds after he says this, they talk to some people who are like “we’ve been here for four months, or maybe it’s been nine, i don’t actually remember, i’ve stopped processing the passage of time,” and the wholesome foursome takes this as a bad sign, tho that’s just the life i’ve lived as a night worker during a pandemic, so i was like #mood

but then they watch some guy get dragged away screaming to get “reprocessed” and eugene is like “ok, nvm, let’s bounce”

(my theory on what “reprocessing” is, is that they’re stuck in a room and have to watch hours and hours of customer service training videos on vhs from the 90s)

i definitely got my jump cut scenes mixed up bc i think the negan accusing maggie of a murder plot thing happened in between this scene and then the next commonwealth scene, but w/e, i’ll just finish what happens in the commonwealth arch

the wholesome foursome are trying to hatch a plan to escape, except princess, my love, is distracted watching some stormtroopers flirt, and the other three are like “wtf, dude, how can you even tell any of them apart?” and princess then tells them every stormtroopers backstory bc she is brilliant and pays rly close attention to shit, and the other three are like, “this is useful information, thank you for being an insane person”

their plan involves yumiko and eugene dressing up as stormtroopers and leading princess and zeke out of the place, which works fine actually, except on their way out they come across the Depressing Wall of Probably Mostly Dead Missing Loved Ones

they’re about to leave, when princess is like, “wait, yumiko, you’re on here, that’s weird huh?”

sure enough, yumiko is on the wall, with a note from ig her sister

the scene ends with yumiko going, “guys...i can’t leave...i have tragic backstory to unveil”

tragic backstory to be continued ig

back in murder metro town, npc and some other npc have stolen all the supplies, there’s a train blocking the track, and a horde of walkers are coming towards them, so things are not going fantastic

they horde is too big to take down, so they start to climb on top of the train car to get away

but dog runs away!

and daryl, being every pet owner ever, is like “gotta go get my dog, guys, try not to get killed while i’m gone, c u soon!” and he ducks under the train and disappears

#priorities

the episode ends with maggie climbing up the train car but getting grabbed by a walker and dangling off the edge, and negan is there and they have a lion king moment where maggie is like, “scar! help me!” and negan is like “long live the king, bitch” and walks away into the shadows, leaving maggie to a potential death

which, while i know isn’t actually going to happen, would be a really fucking funny move on the writers’ part

like, “look, lauren’s back! and now she’s dead, bet you didn’t expect that!”

anyway

my assumption is negan will actually end up helping her up or something, continuing his ambiguous morality bullshit that actually isn’t ambiguous bc he BEAT GLENN TO DEATH WITH A FUCKING BAT WRAPPED IN BARBED WIRE IN FRONT OF HIS PREGNANT WIFE

the maggie/negan arch is kind of dumb, but whatevs, i’ll tolerate it, as long as my boy glenn gets justice in the end

anyway, cue credits!

final assessment: good episode. i’m much more interested in commonwealth than the reapers, tho i am hoping that daryl’s personality-less ex turns out to be a monster killing machine with no conscience, that’ll be fun. princess is a gift from god. hershel jr needs his own tv show. needs more carol (and caryl)

the end! going back into my walking dead free chamber! see you next episode!

-diz

#i didn't mean to recap the entire fucking episode lol #sorry #it's to make up for my lack of content lately #or something #anyway #caryl #twd s11ep1 #twd s11 spoilers #dunlap tp

76 notes · View notes

troubatrain · 4 years

Text

truth or dare - m. barzal

a/n: so @dembenchboys sent me an ask about how they wanted me to write a fic about Mat eating you out for the first time and then I absolutely ran with it. So happy Saturday here’s some straight up filth that i wrote in like a night (which I haven’t been able to do in forever so that’s exciting!!)

Your roommate’s boyfriend was an absolute idiot. Anthony was about half a bottle of wine deep, his cheeks red while tears were practically streaming down his face from laughter. He barged into your apartment a few hours ago, Mat in tow, ruining your girl’s night in with Zoe. Mat was apologetic, lounging on the couch in sweats shaking his head at Anthony who didn’t take your hints that they should leave.

“I just think we should play truth or dare if it's a girl's night,” Anthony argues, waving the glass of rose he was drinking around your couch, Zoe grabbing his hand to stop him from spilling it.

“I just think you’re an idiot,” You snap back, rolling your eyes at Zoe who was trying to tame her getting-drunker-by-the-minute boyfriend.

“I’ll play,” Mat sighs, sipping his beer and sitting up from the otherside of the couch.

“I thought you were on my side here,” You tap Mat in the arm, reminding him of the secret alliance you’d made a few weeks prior.

It was silly, but after Anthony and Zoe left you with Mat in a bar, Mat was pissed. Not at you, which he made clear after he told you about fifteen times he was mad at his teammate. But, he was so upset that Anthony invited you both out but couldn’t even bother to offer you a ride home. You told him it was fine, because most of the time Anthony was actually really kind to you, but Mat didn’t believe it. After he’d driven you home, Mat made a joke about how if you were both constantly forced to third wheel your friends, you could at least have each other's backs.

“I am,” Mat assures you, waving his hand at you and leaving over to whisper to you, “Sometimes it’s just easier to let him win.”

“I’ll play one round,” You sigh, Mat’s landing on your thigh to give it a squeeze, “Don’t get too excited.”

“I am excited,” Anthony cheers, an app with a bunch of random truth or dares literally open on his phone already, “You’re going first Y/N - truth or dare?” “Truth,” You sigh, leaning back into the couch. You hear a chorus of boo’s from everyone else at your answer, “Do you want me to play or not?”

“You’re so lame,” Anthony hollers, dragging out his words, tapping his phone to shuffle a truth question, “Oh this is a good one, tell the story of the best orgasm you ever had.”

Zoe’s eyes went wide, looking at you while you choked on your drink. It wasn’t a sensitive topic, the whole never having an orgasm thing, but it definitely wasn’t something you wanted to talk about with Zoe’s drunk ass boyfriend and his insanely handsome teammate. Your past boyfriends hadn’t always been great, and considering not one of them had ever gone down on you, it wasn’t surprised you’d never had someone get you off. You could feel the heat rush to your cheeks and before a lie could come to mind, Anthony already had you read.

“You’ve never had an orgasm,” Anthony accuses, a confused look on his face. You gave it away, nodding your head and not even daring to turn to look at Mat who was sitting next to you, “Oh my-” “Beau,” Zoe stops him, grabbing his arm to remind him to be nice with whatever thing he had to say next.

“How?” Anthony asks, his jaw still practically hitting the floor, “What kind of douchebags are you dating? Or is it-” “Tito, no one’s ever gone down on me and I’ve never had an orgasm,” You start to explain, anger boiling in you that you had to explain yourself at all, “You know what? I’m going.”

You get up, grabbing your glass and a few empty plates that were littering the coffee table. You heard Anthony call your name, probably to apologize for striking a nerve, but you ignored him. You were moving around the kitchen frantically, cleaning to try and distract yourself from your own emotions. You just didn’t want to talk about it, talking about your sex life just wasn’t something you did often. You hear a few footsteps in the kitchen and you turn around quickly to spot Mat was leaning against the counter waiting for you to turn off the sick.

“Zoe drove Tito home,” Mat sighs, getting up and gently turning the knob to turn off the sink, “And I’m sorry he’s a dick.” “It’s not your fault Mat,” You take a deep breath, not breaking eye contact with the plate that was in your hand, “I shouldn’t have gotten so upset with him.”

“No you should have, he shouldn’t have questioned you,” Mat argues back, “It’s okay you know, by the way.”

“I don’t need validation from you about my lack of sexual experience just because you get laid all the time Mat,” You remind him, finally looking up at the apologetic man in front of you. Mat’s eyes were soft, with a smile that matched when you finally looked at him, “It could be just me.” “Or it’s whatever losers you’re dating who won’t go down on a girl,” Mat scoffs, running a hand through his hair. His mind had been blown from the second he realized why you didn’t answer Anthony’s question. But, Mat could believe never having an orgasm, but never having someone go down on you - that should have been a crime, “I bet I could get you off.”

“My first orgasm isn’t some prize Mat,” You say, walking past Mat to open your fridge and pull out the bottle of wine you’d opened a few hours ago.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Mat rushes out, trying to fix his mistake. He looks panicked for a moment, like the gears in his head were turning. He took a few steps forward boldly, taking the bottle out of your hand and pushing you against the counter, “I just mean I could take care of you if you’ll let me.”

Mat’s large hands were gripping your waist, and you could feel yourself practically melting under his touch. You look straight at his chest, watching the chain peeking out from under his hoodie shine against the fluorescent lighting in your kitchen. You knew you breathing was heavy, and you bit your lip debating it for just a moment. Mat was a good guy, and you were sure no one would ever find out about this if you asked him to keep it quiet, “I’m not a pity fuck.”

“You were wearing blue the first time I met you,” Mat whispers, his lips ghosting overs, “I remember that because the first time I saw you I walked over to flirt with you and then Tito introduced us.”

You smile at the memory, the light blue top you were wearing was one of your favorites. It was the end of the summer, and you were holding onto the last few moments of warm weather before fall hit New York. Zoe dragged you out that night, insisting you met her new boyfriend and a few of his friends. You remember meeting Mat that night, but you didn’t know what his actual intentions in talking to you were, “Why didn’t you do anything about it?”

“Tito really likes Zoe, I didn’t want to make things weird,” Mat laughs, his eyes flicking down to your lips that were barely an inch away from his. You lean forward, throwing caution to the win and placing your lips on Mat’s. He smiled against your lips, grabbing your thighs and wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Please make me cum,” You breathe out, leaving a trail of kisses down Mat’s jaw while you directed him to your bedroom. He drops you on the bed, pulling his hoodie off and tossing it aside. You bit your lip, eyes raking over every muscle on Mat’s body that was drool worthy.

“You can stop me whenever you want,” Mat assures you, climbing on top of you and pulling you in for a kiss. Mat bit down on your lip gently, smirking when he heard a moan slip through your lips, “I could kiss you all day.”

“I assumed you’d get to it by now,” You admit, knowing everyone man you’d ever been with would have thrown foreplay out the door by now. Mat laughed against your neck, taking a break from the mark he was intent on leaving.

“This is why you’ve never had an orgasm,” Mat chuckles, picking his head up to look you in the eyes, “I’m taking my time with you.”

You smile, pulling Mat back down by his chain to meet his lips to yours. Mat’s hand snuck under your shirt, waiting for you to nod and give him permission before he tossed the t-shirt behind him, groaning when he realized you weren’t wearing anything underneath it. Mat pressed a kiss to your neck, making his way down between yours breasts. His tongue swirled your nipple, hands moving down your body to pull your shorts off. You arch your back, letting out a whimper when you felt Mat’s teeth against your skin. Mat kissed down your body, stopping when his lips hit just above your panties. He looked up at you, waiting for the green light to take them off.

“Go ahead Mat,” You breathe out, the anticipation practically killing you. Mat slipped his fingers under your panties, sliding them down your legs and throwing them to the side. He presses a few kisses to the inside of your thighs. You bite your lip, the sight of anyone between your thighs was new, let alone Mat. A whimper left your mouth when you felt Mat’s lips just above your clit, hot breath fanning over your pussy.

“You’re sure about this babe?” Mat asks one more time, a cautious tone to his phone. Something in your gut told you he was never this gentle, but the way he was handling you was just too sweet. You nod, watching while Mat flicked your clit gently, afraid if he went too hard too fast you’d either go into shock or you’d be too turned off to get you there. His tongue went flat, licking a stripe down your folds and teasing your entrance. Your hands landed in Mat’s hair, pulling on them gently while a moan slipped through your lips, “You like that?”

“Yes,” You whimper, a feeling you couldn’t quite describe overtaking your body. Sex never felt this good, because no one you’d ever been was bothered to pay attention to your body. Mat smirks, clearly pleased with himself for figuring out exactly what made you tick. He tossed your thighs over his shoulders, his tongue moving faster on your pussy while his nose was rubbing against your clit. You could feel it, the build up from pleasure while your moans became the only sound in your bedroom, “Mat, fuck, I think I’m going to-”

You didn’t even finish your sentence before your legs began to shake as your orgasm took over your body. Mat was gentle, his mouth still on you while you rode out your high, but not enough to overstimulate you just yet. You laid there for a minute, Mat pressing kisses into your stomach while you caught your breath. Even you could read the smile on his face, one that was clearly satisfied with the victory of finally getting you to cum, “You did so good baby.”

You could feel the heat rush to your cheeks at Mat’s praise, something you were quickly learning you really loved to hear, “Do it again.”

Mat smiles against your skin, a light laugh leaving his lips, “How?”

“With your fingers,” You whisper, biting your lip and looking down at Mat’s hands that were still wrapped around your thighs. Mat nods, freeing his grip on your thighs with one hand and letting his finger trace your folds, collecting the cum from the first time. He swipes it with his finger, sucking your cum right off it.

“You taste so fucking good,” Mat admits, and you let a breathy moan as a response. Mat’s eyebrows raise, “Do you like when I praise you?”

You nod quickly, pulling Mat up to meet your lips. Mat kisses were slow, but his finger that was slipping in you wasn’t. His thumb circled your clit while he caught your moans with his mouth, “Two.”

“Give a girl one orgasm and she’s already this demanding,” Mat jokes, tucking his head into your neck while he slipped another one of his long fingers in your, “You’re taking my fingers so well princess.”

“I’m going to cum again Mat,” You moan, your hips lifting off your mattress while Mat’s fingers move relentlessly in and out of you. Your hips sputtered, your legs shaking at the pleasure of your high. Mat finally slips them out, pressing a kiss to your forehead with a muttered good girl that left a chill up your spine. You looked down, the bulge in Mat’s gray sweats was prominent, a part of you almost felt guilty for leaving him high and dry like that, “Mat let me-”

“No,” Mat grabs your hand, entwining it with his and pulling it up to his mouth, “You don’t owe me anything.”

“What if I want you to fuck me?” You bat your eyelashes, trying to muster up the sexiest face you could while Mat’s brain short circuited from your question.

“You don’t have to get me off,” Mat makes his point clear, driving home the whole notion that he doesn’t want to push you into an uncomfortable situation, “I can do it myself and-”

Your free hand makes it way down Mat’s chest, running your fingers over his abs and stopping at the waistband on his sweats, “Mat Barzal I want you to fuck me.”

“Fuck,” Mat breathes out, watching you pull down his sweats and boxers in one motion, his cock springing freely from his pants. He’d been turned on from the moment he stepped in your bedroom, the idea of getting you off for the first time was just too hot for him to handle. You pumped his cock a few times, letting the precum on his dick spread. You rolled over, opening your drawer and fishing for a condom that you were thanking your lucky stars was actually in there. Mat grabs it, ripping the plastic open and rolling the condom onto his dick while you lightly rubbed your clit in anticipation, “You look so fucking perfect right now.”

“Mat please,” You whimper, a bold statement considering you’d never been one to be vocal in the bedroom about anything. Mat rubbed the head of his cock against you, slowly entering you.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Mat groans, the feeling of your pussy around his cock lived in his wildest fantasies, ones that he stored in the back of his mind so he could get through hanging out with you without getting a boner. Mat bottomed out, giving you a few minutes to adjust to how big he was. You whispered a small go against his shoulder, your lips against his skin while Mat pulled his hips back and started a slow pace in you. You gripped his shoulders, digging your nails into the muscles on his back. Mat looked down at you, pushing your hair out of your face and pressing his lips against your forehead, “I think my cock was made for you babe.”

“Harder Mat,” You moan, the same feeling you got the first two times building up inside of you. Mat took the hint, his hand snaking down your body and rubbing his thumb against your clit while he picked up his own pace. Your pussy flutters around him, and you ride out of your high while Mat tries to chase his own. His movements became erratic and with a loud groan he spilled into the condom.

The room was quiet, Mat laying on top of you while you both tried to catch your breath. You traced your finger down Mat’s back, “That was something.”

“Glad I could be your first, second, and third orgasm,” Mat chuckles, finally slipping out of you and tossing the condom in the garbage. He disappeared for a moment, coming back with a warm towel to clean you up. You winced at the contact, “I know you’re still sensitive babe but you’ve got to let me take care of you.”

Mat’s words were gentle, followed by a kiss on the inside of your thigh before he got up to collect his clothes that were thrown across your room, “I don’t want to go but-”

“I know Barz,” You laugh, knowing full well he had a morning skate the next day that if he was late for Trotz would have his ass, “You don’t have to explain yourself.”

“Listen, next time you're out with someone I can send him notes on how to get you off,” Mat jokes, throwing his hoodie back on and pressing a kiss to your forehead, “Or we can save the middleman and you can let me take you out.”

“Well I guess cutting out the middleman would be best,” You giggle, feeling Mat’s lips turn into a smile.

“So Saturday?”

“It’s a date Barz.”

#mat barzal imagine #mat barzal #this is just smut i regret nothing #nhl imagine

593 notes · View notes

mrkcore · 3 years

Text

𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 - 𝐧.𝐣𝐦

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: na jaemin x f!reader

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: jaemin as DC’s nightwing/dick greyson, hero!jaemin

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you’re the one picking him up, piece by piece, even when you’re gone.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, fluff

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): profanity, character deaths, blood, gun use

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.3k (woopwoop!)

𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨: ghost of you - 5sos, lie to me - 5sos, woke up in japan - 5sos, want you back - 5sos, more - 5sos, better man - 5sos, moving along - 5sos, thin white lies - 5sos, red desert - 5sos, lonely heart - 5sos, high - 5sos (just me being 5 seconds of summer trash)

𝐚/𝐧: part of @nct-writers collab, the heartbreak hotel (this is probably the longest fic i’m ever going to write, so pls gimmie feedback i will love you forever)

“imagine you're watching a runaway trolley barreling down the tracks straight towards five workers who you do not know and can't escape. you happen to be standing next to a switch that will divert the trolley onto a second track. here's the problem. that track has a worker on it, too, just one, but they’re not a stranger. what do you do? do you sacrifice that one person to save five?”

jaemin regrets being the hero in the story.

jaemin regrets everything.

he constantly ponders the situation playing out where he wasn’t the protagonist. people have always said, “a hero would sacrifice you to save the planet, but a villain would sacrifice the planet to save you”. jaemin always thought that was bullshit, but now he knows the despairing truth.

he regrets, he regrets, he regrets. but regret won’t bring you back.

you seemed so sure when you told him to let you go and it’d be okay, it wasn’t his fault. how was it so easy for you to think and say that? not his fault? he was basically the reason you’re dead. he just found you after so many years, now you’re gone again; but this time, it’s for real, forever.

jaemin remembers the cold tiny room he was forced to sleep in with the other children in the circus.

it was a nightmare every single day. with kids screaming, singing, laughing, and running around the room, nobody could get any sleep. what made it worse was that jaemin had no one to talk to.

none of the other boys liked him, being handsome, dubbed the “face of haly’s circus”, always talking behind your back how the boss always favoured him because he was bringing so many more views in. girls swarming around jaemin ever since him and his parents ever joined, it was so obvious that he was the most popular. jaemin never liked the attention, he was only trying to survive after all.

then, you arrived.

y/n, the confounding witch, they called you.

conjuring up little tricks for audience members, brewing up drinks to transform participants into different species of animals, and controlling birds in cages were only a few acts you could do.

the first day boss introduced you to everyone, you seemed so bright and excited to be joining. your unique eye smile, bubbly personality, and caring nature drew jaemin to you. he’s seldomly trying to calm the younger kids down so everyone can rest, but your patience and compassion towards the kids were something they weren’t used to, and eventually caved in.

soon, it became quieter in that god awful room jaemin always dreaded. but jaemin's heart beat louder in his chest than ever.

jaemin was never one to show off. like we established before, the attention jaemin got was not appreciated by him. except, it became different when you arrived.

he was constantly trying to impress you, sway you, hoping the things he did for the crowds of girls that rushed to buy tickets to see him, would work for you too.

however, that was just his wishful thinking.

you were unlike any of the interactions jaemin had with the opposite gender. you were confident, yet humble, witty, intelligent, and easy-going. he is constantly flustered whenever he is engaging in a conversation with you, but tries to act nonchalant whenever he knows you’re nearby.

after shows, girls screamed and bolted towards the entrance where jaemin stood for exit duty, to say goodbye to patrons. he’d always try to be paired with you for it, trying to make you jealous.

but of course that never happened. jaemin would always be trampled by his enthusiastic female supporters, as surges of them stopped to interact with him. flirting with them all at the same time, they all swooned over your charms. he’d always see you giggle, laughing at his bursts of confidence he’d never have with you by yourselves.

this continued for a year, until one day, you let something slip.

“ladies, ladies, i’m so glad you could join us for today.” jaemin smiled at the groups in front of him, glancing at you walking an elderly couple out of the tent. “make sure to take good care of yourselves, wouldn’t want anything happening to any of you sweet gals.” and cue the squeals.

“hope you had fun pretty boy.” you directed to him calmly, as you walked back into the circus. jaemin’s head snapped to stare at your back. he’s stunned, did you just call him a “pretty boy”?

remembering that the crowd in front of him was still there, he reacted quickly.

“i guess it’s time for me to go, i’ll catch you lovely girls at my next show, i hope.” he leaves with a wink, following your path straight towards you.

finding you in your little assigned room, jaemin barged in, gaze fixated right on you, not even thinking what to say.

“oh, jaemin, hey.” you say, not even batting an eye, you’re focused on the book in your hands. “what’s up?”

“you called me pretty boy.” he breathed out.

“yeah i did,” you’re still not paying attention to him. “what about it?”

“you think i’m pretty?” jaemin is suddenly very close to you, his hand caressing your face, lifting your line of sight up to meet his gaze.

his eyes are sparkling, cheeks a slight tint of pink, with a look of determination. of course you thought he was pretty, anyone who said otherwise would either be lying, or have never seen his gorgeous face.

jaemin must’ve been acting impulsively, because when he realized how close he was to your face, he immediately pulled back.

“i am so sorry,” he says in disbelief. “i don’t know what came over me.”

“it’s okay,” you smile at him, grabbing his hand to where it was before. “i liked it.”

jaemin is flustered again, standing completely frozen as he admires your face up close.

you’re breathtakingly beautiful. he’s known that you were attractive, but this just created even more butterflies in his stomach.

“and yes, i do think you’re pretty.” you wink at him.

and that’s where it started.

you and jaemin started spending time together more.

jaemin was still a bit nervous and frenzied at the beginning, but that melted away, and his flirty, outgoing, and annoyingly confident side was revealed to you.

you were also quite popular amongst the other boys in the circus, so when you two were seen more frequently together, they started spreading rumours about jaemin to get you two away from each other.

“oh jaemin’s just trying to use them.”

“jaemin thinks after getting with them, he’s going to cross all of the names off his list.”

“he’s such a player, y’n’s too good for him.”

of course you’d hear them more often than him, the guys would always say these kinds of things around you.

but you know they’re just trying to stir up trouble. so you ignore them.

just like how jaemin ignores the talk about you amongst his female supporters.

“she’s trying to take him away from us.”

“he’s not as happy anymore.”

“she thinks she’s all that, he’s probably just a new notch in her belt.”

of course jaemin would never listen to them. they’d never know about the secrets you had together, sneaking out of your rooms and sitting on the roof at night stargazing, your note exchanging, late night talks; they knew none of that.

“i wish things weren’t like this,” you sighed, leaning on his shoulder as you two look at the early sunrise. “i wish we could be free and do whatever we want. this is so unfair.”

jaemin has never really thought about that. every day, his head was flooded with you. but now he thinks about it, it truly was unfair.

jaemin wishes he could take you on on real dates, take you on meaningful trips to explore the rest of the world. not hidden in this awful place where you could barely talk to each other in public. jaemin wishes he could give you more.

“it’s not your fault nana,” you look up at him like you’ve read his mind and know he’s overthinking. “there’s nothing you can do.”

“yeah,” jaemin exhales. “i know.” he tries to smile when you reach up to caress his face, you look at him with so much fondness, jaemin’s worries are almost all blown away. but you know he’s going to be pondering about this for the next week.

“maybe this just how it’s meant to be, our wicked fate.”

but all the gossip got to the point where the boss heard about it, and asked you guys to talk in his office.

“i think we should end it here.” you say one night on the roof, seemingly out of the blue.

“what?” jaemin is speechless, where did that come from? did he hear you wrong?

“he literally asked us to talk,” you’re facing the ground, not even daring to look at him. “it’s serious this time.”

“so you’re going to just throw all of this away?” jaemin asks, slightly furious. “just because of what a bunch of losers are saying?”

“it’s for the best,” you’re still not looking at him. “for the both of us.”

when you finally do look up to see jaemin’s reaction, you see tears in his eyes and you wish you hadn’t looked up.

“fine, if that’s what you want.” jaemin turns around and walks away, breaking that silence.

but what jaemin didn’t know was that it broke your heart to pieces. it took you so much courage to break it off with him, but in the end, you knew what boss haly was capable of. you needed to protect him, so if this is how it needed to go, it’s for the best.

the meeting the next day went smoothly, it was easy for both of you to deny everything since jaemin was giving you the cold shoulder. you didn’t need to pretend. it was for the sake of the both of you.

after the meeting, you didn’t get the chance to talk to jaemin as he rushed to get ready for his special act today. but it’s not like he would listen to you anyways, you couldn’t blame him.

you felt the aura of the circus today, it felt off. very off.

maybe it was because you were so shaken by you and jaemin's fight. maybe it was nothing, and you were just overreacting. everything was probably fine.

except it wasn’t.

as all of the spectators settled into their seats, when you tried to peak through the curtain to see the turnout, and as expected, it was packed.

but something catches your eye. a black raven flies in, the ambience in the tent suddenly changes so fast if gives you whiplash. this isn’t good. this isn’t good at all. something bad is going to happen, really bad.

you’ve never seen that bird in your entire life, and it suddenly hits you.

someone is going to die tonight.

you pray and pray it’s going to be fine, but the unsettling energy gets to you. you need to tell someone.

“jaemin, jaemin!” you call out to him. he turns around, but when he sees you, his face turns sour. your heart sinks, but what you’re about to tell him is more important, so you brush it away.

“what do you want.” he snarls, you gulp back a sob.

“something bad’s going to happen, i can feel it.” tears are threatening to spill out of you eyes. “someone’s going to die, and i don’t know what to do.”

“oh, so now you care?” jaemin rolls his eyes. “are you jealous that it’s my show tonight and all of those girls front row are here to see me and think they have a chance with me?” you’re shocked by his words, your eyes are wide. you never thought he was capable of saying something like that. “you’re just a little witch, and it’s all just an act. let it go.” tears stream down your face as jaemin huffs and walks away, strutting into the crowd as the ringmaster announces their act: “the flying greysons!”.

and jaemin was wrong. you were right. something awful happened that day.

jaemin watches helplessly as his parents’ high wires snaps and they pummel to their death.

you were right. and he couldn’t do anything about it.

jaemin runs away that night as he leaves you in that horrible place by yourself, and you never see him again.

and here jaemin is. 10 years after the incident, a college student by day, leader of a crime fighting superhero team by night.

after the incident of his parents’ death, mr. jung jaehyun finds him on his path. crying, sobbing, and vulnerable. jaehyun takes jaemin in under his wing. providing him shelter, food, and as much support as he could. jaemin slowly realized jaehyun’s second identity: batman.

jaemin has heard of jaehyun’s street name. but he’d never thought that he’d meet him in real life, and batman would be someone so similar to him. jaehyun saw a reflection of his younger self, the grief of losing your parents, the reality check of the world being a cruel place at a young age, he didn’t want jaemin to spiral in the same way he did.

so even though jaemin lived a life of normalcy, his past never stopped coming back to haunt him.

especially you.

jaehyun dug up some information about the circus, and piles and piles of their dark secrets were revealed. so did the truth of jaemin’s parents’ deaths too. how a well-known and feared crime-lord, threatened the circus unless the owner paid extortion money. boss haly refused, and that night someone messed with the equipment for the performance, resulting in the catastrophe.

you were right all along, and jaemin didn’t listen to you. it was his fault, everything was his fault.

he even left you there by yourself, all alone, and he never got to say goodbye. oh how wishes he could see you one last time, and say all those things he wanted to these years.

nightmares woke him throughout elementary school, middle school, high school, and even sometimes during his college time.

the same dream over and over, you reaching your hand out for jaemin to grab and save, but he’s too far away. and you fade away.

inspired by what jaehyun did to help him, jaemin started to do the same.

with a bunch of lost and uncared for young kids in new york, jaemin took them under his wing like jaehyun did with him.

with help from trusted individuals he met on the street, mark, renjun, jeno, and haechan, they started to take care of chenle and jisung full time. getting them off the street, given proper shelter, food, water, clean clothes, and access to education, this was the start of the dreamies.

today was the same as any other.

jaemin’s philosophy and law studies class has just finished up and he’s walking to his favourite cafe to finish up some work.

“jaemin?” he hears a familiar voice behind him.

he turns around and sees you. you haven’t changed a bit, still as homely and comforting as he can remember.

is he in a dream right now? how is this possible?

“oh gosh, it really is you.” you laughed, the same laugh you had. jaemin feels this unknown warmth and reassurance with you here, like a weight has just been lifted off his shoulders.

“y/n.” he finally speaks. your eyes glimmer, looking at him affectionately.

“yep, right here in the flesh.” jaemin starts tearing up. “oh you big baby, why are you crying?”

jaemin pulls you in as he hugs your waist.

surprised by his emotional state, you were going to speak up again. but you choose not to. standing there, a bit awkwardly, stroking his soft hair, embracing him.

and you’re back.

jaemin learns that you recently moved to new york city recently for your journalist job position, and you’re looking for a place to move in to.

he’s quick to offer his place, even though he’s still in college, his apartment is big enough for two people.

“are you sure?” you’re hesitant to accept his suggestion. “i don't want to be a big burden. you’re probably really busy as a student.”

“no, i’m fine.” he responds, enthusiastically. “my schedule is pretty much free since i’m third year now.”

and you accept. saying you’re only going to crash for a while until you found another place.

cherishing the time you had together, during the day, jaemin went to his lectures while you went to work, but when you got home, you did everything together. to the point where jaemin barely saw the dreamies, his crime-fighting crew.

staying up to watch the stars and sunrise, talking and laughing until your eyes were threatening to close. conversing about literally anything.

but as time went by, you noticed that jaemin didn’t really want to talk about what happened back at the circus. you understood since he lost his parents that night, but he never asked you about how you left and ended up in new york. but you don’t push it, you understand that it’s a rough patch in both of you guys’ lives.

“do you have anything that you regret?” you ask one night, you truly were just curious.

“not listening to you that night.” he says, monotone. “and leaving you by yourself at the circus when i ran away.”

“jaemin…” you start, but no words leave your mouth.

“fuck!” jaemin abruptly exclaims, mood crashing, turning furious. “it’s all that bastard haly’s fault.”

you shouldn’t have asked.

“if he didn’t make that fucking circus, everything would have been fine! it’s his fault, all his fault, i’m going to get revenge and kill that son-of-a-bitch one day!” he’s yelling now. “we could have met in normal circumstances, we could’ve gotten married, created a family, enjoyed life like all of these snarky city folk. why?”

you wipe the tears that are rolling down his face as he turns to cry in your chest.

“i’m sorry i brought this up.” you pat his head as his sobs turn into soft snores, head in your lap. “maybe this just how it’s meant to be, our cruel fate.”

it’s been a year now. it doesn’t seem like you’re moving out anytime soon, but jaemin’s not complaining. he loves having you here, you’ve become a standard part of his day.

with jaemin more adapted to your appearance, he has started to become more involved with the dreamies.

helping 10-15 kids each month, the squad has advanced to milestones jaemin never thought it’d be at. he is so thankful to have the group and you there supporting him.

you’ve even discussed marriage.

“y/n na has a nice ring to it, y’know.” jaemin beams.

“you’re such a softie.” you giggle out, but jaemin knows you like it.

jaemin knows you want to wait until you have a stable job and when he graduates, but the thought always makes him elated.

“what song would you play for our first dance at out wedding?” he asked one morning, waking up to the sun shining heavenly on you.

“hmm,” you grin. “best part, daniel caesar, h.e.r.”

“you’re perfect.” jaemin kisses your face as you cuddle into his warm chest.

imagining you in a white dress, walking up to the alter on your wedding day, saying your vows, slow dancing. you’re the only person jaemin has visioned a future with, and the only person jaemin wants a future with.

the next day, you agree to slow dance with him in the living room.

jaemin is on cloud nine.

but like the old saying, all good things must come to an end.

it’s been 5 years now.

jaemin comes home one night to the apartment door open, which is really unusual.

jaemin thinks it might be a robbery, but nothing is stolen, the apartment looked the same as it was when he left this morning.

but you’re nowhere to be found. jaemin isn’t panicked, maybe you went on a walk and forgot to close the door–

there’s a note on the dining room table.

“meet me on the top of the empire state building to see y/n, if you bring someone else, it’ll be for the last time.”

what is that supposed to mean?

was it one of the dreamies’ past enemies trying to get back at them?

nonetheless, jaemin is bolting out the door.

when he gets there, he sees the dreamies tied up, sitting and struggling at the feet of someone jaemin never thought he’d see ever again. c.c. haly, the owner of haly’s circus jaemin escaped a whole decade ago.

haly smirks as he sees jaemin approaching, but jaemin is scowling.

“what are you doing here?” jaemin snaps out, carefully advancing.

“i’m here to finish what you started.” haly says.

“how did you even find me?” jaemin snarls, stopping a fair distance between him and haly. “how did you find my friends?”

unexpectedly, haly starts to cackle loudly at his questions. turning around to reveal someone who has been absent, someone jaemin would never have thought of.

you.

jaemin’s mind is internally crashing. why are you with haly? what is going on?

“y/n, do you want to explain to our dear jaemin here what’s going on?” haly finds so much amusement playing with you both, watching this event unfold.

“jaemin, i’m so sorry.” your lips are trembling, tears are starting to flood your vision.

“so it was all a lie?” jaemin can’t believe it. “everything that happened this year, it was just you building up to just stab me in the back?”

“i did it to protect you.” you’re sobbing hard now.

“save it.” jaemin cuts you off, now focusing on haly. “what do you want.”

“i want you dead.” haly says, blankly.

“so what’s the deal.” the dreamies’ mouths were duct taped, but their muffled cries can still be heard.

haly is howling again.

“i get to kill you,” haly grins sinisterly. “and i let y/n and your little friends free.”

“if jaemin says yes, let me say one last thing to him.” your crying has stopped. “it’s the least you can do.”

jaemin is confused. are you just offering him up to haly with no fight? what are you thinking?

you look at him with pleading eyes, asking him to trust you.

the same eyes he saw that day his parents died, and he knows to trust you.

“okay,” jaemin states boldly. “i say yes. now let y/n talk to me.”

haly is stunned. how did you convince jaemin to agree so quick? maybe haly was right to use you this time. the least he could do is to let jaemin and you have time to still pretend to be in love. so haly allows you to walk up to jaemin to talk.

“y/n, what are you doing.” jaemin whispers frantically.

“trust me, trust me this time.” you glance at him with weary eyes. “when i’m walking back to haly, when i signal to you, i want you to grab your friends and run. can you do that for me?”

“what?” jaemin tries not to react to much that haly catches on, but do you hear what you’re suggesting? “you want me to just leave you here again?”

“jaemin listen to me, i’ll be fine. trust me.”

and you turn around, not letting jaemin respond.

there’s nothing he can do but go along with your plan.

and when you signal to him behind your back, jaemin grabs the dreamies and drags them away. everything is a whirlwind and happens in a flash. jaemin looks back and you’re struggling trying to get the gun out of haly’s hand.

you notice jaemin stopping.

“jaemin, fucking RUN.” you scream at him.

there’s nothing he can do. and he hates himself that he got himself in this situation again. so he runs again, like the coward he is.

jaemin runs, because literally the dreamies’ lives are depending on him. when he gets them to safety, when he unties jeno, jeno pushes him towards where they came from.

“go.” jeno is huffing trying to catch his breath after removing the duct tape off his mouth. “i’ll untie everyone else, go get her.”

jaemin looks at jeno, and turns back for you.

when jaemin arrives back at the scene, you’re on the ground. he runs panic-stricken to you, finding you bleeding out really hard.

“y/n? y/n, y/n please, are you okay?” he’s shaking you, distraught seeing you in this state.

“jaemin, i’m okay.” you say, barely any breath left in you. “i have the gun here, haly is behind the big box over there.”

“y/n, what are you talking about, we need to get you to the hospital.” jaemin tries to pick you up but you don’t allow him.

“use the gun and kill him.” you mutter out, quieter than before. “it’s what you wanted, jaemin. and he’ll be gone.” you’re smiling softly just thinking about it.

“y/n, are you insane? you’re going to die i could care less about haly, i’m taking you to the hospital–”

“jaemin let me go.” you mumble, stroking his cheek while you’re examining his pretty face for the last time. “it’ll be okay, it’s not your fault.”

“y/n…” jaemin’s tears are staining his shirt as he holds you tightly, trying to preserve your life.

“i love you, na jaemin.” a tear falls from your dazed gaze and trickles down your cold face. “i’m sorry that this is how it’s meant to be, our cruel fate.”

and you’re gone.

jaemin screams. tears dripping down his face, he picks up the gun beside you and storms towards haly.

he’s basically sitting in a pool of his own blood and has no strength to get up anymore.

“is little greyson here to get revenge for his parents and little witch y/n?” he cackles even in the last moments of his life.

“yeah i am, they didn’t die for you to see another day too.”

haly is laughing sadistically again as if jaemin just told a joke, but the laughter subsides after the bullets fire through haly’s limp body.

and he’s dead too. leaving jaemin alone, again.

it’s been 2 years since you’ve died.

here he is, waking up. still can’t sleep on your side.

he really can’t sleep on your side, because it reminds him of those times where he woke up to your warm embrace, and now it’s desolately cold.

there’s your coffee cup, the lipstick stain fades with time.

he’s saved everything you had, and hasn’t touched anything. he’s also saved everything you shared, your bed, your apartment, everything. he needs those to remind him of those bittersweet memories of you.

when jaemin was going through your stuff, he finds a piece of paper on your work desk.

my dear jaemin,

when you find this, i’m probably going to be gone. but that’s okay, and i’ll tell you why.

first of all, thank you so much for these past 5 years. thank you for showing me what living life is like, what being a part of a family is like, and what being in love is like. you told me you wished you could give me a normal life, and you really fulfilled your wish.

you must have so many questions right now, so i’m going to answer them.

i never left haly’s after you ran away. i couldn’t. because he was threatened by so many mobs and gangs everywhere, he had to kill off the other people that were a part of the circus. but he kept me. because i was the key to you. the government started an investigation into him, and he needed to keep a low-profile, but he still was angry that you didn’t die that night too. so he plotted this for years, and i just had to go along with it.

at first, i only agreed because i wanted to see you. i was young and still naive at the time, thinking that he wanted to see you too. but as i got older, i saw what he was planning. he would kill me in front of you and then take you out as well if i didn’t do as he said, so i kept quiet. i really did this to protect you.

i enjoyed every second being with you. you showed me the meaning of life i heard our patrons talk about. you showed me what true love was when i saw those elderly couples walking together as they look at each other adoringly while telling me they’ve been in love and married for decades. if i could choose to stay with you for a lifetime, i would, i would choose it a million times.

but i thought very long about this, and it truly is the only way.

remember when i asked you if you regretted anything that night? you mentioned how you regretted not listening to me, how you left me alone at the circus. and that’s when i realized, it was indeed our cruel fate.

you feel bad for me. you feel bad that you didn’t listen, you feel bad for leaving me at the circus, but it’s been over a decade. i know with me constantly here, you’re never going to stop feeling guilty, you’d never let the past go. we’re too young, too dumb, to know things like love. but i know better now.

so jaemin, i did what i had to do. the best for the both of us. you got your revenge for your parents, and you’ll stop feeling guilty because i don’t want to hold you back and keep you feeling like this forever.

i’m sorry jaemin i put you through all of this, and reminder that this is not your fault.

my love, nana, truly, truly, truly, thank you for everything. everything, everything, everything.

there wasn’t a single day where i stopped wanting you. i want you in the most innocent form, i want to say goodnight to you and give you forehead kisses and say i love you when you feel at your worst. i want you in ways where i just want to be next to you and nothing more or less. i wish i could explain your eyes, oh how i adore your angel eyes, and how the sound of your voice gives me butterflies. how your smile makes my heart skip a beat and how every time i’m with you, i feel so complete. i swear when our lips touched, i could taste the remaining years of my life. i want you to know that when i picture myself happy, it’s with you.

i’ve looked at you in millions of ways, and i have loved you in every way.

but this is how it’s meant to be, our cruel fate.

my pretty boy, i love you forever.

his tears are ruining the page, and jaemin tries to wipe his tears away to save the letter.

when he turns around, he swears he can see you. and he chases it down, with a shot of truth.

maybe if he dreams long enough, you’d tell him he’d be just fine.

walking into the living room, remembering how you guys would slow dance like it was your wedding. your wedding.

and he drowns it out, like he always does. dancing through your house, with a shot of truth, that his feet don’t dance, like the way they did with you.

jaemin knows your letter was right, he’s going to slowly get better, but he needs some time. meanwhile, he needs something help him cope, to get him by.

so he’s dancing through your house, with the ghost of you.

©mrkcore, 2021.

155 notes · View notes

anxious2dsimp · 3 years

Text

Everything He's Not | Iwaizumi x GN! Reader | Short Fic

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡*✧･ﾟ:˚۰˚☽˚｡･:

Flavour: Angst (Reader x Cheater!Oikawa) to Fluff (Reader x Iwaizumi)💔→☁️

Reader: Gender Neutral!

Format: Short Fic (alternating between two sides of the story, y/n and Iwa's)

Part: 1 out of 2 (read part 2 here)

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: Y/N, has dated the very popular Oikawa Toru for a while, through him becoming friends with his group. However, little do they know about a certain stoic ace's feelings for his best friend's s/o. When Oikawa screws up big time, will Iwaizumi's true feelings finally show? And what will Y/N do when everything goes down?

Warnings: Cheating, cursing, breakups, basically Oikawa x Reader angst turned into Iwaizumi x Reader fluff.

A/N: I wrote this for myself a while back but I edited it into a gender-neutral reader insert on a sleep-deprived whim (sorry if there are any mistakes, feel free to let me know!) Ik it's very random, but hopefully someone likes it :)

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡*✧･ﾟ:˚۰˚☽˚｡･:

Your POV

Dating Oikawa Toru was definitely different from what you expected; at first you were weary about the volleyball star, but after giving him a chance you started to see the real him. Yes, he was the captain of a powerhouse’s Volleyball team and had a ton of fangirls, but really he was just a regular guy with dorky interests and an alien obsession, which was the side of him you fell for. It wasn’t all great, dealing with his fangirls was rough; luckily you were safe being from another school, but they’d take any chance they had to try and gain Oikawa’s interest, flirting with him as he did the same back, not with bad intentions, it was just his personality. It did slightly annoy you, but you knew he was clear that we were together and wouldn’t take things further, he was just keeping up his image, and he promised you that was all.

Since your Karasuno friends didn’t particularly like your relationship with the setter (though they did respect it), you two hung out with his Aoba Johsai friends; that’s how your friendship with Iwa, Makki, and Mattsun started. You all became good friends, so they all helped you keep Oikawa in line while at school (especially Iwaizumi). Since you got along so well your friendship became its own thing besides Oikawa, and before you realized it, you and Iwa were such good friends that you chatted almost daily on the phone.

You don’t know what exactly made you bond so much, maybe you were similar in the sense that you were both used to being lowkey, keeping things together behind the scenes; regardless, you both enjoyed each other’s company. That Tuesday afternoon was one of those days, Oikawa had something to do at school, so Iwaizumi invited you, Makki, and Mattsun over to his place to wait for the captain like you usually did since it was the closest to the school.

So, you just chilled like always, laughing and playing video games, talking about whatever came to mind. While you were in the middle of a Mario Kart match, you heard the front door of the apartment open, “(y/n)-chan! I’m sorry for the delay~” the brunette said in a sing-song voice.

“Hi to you too, Oikawa,” said Makki, poking fun at him, to which he just rolled his eyes and walked over to the couch. “Aren’t you gonna give me a kiss?” Oikawa asked standing in front of the screen, causing all four of you to start yelling at him to get out of the way, making him pout. “One sec, Toru-chan,” you said, biting your lip while focusing on keeping your first place intact for the last lap. The setter just giggled and got out of the way, walking around the sofa to stand behind you.

Iwaizumi’s POV

‘Eyes on the screen Iwaizumi,’ the ace told himself as he tried to focus on the game, attempting to ignore the way Oikawa kissed (y/n)’s neck while they played, trying to get their attention but failing miserably other than a giggle here and there. Iwa could tell by the way their (e/c) colored eyes pierced the screen that they wanted to win. The boy could see why his best friend liked them, unlike most people (y/n) actually treated Oikawa like a normal person, which definitely got him going. It wasn’t just that though, you all became such good friends because they’re smart, funny and beyond kind; but that’s all you were, friends. So why did it make him moody to see them be all couple-y?

After all, they were together while he was just the friend, the one who kept the fangirls off Oikawa so (y/n) didn’t have to worry because he couldn’t do it himself. Even though Toru was Iwaizumi’s best friend since they were kids, he couldn’t help but think that his friend wasn’t the greatest boyfriend. However, that was the same reason why he couldn’t say anything either, after all, they made him happy and vice versa, so he just kept telling himself to keep his damn eyes on the screen.

Luckily for him, the game was soon over so you all ordered takeout and sat around talking. “Yo, (y/n), there’s this new scary movie on Netflix, we should watch it this Friday night,” Mattsun stated, stealing one of Maki’s fries and throwing it in his mouth. “That sounds fun, but I can’t Friday! Karasuno has a friendly match against a few Tokyo schools this weekend so we leave Thursday after school,” (y/n) explained with a sweet smile, Iwaizumi’s eyes casually wondering over to Oikawa to see him looking upset.

‘Ugh, here goes,’ the spiker thought to himself. Lately, Toru had been restless and uncomfortable because according to him, his s/o was slipping away from him. Oikawa had somehow managed to convince himself that Karasuno had made it their mission to get their manager (y/n) to stop liking him and had been getting increasingly dramatic and jealous lately for no reason.

“But I thought we were going to hang out this weekend,” Oikawa whined as he pouted at his significant other, trying to seem jokingly disappointed though his best friend could tell he actually was upset. “Babe, we literally talk every day and we hung out all this past weekend, and today,” (y/n) said taking his hand.

“Plus, you have friends too, Shittykawa,” Hajime said, trying to get his friend’s mind out of that dark place since he knew he was more prone to make stupid comments when it was there. Oikawa didn’t drop it, insisting on how they were talking less as (y/n) continued to explain that school had been busy and how he also had responsibilities that took up his time. They eventually got him to shut up, but Iwaizumi couldn’t shake the concern that he was being too stupid, and it felt like he was getting closer and closer to making a mistake.

Your POV

You had to admit you did feel guilty when you told Toru you were leaving for the weekend, it was true that you had been way too busy with school and that neither of you had much free time, but you knew that your feelings for him were still strong. So, that Thursday after school you were happy and excited to hear that the trip had been postponed and you’d actually travel on Saturday morning because Sensei had a very important meeting on Friday afternoon. With the change of plans, you decided to go surprise your boyfriend, and it already being late in the afternoon, by the time you got to his place he would be home.

As you got off the bus by his place and got closer to his house, the sun beginning to set, a couple by a small park caught your eye, causing a soft smile to appear on your face. That park was always where you two would hang out when you wanted to be just the two of you. Walking closer, however, the smile quickly disappeared as you realized the “couple” was none other than Oikawa himself with one of his persistent fans he told you not to worry about. ‘Maybe they’re just hanging out as friends,’ or at least that’s what you told yourself as you squinted and kept walking.

Picking up your pace you got closer, now being able to see their faces more clearly in the dimly lit park only to watch them kiss, the girl’s arms around his neck while Oikawa’s hand slid up her thigh. You didn’t know what to do, so you just stood there in shock as silent tears began to fall down your face. Almost as if you were in a trance, you reached into your pocket and took out your phone, dialing his number as you saw the brunette react.

He looked down surprised at his phone screen as he scooted apart from the girl and picked up the call as if it was nothing. “Hey beaut-” he started to say before you cut him off, not having the strength to hear his happy tone. “How could you?!” you sobbed angrily into the phone as his face became anxious. “What’s wrong babe?” How could he try to play it off as if he had no idea?

“You lying, cheating, son of a bitch! We’re over,” you yelled angrily, hanging up right as his eyes met yours. You were close enough to see the horrified and heartbroken expression on his face, but before he could say anything you turned around and just ran. Grabbing the straps of your backpack you sprinted back down the streets, your vision blurry with tears as your (h/c) hair was pushed back by the wind. It was only when you were back at the bus station and were sure that Oikawa was nowhere to be seen that you stopped and realized; you didn’t know where to go next.

You could go to your Karasuno friends, but you weren’t in the mood to hear “I told you so” and couldn’t go home to not worry your family. As you sat there and looked at the screen blankly, tears continuing to fill your eyes, a notification appeared. ‘Hey loser, how’s the trip going?’ you read as your eyes looked at Iwa’s name by the message. He was your best shot, you were close and he wouldn’t judge, so without opening your phone again and ignoring all of Oikawa’s calls you jogged over to Iwaizumi’s place.

After ringing the apartment and hiding your teary and now out of breath voice in the intercom, Iwa’s mom buzzed you in, and once you got to his floor you were greeted by Iwaizumi looking concerned, more so once he saw the state you were in. “(y/n), are you ok?” Iwaizumi asked as he walked over to you, hugging you as you hid in his arms and sobbed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know where else to go. It’s Oikawa,” you explained as he nodded and got you inside. He made some tea and brought it with you two to his room, both of you sitting on his bed. “Ok, what did Shittykawa do now?” he asked as he looked up at you and handed over a warm mug. “D- did you know h-he was cheating on me?” you managed to stutter out between sobs, trying to sound collected but being embarrassed by your inability to do so.

“He- wHAT?!” His reaction startled you, and when you looked up from the cup and saw his horrified, furious expression it made you feel less like you were overreacting. “I- the trip got postponed to Saturday morning, so I went to surprise him to his place and saw him in our bench making out with one of his fangirls,” you explained, watching as Iwa’s face became angrier and angrier, realizing how you don’t think you’ve ever seen him like this, “I’m sorry I came to you, I know you’re best friends.”

Iwaizumi’s POV

Seeing them like this was already painful, but learning what Oikawa did was too much, Iwaizumi couldn’t believe how his friend could do this to (y/n). The spiker had never cared when he did stuff like this or worse than this to his fangirls. After all, he thought, they were the ones stupid enough to be blinded by his charm, but he never fathomed Oikawa would be able to do something like that to someone as great as you. “What? Hey, don’t even dare apologize,” he stated firmly as he took both mugs and set them by the bedside table, hugging (y/n) tightly and feeling them snuggle into him as they cried. Seeing them like this killed him. ‘Fuck Oikawa,’ he thought to himself, ‘if before I had stayed out of the way because they were good for each other that’s no longer the case.’

“I’m so sorry he did this to you; I should have stopped him. If I had known I would have, I should have been paying more attention,” the ace rambled into (y/n)’s hair as they cried softly, getting angry at himself before being interrupted by them pushing themselves away from him gently to look up at his face. “Why are you apologizing as if this was your fault? Iwa, he’s the one who’s an asshole, not you,” they stated, wiping a tear from their face.

“Because,” was he really going to say this? Screw it, here goes nothing, he told himself before continuing, “I knew you deserved better than him, but I convinced myself he would be different with you because I saw how good you were to him, and how happy you looked.” (y/n) just looked at him, mouth slightly ajar as they seemed to process what the boy had said. He couldn’t take the silence anymore so to avoid the blush he felt was beginning to appear on his cheeks he asked; “so did you dump him?” They nodded, looking down at their cup of tea as they chuckled and replied; “on the spot, over the phone.”

Iwaizumi chuckled back, releasing some of the nerves; “serves him right.” They smiled weakly at his comment and absentmindedly ran their fingers through their hair, My god were they gorgeous, Hajime thought to himself, only then realizing it was the first time it was just the two of them in his room, suddenly becoming self-conscious. Calm down, he told himself while taking a deep breath, looking over at (y/n). 'They just broke up with their boyfriend, being here with you is their last concern,' or so he thought. “Do you… want to watch (favorite movie) and eat ice cream?” the spiker suggested after thinking for a moment, he knew that was their favorite movie, and ice cream helps get over jerks, right?

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡*✧･ﾟ:˚۰˚☽˚｡･:

#Cassie likes HQ!#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi fanfic #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x gender neutral reader #oikawa angst #oikawa toru x reader #iwaizumi hajime fic #iwaizumi fic #iwaizumi x you

125 notes · View notes

sadclearance · 3 years

Note

u know how denki from bnha asks ochako out for lunch but gets ignored? can he ask male reader out and it seems like he’s getting ignored but at the end y/n flirts with him and is like “your turn now”?

pickup lines

pairing: denki kaminari x male!reader

summary: denki pursues y/n with pickup lines.

category: fluff

warning(s): none

word count: 1153

"do you have a band-aid?" denki kaminari asks y/n out of nowhere after class ends.

"are you hurt?" y/n frowns. they didn't have hero training today, and he's pretty sure nothing as eventful as someone getting injured happened in class.

"because i scraped my knee falling for you," kaminari finishes, smiling at how genuinely concerned y/n was.

"don't worry me like that," y/n rolls his eyes playfully.

kaminari sighs. is that his only response to his pickup line?

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"man, i don't think he's ever gonna like me," kaminari cries.

"stop fucking whining, dunce face!" katsuki bakugo, the ever-so loving friend that he is, shouts at him.

"c'mon, bakugo. our friend's hurting," eijiro kirishima, the genuine angel that he is, frowns, putting a comforting hand on kaminari's shoulder.

"thank you for understanding, kirishima," kaminari lets out a fake sniffle to show how touched he is.

"well, it's not my fucking fault you're a dumbass!"

"how am i a dumbass?" kaminari frowns.

"you're giving up after one stupid ass pickup line? lamest shit i've ever heard."

"bakugo kind of has a point, but i wouldn't call it the 'lamest shit i've ever heard'," kirishima says thoughtfully.

"what? i thought you were on my side," kaminari pouts.

"i was, but you did just start talking to him today," kirishima says.

"but--"

"no fucking excuses! stop bitching about something that you've only just recently grown the balls to start."

"what exactly did you say to him?" hanta sero cuts in, finally done with his homework that kirishima and bakugo had finished together earlier and that kaminari forgot about.

"do you have a band-aid because i scraped my knee falling for you," kaminari mumbles, hiding his face with a pillow.

sero bursting into laughter so intense that he doubles over doesn't help lessen kaminari's embarrassment.

"kaminari," sero wheezes. "y/n's the pretty boy of our entire year. nowadays, his type is super popular, so girls and guys constantly fall for him. you're gonna need to up your game."

"sero's right," kirishima nods, carefully considering the facts laid out before him.

"siding with the enemy again, kirishima?" kaminari whines.

"well, y/n's been getting really popular. the girls might even be more into him than they are todoroki right now."

"and that's exactly why one pathetic pickup line isn't gonna have him falling at your fucking feet," bakugo rolls his eyes.

that's how kaminari set a goal to flirt with y/n at least once a day. hell, he even got a notebook to keep track.

when bakugo, kirishima, and sero first found out about said notebook, they burst out laughing.

after the first few days, they realized that kaminari was serious about it. he was filling it out more diligently than he did his homework.

"this is why you're failing all your classes, fuckhead," bakugo scoffed.

then, on the sixth day they decided to actually read what was inside.

day 1: line: "did it hurt when you fell? fell from heaven?" y/n's reaction: this is the second time he has taken the pickup line for its literal meaning, which is saying a lot because it's only the second time i've used one on him. when i said the second part, he responded playfully. was the playfulness him flirting back? what does it mean???

day 2: line: "you looked super cool during practice today" y/n's reaction: "thanks, you too" okay, first off, i know he was lying. i short circuited and looked like a total loser. second, i think i was too casual. that doesn't even count as flirting. that's like what kirishima would say to bakugo. unless if that's him flirting with explodo-boy?? i can't really tell sometimes

day 3: line: "even covered in sweat, you're the prettiest." y/n's reaction: he just rolled his eyes with another playful smile well, don't blame me! i got nervous, and the day was ending. i needed to make up something! one line a day, and i'm not about to mess it up on the third day

day 4: line: "you're really hot"

y/n's reaction: he lightly punched my shoulder like a bro would do :( okay, i know it was just a blunt statement of fact, but it still counts as flirting right?

day 5: line: "wanna grab a bite some time?" y/n's reaction: "since uraraka-chan's rejected you, i'm the replacement?" he was smiling and rolling his eyes again! my first time trying to ask him on a date and he says no. also why does he keep rolling his eyes :( and he's so not the replacement! i asked her to lunch like a whole week ago

day 6: line: "do you have a map? i keep getting lost in your eyes" y/n's reaction: he rolled his eyes again! what the heck?? :( also, this whole not giving up thing is taking a toll on me. rejection hurts

"if you think 'you looked super cool during practice today' is flirting, i--" sero starts.

"i know, i know!" kaminari interrupts with a deep frown. "and why're you looking through that?!"

"what are you, shitty deku?" bakugo asks with a (shocking) lack of volume. he's too stunned by the amount of genuine effort that kaminari's putting into this, albeit weird.

"what?" kaminari's frown deepens if possible. what's he talking about?

"the notebook," sero says, pointing at it as though it were obvious.

"just because i have a notebook doesn't mean i'm midoriya."

"yeah, but obsessively writing details in it is weird," sero points out.

"don't be so mean, guys," kirishima cuts in. kaminari's about to thank him before he continues to say, "maybe it'll help him practice writing letters that we can actually read."

"my handwriting's great, thank you," kaminari defends with a huff.

"now that kirishima mentions it, you write better notes for this than you do for class," sero says, amazed.

"whatever," kaminari groans. "do you guys think i should give up? he's already rejected me."

"he didn't exactly reject you. he just... avoided the question," kirishima says with a pitying smile as he points at day five in his notes.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

the end of the seventh day is approaching, and kaminari can't think of anything anymore. he thinks that maybe he should give up. y/n hasn't been reciprocating, so maybe he just doesn't see kaminari that way.

with those thoughts haunting him, he decides to leave it be.

he sits at his desk as the class is dismissed for the day, defeatedly staring at his notebook.

he's about to stand up and shuffle out of the classroom like most of the other students are when he feels a presence next to him.

"if i sat on your lap, would that make you an electric chair?" y/n asks with a coy smile.

"what--" kaminari blushes a bright red at his words.

"didn't want you to miss a day in your log," y/n winks as he points at the notebook.

"you knew about--?"

"your move, pikachu," y/n presses soft lips against a red cheek before waving goodbye.

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

a/n;

ahhh idk if it's bad or not but i hope it's okay anon!

#kaminari denki #denki kaminari #bnha #boku no hero x reader #boku no hero academia #x male reader #denki kaminari x male reader #kaminari denki x male reader #idk how to tag sorry #male reader insert #fluff #mlm

280 notes · View notes

mihorapendeja · 3 years

Text

happier than ever | tsukishima x you

the one shot in which tsukishima basically falls for a female version of everyone's favorite sunny tangerine.

genre: fluff/soft core smut lmao i haven't done this in years i feel silly but here you go

pairing(s): kei tsukishima x you (referred to as "ria kihira" in part 1 bc this was originally going to be an OC thing but nvm a/n's: show this some love and interaction pls.

PART 1: THE PAST

❝Again?❞ Even though Tsukishima complained again, this time he made it easier for her as he even stood completely still. Such a good boy.

❝Let her beat your face!❞ Shoyo exclaimed as she smiled in delight, then moving on to pat the powder puff on his stupid face. Of course she only took a few seconds for him, but all the time in the world for Hinata.

While the two chirped about the new reboot trailer for Dexter, Kuroo's sleazy self slid beside his lanky child with an extra smug look on his face. That man was a menace.

❝Say, don't you think they look related?❞

Tsukishima was a difficult man to catch off guard, but right then and there, a mini existential crisis kicked in. His eyes darted back and forth between Shoyo and Ria Kihira, the makeup artist on set for the commercial filming day.

Kei knew Kuroo was a slut for all the pretty things in life — he constantly had a trope of hot women surrounding him.

But this time, he'd really outdone himself.

Not a stupid man entirely, a huge shit-eating grin formed on Tetsuro's face. He followed Kei's eyes who desperately wandered back and forth their matching hair, skin tone, lack of height... "please let it be a mere coincidence because it's bad enough that—" Kei shut his own intrusive mind from further thinking as he slapped his hand over Kuroo's mouth shut. Tight.

That hyena laugh was not being unleashed today.

THE STORY OF HOW YOU MET:

ca. 2019, on set of a commercial for one of Kuroo's production companies. After Tetsuro had defeated Kei in a game of beer pong, he had to comply with the loser's bet -- be part of the damn commercial along with Shoyo, for a viewership boost. So he said. Ria was the makeup artist on set that day, and it pretty much went from Tsuki acting like a feral cat who didn't want to be touched by any makeup tools, to blissfully passing out in a chair while she gently stroked his face with a soft powder brush.

Near the end of the day when he'd no longer back away from her with animosity, it was Kuroo's stupidly astute observation that left him rattled. The boy was put into a choke hold because he refused to like someone with the same orange hair and milky skin tone as Hinata. Someone equally bright, bubbly, and stupid ... yeah that refusal didn't last long. Ria spoke her mind so freely, being direct but never pleading because she respected herself in that regard. He liked that and before Kei knew it, he found himself admitting to her that he was, "actually quite fond of you." She understood it was his way of saying those pesky 3 words, 8 letters.

PART 2: THE PRESENT, 3 YEARS LATER.

THE ALARM CLOCK rang it’s deathly siren like tone, nearly sending you into cardiac arrest. Although he defensively stretched an arm out over your chest as if ready to protect, Kei did not get up.

Of course he wouldn't.

Like every morning at 4am, it was you who suffered the most when getting out of bed to grab the phone to silence that torture down. As you had deeply sighed and turned to face the bed, Tssuki was now face up with the covers all the way up to his nose.

Even in your groggy state, you could tell he was smirking. That smug bastard stared at you intently, dead still. While Kei typically minded his own business and was at times thought of as quiet, the boy was definitely not shy. You wouldn't call him a total flirt, but he could so hold onto a gaze without so little as batting a long eyelash.

Kei was, extremely competitive. Lightning would have to strike his literal eyes to keep them from staring at you, specifically at your curvy thighs.

The way your soft cotton shorts rode up them was always a very pleasant sight, so he just kept staring, happily.

He loved that little penguin walk you busted into every morning when shutting the alarm off.

It’s like you couldn’t balance properly, and he swore that you were always shorter looking in the early hours of the day. He didn’t know how you could lack more height than you already did at barely 5 feet 2, but it always seemed that way.

It was especially cute, like he could just grab you and keep you in the palm of his hand.

Tired, you sat back down on the bed. You scooted until meeting the headboard, and then just let her head dip back.

It was so incredibly peaceful until you could no longer ignore his obvious glaring. “If you’re awake already, why don’t you get up?”

“It’s barely 4:05,

we don’t go in till 5am.”

He said so factually that you just deeply exhaled. Tssuki was definitely not a morning person, and neither were you.

Even though you were much more energetic, it was a Friday and you could not wait for the end of the workday already.

While Tssuki could be late to practice because let's be honest, few would even confront him, you could not pull off the same irresponsibility.

You cared way too much, and in general, hated the feeling of being late to anything. "Come on." You murmured, nudging Kei as he completely ignored you and kept on sleeping.

You waited for another minute before climbing out of bed, grabbing his attention once again. This time, your black shorts were scrunched further up. So far up that your ample ass cheeks were out in all their glory.

“Arigato, thank you god.”

Nishinoya would say.

“Well I’m not as naturally good looking as you so I’m gonna go shower and start getting ready.”

You huffed, truly riling Kei up inside. Hearing you say that genuinely made something inside of his stomach stir, so he instinctively reached out towards your wrist.

Even in the dark room, he could see your face clearly and tell you weren’t joking. "The fuck is wrong with her?" He thought, not angry, but extremely concerned because you weren't fishing for a compliment.

The two of you had been together for over 3 years now, and so he more than knew that you were not that kind of girl.

Yes, you lacked height at 5’2, but you were physically strong. Literally, you could carry all the grocery bags in one go with no issues. Lifting abilities? Check.

Even though Tssuki cruelly chose the apartment with extra high kitchen shelves, you would never ask for help to reach for stuff. "Help I can't reach" was not a phrase that existed in your world.

Literally, he’d sometimes walk in for some juice and find you on top of a chair reaching for something, if not on the literal counter tops to store items.

Independent? Check.

Resourceful? Check.

On top of all that, you had a voluptuous body he thought was fucking scrumptious. He understood that the norms for women in Japan could be vicious, especially if you weren’t a slender door like he was, but despite your insecurities, you still wore it all so well. You didn’t let it stop you from wearing whatever you wanted (as you should).

At times he did think you were a little bit stupid for fretting over such body image issues, but Tssuki was okay with that.

He didn’t want a know it all like himself, that be beyond insufferable.

Before he knew it, you were teaching him a thing or two as well. So Tssuki then knew you were not a vapid pick me girl, and that was honestly a pretty big turn on for him.

SPEAKING OF TURN ons, Kei found it incredibly hot to have you pinned beneath him, like you currently were.

It wasn’t an ingenue kink, to have you below him so submissively and weak, no. It was the way you fought to assert yourself, and the way you writhed. The way you tried to break free was no half assed attempt either.

Sometimes you'd even throw in a few knees into it, and Tssuki didn't mind it one bit. Two dominate personalities, things were always bound to be feisty in bed.

This time however, he sensed some a defeat in your soul.

Convinced to rekindle your spirits, his brows furrowed as he lowered himself closer to your pretty face.

“Take that back.” Tssuki growled in a low, oh so sexy deepened morning voice.

“I can’t, It’s true.” You protested, sighing as he pulled himself away only to then wrap his arms around your waist and throw you over his shoulders.

Misreading the situation, you first protested before breaking into full on laughter as he stormed into the shower with you still dangling, kicking your short legs in the air.

You had thought this was playful Tssuki, the version no one was too familiar with.

Except you … and Yamaguchi. You and Yams lived to exchange Tssuki-isms.

You were mistaken when trying to approach him as he had stripped entirely. God, you so badly wanted to touch his defined chest and close the space between —and that’s when your favorite salt mine smirked as he instinctively reached back to swivel the shower handle on.

Grabbing the detachable shower heard, Tssuki sprayed you down.

"That son of a bitch." You thought, having jumped back in shock, literally. The water was so fucking cold.

Tssuki raised a brow, testing you. On one hand, he thought you looked like a helpless kitten that was abandoned on some random parking lot on a rainy day.

He was an asshole, but if he ever came across a lonely stray cat, he'd so scoop it up and take home for some warm milk.

On the other hand, he thought you looked even more hot with the way your baggy shirt now clung onto every part of your curvaceous body.

Tssuki had to exhale as he saw your nipples peaking through your smaller but perfect chest. He just wanted to cup your perky tits, squeeze them and hear you moan in delight—your hot breath on his ear as you rested a side of your face on his.

“Can’t touch me till you take that back.”

He warned as you tried to take a step forward.

“Tssu— you whined, sighing as you crossed your arms, cold.

“Admit it, you’re beautiful. Say it.” He insisted as you tossed your head back. "I’m beautiful … kinda, I mean” you trailed off, too distracted by your own cruel thoughts to notice when he raised the shower head again to spray you down.

“Ouch!” You gasped this time, burned by the super hot water. Tssuki turned, realizing that instead of increasing the water’s pressure, he had turned it to the hot side.

Steaming hot.

He rubbed them back of his neck, sheepishly trying to play off. That stupidly cool bathroom is literally what had sold him into choosing that apartment.

After a long day of training, having a large bathtub to soak in, or large walk in shower that doubled as a sauna to rest in was a treat. Not only that, but curative. You swore that this man's epsom salt baths were the reason his long limbs were always good to go, pain free.

Tssuki rushed to place the shower head back on, pushing a few buttons on the digital control panel to get some therapeutic steam going.

On a good morning, he'd already have you pinned to the wall. Your face buried into his neck as Tssuki spread your ass apart, drilling his every inch into you.

But sadly, this wasn't a good morning ... yet. When you waved a hand out in defeat, eyes swelling with tears, Kei grabbed you right before you could step away.

You slammed into his chest with a light thump as he then grabbed your shoulders to keep you balanced. "My clumsy pumpkin." He thought as you raised your head to meet his warm eyes.

Tssuki lowered his face, gently planting a kiss on your forehead. Pulling away, he grabbed your arm & extended it out as he begin to plant a trail of kisses over the burned-pink area. His kisses deepened the closer he got to your neck, stopping only when at your jawline.

Now, the two of you were staring directly at each other, his eyes radiating all the comfort you wanted to see: love, adoration, lust. It was so quiet, but your heartbeat was so damn loud.

His actions were doing all the talking. Now completely soaked, you looked down at the hem of your shirt as Tssuki grabbed both ends and begin to lift the blouse up and away from you.

Left in nothing but shorts, he kept his eyes locked on you as you nodded while he lowered himself to help you out of them.

Now, completely naked, he just stared at you in awe.

You were his goddess, and he was going to happily worship, service, respect, love.

ARIGATO GOD.

“I don’t know why you hesitate” he softly whispered as you took in a deep breath, suddenly feeling overly emotional. Near tears kind of overwhelmed.

To keep yourself from actually sobbing, you cleared your throat to speak up, “I love my job, but I guess sometimes working with so many beautiful models, I can’t help but to compare my—

Tssuki had heard enough about your delusions. His hands flew the sides of your face, pulling you in for a deep kiss. You felt such a thrill surging through your body as he so easily hoisted you up.

It was your favorite thing in the world, to wrap your legs around his long torso, and it was Tssuki’s favorite thing to dig his hands into your firm ass, your soft thighs.

Pulling away, he takes slow steps forward so your back gently meets the wall. With one hand, he caressed your face , thumb gliding over your cheek before connecting his forehead with yours.

“As I was saying, - I don’t know why you hesitate to say it, but I think you’re the most beautiful person in this whole goddamn world.”

A pesky tear escaped onto your cheek, and Tssuki blotted it away with a kiss, burying his face closer to yours. So close your noses are now touching.

When he wanted to, Tssuki could be so completely soft.

“You don’t know every single person in this world.”

You laughed, still touched by his bold declaration.

“I mean it. Waking up to you every morning I think wow, I’m so lucky.”

He admits as you then break into another chuckle. “You’re so full of shit, that’s not the first thing you think of.”

Tssuki pulls on your lower lip down with his thumb, chuckling back. “You idiot sandwich I didn’t say it was the first thing, but it’s a close second.”

You find yourself laughing out loud, his frisky smile fully plastered on his face as your nose scrunches in that way he finds so fucking adorable.

“Begone negativity.” He both teases and shudders at the thought of how Suga burned that in the back of his mind.

“Do I have to sing that stupid One Direction song to you?” Tssuki then jokingly added as your eyes widened.

“You wouldn’t!”

“You’re right that’s disgusting.” He scoffed, hoisting you further up as he took your breath away with another kiss, this time, his hands running through your hair.

It was always a mystery with him, never knowing if he was going to pull on your hair, or caress it.

This time however, as his tongue slipped into your mouth, eager, you couldn’t help but to squeal. You had to give it to him, the man was great at multitasking. While he deepened the kiss, Tssuki tapped the melody of that dumb song on your thighs as if drumming.

"You're insecure, don't know what for, you're turning heads when you walk through the door / don't need makeup to cover up, being the way that you are is enough --

Everyone else in the room can see it

Everyone else but you

Baby, you light up my world like nobody else

The way that you flip your hair gets me overwhelmed

But when you smile at the ground, it ain't hard to tell

You don't know, oh, oh, you don't know you're beautiful."

Tssuki had really taken SMACK MY ASS LIKE A DRUM to a whole other level, and you couldn't even be mad about it.

"Having fun, ya happy doing that?" You teased as he now gave himself a quick rub, fully erect. Your man was so well endowed and that was both exciting and terrifying at times. While you loved dominant Tssuki, today he was a bit more mellow and less gimp man.

"Fuck, Kei-" You moaned as he slowly entered you, rubbing your clit with his thumb, the pressure just right. "I'm definitely having fun, in fact" he smirked as you moved down to slam yourself further into him, begging for more, "I'm happier than ever."

#haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu tsukishima #haikyuu!!#tsukishima x y/n #kei tsukishima #tsukishima x you #kuroo tetsuro oneshot #shoyo hinata #tsukishima fluff

13 notes · View notes

skullrock · 4 years

Text

the fool - Steve x Reader

pairing: Steve x Reader

summary: the fool behind the counter of Scoops Ahoy! is, unfortunately, the only one you have eyes for.

word count: 1.2k

warnings: Steve’s bad pickup lines

a/n: happy anniversary to this costume

===

You were really, truly, about to kill the boy in the sailor uniform.

Yes, you knew Steve Harrington. Everyone knew Steve. And you knew that most people thought Steve was a loser now. You were not part of that crowd, however - in fact, you thought he was cuter now that he wasn’t all high and mighty.

The moment you found out he was working at Scoops Ahoy!, you felt that you had no choice but to go there every single day you worked at the JCPenney down the hall. Without fail, you’d stroll in on your break, ask for a sample, and leave.

It was supposed to be simple.

Steve, unfortunately, paid you no mind. Each time you’d come in, you’d have to wait behind a group of girls as he attempted to dazzle them. His pick up lines were lame and dorky, but that’s what you liked. You’d patiently wait to step up and eagerly flirt back, but you were always met with a metaphoric brick wall.

Steve wouldn’t say “ahoy!”, or take his hat off, or even wink at you. He’d sigh, throw his hat back on, and ask, “What can I get you?”

It was irritating. Were you not good enough? Maybe you weren’t like the popular girls he typically went for, but you felt like you deserved some recognition. You’d try to talk to him, but he’d just nod and smile politely. Robin Buckley paid you more mind than he ever did.

You were working the counter one day when he strolled in. It was his day off, and he had nothing better to do while waiting to collect his paycheck. So he walked around, playing with the fabric hanging on racks, chewing on his bottom lip.

You couldn’t help but to watch him. You watched how he kept running a hand through his highlighted hair, how he kept almost tripping over himself. He seemed so uncertain, and for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out why.

The thing that Steve wasn’t letting on, however, was that he was into you. He just couldn’t dare to think you were into him.

Seeing you come into Scoops was a near daily nightmare for him. He knew you were watching as he failed to flirt with the girls in line in front of you. He had seen you giggle as he tripped over his words. It was humiliating. He never even bothered to try his shot when you stepped up. It wasn’t worth the hassle, he figured. It was enough to be humiliated by the other girls, let alone you.

Steve didn’t know you worked at JCPenney. If he had, he would not have come in. He can’t get a grip - he trips, stumbles, nearly makes five racks all over. And the entire time, your eyes are on him, burning a hole in the fabric of his shirt.

Steve nearly knocks over yet another rack, and his eyes meet yours after he corrects it. He gives a sheepish smile and waves, and you wave back, confused.

Is he drunk? you ask yourself.

But suddenly he’s coming up to you, and he’s sweating and panting because holy shit, he’s nervous. He leans one arm on the counter and says, “Scoops.”

You pause, then nod. “Yes. You work there.”

“You come in a lot.”

“Yeah, I do.”

Steve pauses awkwardly, then raises his eyebrows. “Do you - like it?”

You furrow your brows. “Ice cream?”

He nods.

“It’s okay?”

He nods again and runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, it’s pretty good.”

You both stare at each other for a moment, and that’s when the anger starts to bubble. “Hold on. You’re coming in here and talking to me after ignoring me the entirety of the summer?”

His mouth drops, but he picks it back up quickly. “What do you mean?”

“C’mon, Steve,” you scoff. “I come in there every day and watch you flirt with every single other girl except me.”

He looks taken aback. “I-“

“What is it, Steve? Am I not pretty enough? Or popular enough?”

Steve looks like a deer in headlights, and he simply wants to drop dead. “What? No-“

“Then what is it?”

He shakes his head in disbelief. “Do you ... want me to use those shitty pick up lines on you?”

You laugh. “Steve, no sane person would go eat a sample of ice cream each day just for shits and giggles.”

It takes him a moment. “Wait. You come to see me?”

The embarrassment hits you quickly, making your blood feel hot. Your stomach twists and your cheeks flush. Hastily, you grab some returns. “I gotta go put these back. I’ll see you around.”

Steve watches after you, dumbstruck. Then he sprints to Scoops, where Robin is stationed by herself. She looks up as he enters, his shoes slapping against the floor loudly. “I did it!”

“You did what, exactly?”

Steve pulls out a chair and sits at it, right in front of the counter. It’s in literally everyone’s way, but he doesn’t care. “This girl was coming in just to see me. Just to see me! Not for the shitty ice cream, Robin - for me!”

Robin scoffs. “Okay? And?”

Steve makes a sound of offense..“And? And what?”

“Oh, idiot,” she sighs. “Do you even have a date with her? Get her number? Anything?”

Steve blinks, then jumps up. “Oh, shit,” he mumbles, taking off for you.

“That counts as a ‘you suck,’ dingus!” Robin calls.

He suddenly turns on his heel and runs back. “Give me a scoop of mint in a cake cone.”

“You have to pay for that -“

“Robin!”

She scoops it for him quickly and hands him it begrudgingly. He gives a quick thanks before sprinting back down to you.

You hear him before you see him. “Ahoy, Y/N!”

You turn around, brows furrowed painfully. He comes to you, holding out the cone. “Would you like to set sail on an ocean of flavors with me?”

You want to hate it, but you blush furiously. You look at the cone and smile. “I only see one flavor.”

“An ocean of flavor, then,” he grins. “Our attraction can push the paddles in our boat of love.”

“Okay - you’re pushing it,” you laugh. You take the cone from him gently. “But mint is my favorite flavor.”

“I know. It’s what you usually come sample.”

“You notice a lot, don’t you, Steve?”

“Well,” he starts, going to lean back smugly. But he leans on a rack of clothing and nearly falls on his ass, only catching himself at the last second. He looks shocked, eyes wide, and it’s so goofy that you can’t help but to laugh.

“You’re lucky nerds are my type,” you say, taking a lick of the ice cream. “You free tonight?”

Steve’s taken aback. “Do you - we - on a date?”

“Yeah, we on a date. Do you want to?”

He laughs happily, running a hand through his hair. “When do you get off?”

“Seven. We can meet at the theater?” You bite your lip. “If you’re not too preoccupied with making a fool of yourself, of course.”

“Just in front of you,” he grins.

“Perfect,” you muse, stepping towards him. “Because I like fools.”

Steve beams. “Then you’re really going to like me.”

===

taglist: @harrington-ofhawkins @comedy-witch @gothackedalready @wolfish-willow @sassisaluxury @willowrose99 @harringtown @write-from-the-heart @m-blasterrr @whimsicalwoodlands @anerroroccurrrrred @marvels-gurl @the-almond-dinger @ssanjuniperoo @darth-el @sourapplebaby @yall-wildin-like-siriusly @andyl394 @astil-be @troop-scoop @ilovebucketbarnes @mybestfriendthedingus @unknownherelm @metuel18 @magnitude101999 @simplesammyx @lukeskisses @stevenismyboy

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #oh to be flirted with by Steve....#HAPPY ANNIVERSARY SEASON THREE

330 notes · View notes

rocorambles · 4 years

Note

Imagine Atsumu getting so snotty with his s/o after introducing them fo Osamu and they getting a little too warm with each other for Atsumu’s comfort.

Atsumu would be a BRAT.

You know despite all his bark, there’s a seed of insecurity planted in him, especially when it comes to Osamu. You’ve dated for quite some time now, but he’s never introduced you to his twin. There’s always some excuse. Oh, his schedule doesn’t match up with the breaks I have from volleyball. Oh, it’s busy season for his restaurant, so we shouldn’t bother him. You stop asking him about it after awhile, knowing it’ll happen eventually.

You’ve met his old high school teammates and you don’t miss the way your boyfriend’s hands clench or the way his jaw tightens whenever they speak of Osamu. Man, Osamu was so calm, so trustworthy. We could always count on him to not lose his cool no matter how bad things got. The girls used to flock to him since he seemed so nice, so gentlemanly. They continue raving about the man you’ve never met and you can’t help but think that he sounds like the complete opposite of Atsumu. Oh. It clicks. You bite your lip as you turn to your boyfriend, almost tempted to reach out and reassure him how much you love him, how amazing he is to you. But you know better. You know he’d just withdraw thinking it was out of pity, so you stay quiet.

There’s only so much beating around the bush Atsumu can do and that’s how you find yourself seated across from the gray haired man, with Atsumu seating besides you. He’s just as laid back as people have mentioned and you can’t help but fall into an easy flow of conversation with him, raving about how good his onigiris are and laughing at the stories he tells of his childhood with Atsumu, Atsumu watches the two of you and he sees the way you both unconsciously lean in towards each other. He sees the way you seem to have forgotten he’s even existed and not wanting to be the loser who watches his twin and girlfriend flirt right in front of him, he suddenly slams his hands on the table as he abruptly stands and walks out of the restaurant.

His heart warms a bit when he sees how fast you rush after him, but he petulantly makes a point of ignoring you until the two of you are back at home and even then, he just sits on the couch and flips on the TV, pointedly staring at the screen and not looking at you. You pull at his arm, you wave your hand in his face, you repeatedly call his name, but it’s a battle of stubbornness and Atsumu is the king of being stubborn. It’s only when you grab the remote from his hands, turn off the TV, and plop yourself in his lap with your arms crossed that he turns to look at you.

“What? If you don’t want to watch TV with me, maybe you should just go back and hang out with ‘Samu.”

Your jaw drops in disbelief when you realize what all this is about and you groan when Atsumu literally turns his nose up at you and crosses his own arms. You’re so frustrated at the man in front of you, but a chuckle almost rips its way out of your throat when you’re reminded of a sulking child. You place your palms on his cheeks before pulling him towards you and roughly capturing his lips with yours and you smirk as his arms flail and he stares at you with wide eyes. His mouth is still open when you pull away and you chuckle as you gently close it with a nudge underneath his chin.

“I’m not in love with ‘Samu. I’m in love with an idiot named ‘Tsumu. Don’t ever forget that.”

He blinks at you and there’s an anxious pause as you wait for him to respond, but you feel the tension release from your body when his trademark smirk spreads across his face.

“You’re damn right about that.”

#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #atsumu x reader #haikyuu fluff #atsumu

175 notes · View notes

written-on-the-trees · 3 years

Text

Do You Believe In Love At First, Or Should I Pass By Again? - Machine Gun Kelly Fan Fiction

Word Count: 2675 words

Warnings: None

Summary: Colson meets a woman in a venue bar who doesn't know who he is, and bad pick-up lines ensue.

Where else can you find this: Ao3 | Wattpad

Colson sat at the bar, staring into his drink.

He was feeling...maudlin. It was one of Dom's weird British words, but even without the man beside him, Colson felt it was appropriate, being in London and all.

And because he was fucking miserable.

Maybe it was just because he'd had a bit too much to drink, hadn't smoked, and had now drunk way too much for it to be a good idea to start now, but he felt like shit. He was on his own for once, and even though it was by his own decision, the empty feeling of being alone in a crowded place was starting to creep in. At first it had been fine, when he'd been riding high on the adrenaline of just being on stage, but an hour that adrenaline was starting to fade and he was starting to regret sending everyone on to party without him.

He was debating going to catch up with them versus just going back to the house they were staying at, when a short woman dressed in black sauntered up next to him. Goth chicks weren't usually his type, but she had enough of a figure to grab his attention. He turned in his seat to flirt with her, but to Colson's surprise she ignored him completely, flagging down the bar tender and ordering a drink without giving him a second glance.

Well, clearly she wasn't here to see me tonight.

Normally, he would've let it go...but tonight he needed a distraction, and charming someone who seemed indifferent to him seemed like the perfect diversion.

Obviously, it didn't hurt that the woman was good looking as fuck. Five foot something of curves poured into torn fishnets, a black leather mini-skirt, and a ripped black denim jacket over a white t-shirt with an interesting crying angel in a lightning bolt design on the front. She flicked straight, silky black hair over her shoulder after she ordered, revealing deep purple lips bisected by a shining silver ring that Colson instantly wanted to bite at, and heavily made up eyes that finally looked over at him. Her grey eyes slid over him, taking him in, and obviously finding him wanting if the vague curl of her lip was anything to go by

He probably shouldn't find that hot, but...he did.

"Can I help you?" she asked, her accent making her words seem all the more insulting...and Colson was still into it.

"Yeah, I was just wondering if your name was Google?" he smirked: "Because you're everything I've been searching for."

Grey eyes rolled heavenwards, a sigh escaping purple lips: "Really?"

Colson grinned: "I've got other lines, if you didn't like that one."

"Maybe I just don't like you."

The words were bitchy as fuck, so much so Colson actually winced...but it was still kind of hot, and he laughed even as he was wincing.

He wasn't usually into this mean girl shit, especially not when it was directed at him, but...apparently he really was a bit fucked up tonight. It probably would've been sensible to examine why that might be, but Colson wasn't feeling up to any kind of introspection right now. It seemed like a lot more fun to just try and get her to be mean to him again.

If he got lucky, she might keep it up all night.

"That's okay; I grow on people. I'm like mould."

That, at least, seemed to get an amused snort out of the woman, even if her expression was still a little guarded: "Your words, mate."

"Yeah? Speaking of words: are you a dictionary? 'Cause you’re adding meaning to my life."

Now the woman groaned, but the sound was playful, and there was a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips, the guarded look melting away: "You need to stop."

"But I'm having so much fun." Colson grinned: "Pick-up lines are great. Try using one back, you'll see."

"I don't know. For some reason, I have been feeling a little off today..." she pulled a thoughtful expression, before suddenly smirking: "...but then you came along, and you definitely turned me on."

Colson burst out laughing, before taking another sip of his drink: "Nice. You got game, English, but I'm not sure you're up to my level yet."

"English? Alright, America." the grey eyed girl half-smirked-half-sneered, the expression mocking but not bitchy: "And I can assure you, if you want to play that game, you're going to end up calling me 'your majesty'. Because I fucking rule."

"That right?"

"Yeah, America. That's right."

Well, if that wasn't a challenge, Colson didn't know what was. And Machine Gun Kelly never backed down from a challenge. He didn't have it in him.

Even if this woman didn't know who he was, that would just make playing this game with her all the more fun.

Colson leaned towards English, a smile curling his lips: "Let's go, then. I’d say God Bless you, but it looks like he already did."

"Didn't need him to; I’m always on top of things. Would you like to be one of them?"

"You sure? You said you weren't feeling yourself today...wanna feel me instead?"

"You wish." she laughed, throwing her head back in a way that made her lip-ring glint in the dim light of the bar and exposed the bare skin on her neck, which Colson suddenly wanted to leave hickies all over...before getting distracted by the grey eyed girl's crooked smirk: "Did you know my lips are like Skittles - if you're good, you might just get to taste the rainbow."

"And here I thought it was the Pepsi that was making you look so-da-licious." Colson winked.

"Oh, America, clearly your brain isn't working properly...maybe it's because you're deficient in vitamin me."

"Speaking of vitamins, did you take your Vitamin D today, or did you need me to give you a hand?"

"How about we play Titanic instead. You’ll be the iceberg, and I’ll go down." English winked, and Colson lost it laughing.

She was overdoing it so much, he knew she wasn't actually flirting with him with that one.

The others might have been questionable in terms of whether she might be interested in him, but that one was just an attempt to knock him off his game - and it had been so unexpected that it worked. From the smug little smile on her face, she knew it too.

Colson didn't mind that he'd lost; it'd been fun going back and forth like he had, and now that she'd warmed up a bit this chick had a good energy; less bitchy, and more sarcastic. He liked it. He liked that she could match him; even if he didn't end up leaving with her tonight, he'd enjoy hanging at the bar with someone who could meet him joke for joke, or pick-up line for pick-up line, than he would fucking someone who was silent through half their interaction for whatever reason. Quiet women were never his type; he liked girls with attitude.

And this woman had it by the fucking boatload.

She was leaning back in her barstool, openly examining him, arms crossed over her chest and one leg thrown over the other. She was the picture of quiet confidence, all relaxed but still sitting tall. Some guys might be put off by her lack of fawning, but not Colson.

He just leant in again with his most charming smirk firmly in place.

"So, since you won, would you let me buy you a drink?"

"I've got one, thanks." she held up her glass of something - vodka and soda, if Colson was guessing by the clear colour - before taking a sip: "Why don't you tell me your name instead, loser?"

"Colson."

"Ah, shit. I was hoping I'd recognise it." she laughed: "You look kind of familiar, but maybe I just saw you in the crowd earlier."

He had walked through the crowd at one point...albeit in a hoodie and tucked between tWo security guards: "Maybe."

"That is literally the least convincing 'maybe' I ever heard." English rolled her eyes playfully: "But okay, Colson. I'm Rosie."

Rosie.

It shouldn't have fit her, a soft name for a woman that was anything but soft, but somehow it suited her. She owned it, wore it well. Just like she wore the blood red rose and black brambles tattooed on the back of her left hand...maybe that was why the name fit her. Beautiful in a prickly kind of way.

That certainly fit her.

Not that he was going to say that to her. Rosie, as bitchy as she had been to begin with, didn't seem like the kind of woman to take dubious accolades like 'prickly' as compliments, no matter how nicely they were meant. Colson got the sense the bitchy remarks at the beginning of their conversation had been attempt to shut him up and leave her alone. He'd gotten past that wall pretty quickly, but he was almost certain he could get pushed back outside it pretty quickly as well.

The more the spoke - about how he was finding London, about whether the UK or US did gigs better, about the band whose t-shirt she was wearing - the more Colson found himself liking Rosie. He'd already thought she had a good feeling about her, but the more he spoke to her the more that good feeling grew. She was a bit like Dom, in a way; less loud and energetic, but just as quick and just as unwilling to put up with anyone's shit, including Colson's. She didn't say anything, but she put out clear signs that she was not see him as someone she'd be interested in fucking tonight, and that if Colson tried to make that happen, he'd find himself alone faster than he could ask her to come back.

Colson respected that. As gorgeous as he still thought Rosie was - and as much as he still wanted to mark up her neck to let everyone know she'd let him do it, and bite at her lip ring while making out with her - he wasn't that kind of guy that pushed for what women didn't want to give him. Usually he was the kind to accept their denial and move on, but honestly he was having a better time just talking with Rosie than he had had in a while.

She just seemed to understand him, even when he was leaving gaps in his stories. He was just starting to tell her about Cassie, showing her his screensaver of him and his daughter together, about how frustrating it was that people didn't seem to trust him to parent his own damn kid, when a girl around Cassie's age appeared at Rosie's elbow.

"Hey Miss Barnes, the show's over. Grace's just queuing to go to the loo but she wanted me to go get our coats?"

Rosie turned and smiled at the kid, already fishing in her pockets for the little ticket stubs they gave out for the cloakroom here, when the kid turned to look at Colson. Her eyes widened, and she went a little pale, but when he smiled - because what the fuck else was he gonna do, glare at a thirteen year old girl who looked like she'd seen a ghost for no good reason? - she just dashed off with the stubs for the cloakroom clutched in her hand.

He was so busted.

Not yet, but as soon as Rosie was taking the kids home, they were going to tell her who she'd been talking to.

"Well, it looks like I'm going to have to go." Rosie announced, tone apologetic as she shrugged in a 'what can you do?' kind of way: "Downsides of chaperoning your niece and her friends to a gig, you're on their time-table."

"I would try and say something positive, but I struggle not giving in to one kid, let alone a bunch of them." he returned: "Maybe if you get a day that you're not on anyone else's schedule, you could give me a call? I'm in London for a few more days."

Rosie looked surprised, but she nodded: "Sure. You want my number?"

"I'll give you mine." Colson pulled a sharpie from the pocket of his jeans, scrawling his number on the back of one of his bar receipts: "I'd lose my head if it weren't screwed on, but my phones usually just as attached to me as my head is anyway."

And this way, if she didn't want to talk to him again, the decision was hers and hers alone.

Seemed fair, considering she wasn't going to know who he actually was until after he was too far away for her to turn him down to his face. Colson couldn't deny he would be pretty upset if he never heard from her again, but it would be better than him reaching out to her and her ignoring him. He had a fairly thick skin when it came to rejection - he had to, by now - but he was certain Rosie would prove an exception to that rule.

Best to give her his number and just hope she gave him a chance to explain why he had half-lied to her.

"Great. Speak to you soon, Colson." Rosie took the receipt and tucked it into the black purse that was slung over her shoulder.

Colson smiled, but the expression felt a little hollow: "Speak to you soon."

He hoped he hadn't just lied again.

MESSAGE FROM AN UNKNOWN NUMBER

So, I might've seen you in the crowd, huh?

Colson blinked at his phone for a few seconds, still half-asleep but for once not hungover or coming down, last night coming back to him in a sudden flash, cutting through the fog of sleep quicker than the lightning bolt on a certain t-shirt last night.

Rosie.

Unlocking his phone with fumbling fingers - not that he'd ever acknowledge that to anyone if they saw it - Colson rushed to respond to Rosie's text message, worrying his lower lip between his teeth as he did:

If it helps, I did walk through the crowd at one point.

So you might of.

As opposed to recognising you from when you were on stage?

Yeah, seems likely.

I'm sorry?

There were a few minutes of no response, with Colson holding onto his phone and watching the chat screen, trying not to worry about what Rosie might be thinking.

Would she be thinking of the nicest way to let him down gently? Or maybe the harshest way to tell him to fuck off? Was she going to change now she knew he had a degree of wealth and fame? She hadn't seemed like the type...but he'd really only had one conversation with her. And that conversation had been just two people at a bar. Colson didn't think he was being egotistical when he worried him being Machine Gun Kelly could change things.

It's fine.

I probably wouldn't have told you if I was famous, either.

You telling me you're not a model? Damn, pretty sure I thought I recognised you from a magazine.

It must've been a museum.

Because you truly are a work of art.

Really, mate, you wanna lose this game again?

Colson sighed in relief.

She was still calling him 'mate', and she was still challenging him to play dumb games with her, just like last night. Finding out who he was hadn't changed shit.

He hadn't irreparably fucked anything up.

I'm not hearing any comeback, flower power.

Oh, it's fucking on now, America.

You must be a broom, because you just swept me off my feet.

Colson grinned, racking his brain for a good response as he hauled himself out of bed and headed down towards the kitchen to make himself a coffee. He was going to need it, to keep up with Rosie.

And he was almost unreasonably happy about that.

#The Trees Writes #Machine Gun Kelly imagine #Machine Gun Kelly fanfic #Machine Gun Kelly fan fic #Machine Gun Kelly fan fiction #MGK imagine #MGK fanfic #MGK fan fic #MGK fan fiction #Colson Baker imagine #Colson Baker fanfic #Colson Baker fan fic #Colson Baker fan fiction

42 notes · View notes

bopbopstyles · 4 years

Text

Temptation (pt. 1)

RATING: M/smut

WORD COUNT: 9.4k

CATEGORIES: fratboy!harry

“Can I ask you something?”

She turned back and looked at him. “Sure.”

“Why haven’t I seen you before?”

She shrugged at his question. “Dunno. I’ve never been to parties here before. We’ve got different majors. It’s a big school.”

“Not that big.”

“Big enough.”

“Too big if I missed out on meeting you until now.”

Her breath caught. The words fell from his mouth with such ease, such nonchalance, as if his words didn’t shake the ground she stood on.

Harry’s a fratboy and Nora (might) be in love with him. (part 1)

PART TWO | PART THREE

After a semester abroad, the last thing Nora felt like doing was going to an American frat party.

She had spent the semester in Germany going to clubs and house parties, weird bars and day drinking at festivals. All she wanted was a pint of good beer, a cute boy to flirt with in her horrifically bad German, and go home and curl up in her double bed. Now she was back home going to a beginning of semester frat party where there would be shit beer, she wouldn’t be “the cute American girl,” and she was back to the Twin-XL life. It was the weekend before school started, so she knew it would be crazy—no one had work to do, no one was stressed, and everyone was desperate to be back at school and away from their families.

But Maddy wanted her to go, and so she was going.

“You’re going to drink these boys under the table!” Maddy called to her from their bathroom where she was curling her hair. “We’re going to play rage cage, I’ve already decided.”

“I hate rage cage,” Nora lied. She loved it and she knew it. “Abroad changed me!”

A bootie came flying in her direction, and Nora caught it before tossing it back to Maddy. “You’re a shit liar.”

She took another sip of the drink she had mixed, some decent vodka and Fresca, her secret weapon of a mixer. “Who are you going after tonight again?”

Since Nora had left Maddy had decided she was in love with the boys of Delta Sigma. They were mostly the international boys who didn’t seem like they’d be the frat type and were so hot you couldn’t tear your eyes away from them. Also, apparently their parties were insane. “His name’s Liam,” she said, “and he was quite possibly the most gorgeous boy on earth.”

“What’s his instagram again?”

She read out a handle from memory, and Nora typed the handle into her phone as she took another sip. She scrolled through the photos, most of which appeared to be from frat parties, with the occasional more artsy photo of him and friends. They appeared to be on actual film, which was interesting for frat boy. “Is he a photographer?”

“No, why?”

“These photos looked like they’re on actual film," she replied. Nora clicked on one and it’s a photo of him, but she noticed he had tagged someone. Someone with the handle @harry_styles. She clicked on the name and was immediately entranced. Based on his bio, he was their year at school, but she had never heard of the kid before. He also appeared to be British. She scrolled through his photos, all taken on film, and gorgeous. Some were of landscapes, but most were portraits of people doing simple and mundane things. He was incredibly talented. “Some kid named Harry takes them,” Nora told her.

“Oh, I think he was friends with Liam. I’ve seen them before.” Maddy strutted out of the bathroom and striked a pose, perfectly curled hair bouncing behind her head as she shook it. “Like?”

“Love.” Maddy was wearing a snakeskin bodysuit, ripped black jeans, and heeled booties, and she looked incredible as usual. “Now what the fuck am I going to wear?”

“Good lord, you will be the death of me someday, Nora Tate.”

The party was in full swing when they arrive. They weaved their way through the crowds on the front lawn, Maddy jabbering in her ear about how hot this Liam kid is. Nora simply nodded along, thankful for the vodka coursing through her veins, because the amount she did not want to be there was pretty high.

The lights were low and the music was loud when they opened the door, the smell of sweat and cheap beer hitting her immediately. Ah yes, this was why she left America.

“Rage cage," she reminded Maddy, and Maddy squeezed her hand before pulling her deep into the crowd. They weaved their way through the throngs of people to the kitchen, where they poured themselves drinks, and then Maddy dragged her to the basement.

There were four pong tables set up, three of which currently had games going—all simple games of pong, and a bunch of people loitering around the tables waiting for a turn. “We’re going to have to start the game,” Maddy told her quietly.

“Yes.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Why?”

“I’m scared!”

Good lord. “Who do I talk to about starting a game of rage cage?” Nora yelled into the loud room.

Everyone stopped talking and looked in one direction.

Harry was leaning against a table in the back where a computer is set up, most likely controlling the music. “Me,” he yelled in reply, standing up. “Let’s play.”

“You’re fucking insane,” Maddy told her, laughing, “and I love you.”

Harry was fucking gorgeous in person. Like, he was gorgeous on social media, but in person he was effortlessly beautiful. Cropped hair with a wave to it, high cheekbones, and the swagger of someone who truly didn’t give a fuck about what people think of him. She suddenly decided that Maddy was not alone in her love of this fraternity.

A bunch of boys, freshman pledges from the looked of it, finished filling cups with beer and setting up the table. Nora grabbed Maddy’s hand and led her over to the table. She set them up right in the middle, the best place to be, and placed their cups in a safe zone of the table. “Remember, controlled bounces," she reminded Maddy, who was notoriously horrible at this game, “and I’ll help you drink if you need it.”

“My savior,” she replied, and Nora snorts in response.

“Want to start?” She looked up and Harry was standing next to her, holding a ping pong ball out to her. His accent was like butter and she honestly wanted nothing more than to hear it constantly on a loop.

“Sure.”

Some pledge had the other ball and positioned himself across the table from her, and everyone scrunched together around the table. Bodies pressed closer and she tried to ignore the feeling of Harry’s arm flush against hers.

“Good at this game?” Harry asked her, leaning his head over so she could hear him.

“Actually, yes,” she replied.

“Let’s see,” he said, and she thought she caught a wink before she bounced the ball and made her first cup.

Maddy was drunk, despite the fact that Nora had been avoiding giving her a cup the whole game. The problem wasn’t Maddy though, it was the other people at the table. Upon discovering Maddy was a) still quite sober and b) horrible at the game, they took it upon themselves to single her out, sending all their cups her way. Meanwhile, Nora was in her happy drunk phase, one that could be sustained by sipping a drink every hour, but became messy if she went too hard.

Next to her, Harry was flushed and laughing, the alcohol and the game having loosened him up. They kept bumping into each other, their fingers brushing when he passed her the pong ball, and it messed up her breathing every time.

There’s only three cups yet, and she was just praying that Maddy didn’t end up with the bitch cup. But as the ball and the cups worked their way around the table, some pledge drinking one and a girl drinking the other, there was only one left. And the ball was coming straight for them.

“Fuck,” Nora said under her breath.

Harry looked down at her, somehow having heard her. “You good?”

“I just don’t want my friend to have the bitch cup.”

Harry glanced over at Maddy. “looked like it would do her in.” “Harry, pay attention mate!” His head whipped back and the tall stack of cups was right in front of him. He took the ball and Nora watched him, knowing he was going to make a perfect shot in, just like he had all night.

Except he didn’t. He missed.

And he missed again.

“C’mon Harry!” Someone yelled, and her eyes focused on the boy standing before Harry, who was desperately trying to make it into the single cup he has in front of him, but the slick beer-covered surface of the table meant the cup was sliding around and he kept missing.

Harry missed another shot.

And the boy before him made his.

“HARRYYY!!!!!” The table screamed, and everyone started chanting his name as he reached for the bitch cup.

He caught Nora’s eye right before he started chugging the beer, some of it spilling down the front of his barely buttoned shirt.

And it hit her—he missed on purpose.

He was trying to make sure Maddy didn’t have to drink it and instead made sure he drank it.

Harry slammed the empty solo cup down on the table and cheers erupted, a grinning Harry the triumphant loser.

“Another game?” Some kid asked, and everyone agrees, but Nora just shook her head.

“We’re good,” she said, taking her and Maddy’s drinks from earlier.

Harry stepped away from the table. “Same,” he said, and no one questioned that.

“I wanna find Liam,” Maddy said to her as they stepped away from the table.

“Okie doke, Tiger,” she told her, and Maddy giggled in response.

She looked up at Harry who was standing right in front of her, blocking their exit. “Thanks for that," she told him, their eyes catching.

“Anytime,” he replied. “I’m Harry, by the way.”

As if she didn’t already know his name. “Nora.”

“I’m Maddy!” Maddy piped up from behind her. “Now we’re on the hunt for more alcohol and some dancing, so could you scooch out of our way?”

Harry chuckled, and Nora just rolled her eyes. “Have fun,” he said, and she tugged Maddy away from the table.

“he was soooo hot,” Maddy said as they climbed the stairs. “Like literally, could-melt-polar-ice-caps hot.”

“You’re so fucking weird.”

“And you love me for it!” She said, throwing her arm around Nora’s shoulders. “Now let’s find us some dancing.”

Maddy hadn’t been able to capture Liam’s attention despite all of her efforts, but she had captured the attention of another DSig boy, who she was now dancing with in the middle of the dance floor. Nora made her promise to tell her if she was going to leave without her, and with that Nora left her to her own devices.

She wandered outside, seeking fresh air, and sat down on the edge of the deck that extended into the backyard. It was quieter out here, the thud of the bass faint and the cold air welcome on her sweaty skin.

“Fancy seeing you here,” a smooth British accent said to her.

She turned and saw Harry sitting a few feet away from her, leaning back on his hands, a beer next to him. His thin white button-down was unbuttoned low, exposing tattoos littering his torso, and thanks to the porch lights and soft glow of the moon she could see the many rings adorning the fingers of hands and the pendant necklace lying on a butterfly tattoo just on his abdomen. She caught sight of a trace of stubble on his chin and perhaps an earring in his ear.

Nora had never been this entranced by another human being. “Tired of your party?”

“Bloody hate these things after a while.” He took a swig of his beer and sighed. “You said it was Nora, right?”

She nodded. “Without an H.”

He cracked a smile. “Harry, with an H.”

“What would it be, sans an H?”

“Arry.”

“That isn’t a name.”

“Most people call me something that,” he said.

“‘Arry?”

“Yeah.”

“Most people call me Nor," she replied.

“But your name is already so short, why do you need a nickname?” She shrugged in response. Just what people did. “You’re taking the thunder of everyone with names that aren’t nickname-able.”

She leaned back on her hands, copying his pose. “Your name is nickname-able.”

“Try.”

Names rolled over in her head. “I’d probably just said ‘H’.”

He was quiet for a beat. “Never heard that one before.”

“Well, I’m happy that I could introduce it to you.”

They were both quiet for a second, and then she heard the scrape of fabric. Harry had scooted closer to her, his position changed so he was facing her, one leg still dangling off of the porch, the other bent in front of him. “What do you study, Nora without an H?”

“History," she replied without a beat. “Mainly German history.”

“Why?” His tone was genuinely inquisitive, as if this was a completely intriguing fact that he simply must know more about.

“I guess…I’ve always liked stories," she told him, finding her words as they come. “And history is really just a bunch of stories that they can learn from and use to make sense of the world around us.”

He considered her answer. “I like that.”

“And you? What do you study, Harry with an H?”

“Comparative literature,” he replied. “Focusing on Italian.”

“Why?”

He grinned. “I’ve always loved languages and reading, and it just seemed like the right fit. You have a better answers than me for this question.”

“You like comp lit?”

“Love it,” he said immediately.

It was rare to find a fratboy who genuinely enjoys what he studies, so Harry was an outlier. “And you speak Italian, I assume?”

“Sì.”

She knew no Italian, but she gathered that that’s a yes. “How long?”

“Most of my life.” He took another sip of his beer, and someone opened the sliding door behind them, music and voices swirling around them. “My grandparents bought a house in Italy before they had my mum and it’s stayed in the family. I’ve spent all my summers and holidays there.”

“You were there for Christmas, then, I assume?” He nodded. “I’m jealous.”

“Best place on earth.”

“Where in Italy?”

“Lucca. It’s not too far from Florence.” He scooted a hair closer to her as he swung his other leg onto the porch, winding his long legs into a comfortable position. “You ever been?”

“To Italy?” He nodded. “Nope. Didn’t make it there while I was abroad.”

“Shame. Where’d you go?”

“Berlin for the fall semester," she replied, and he perked up. “Traveled a bunch, but stuck to central and northern Europe mainly. Copenhagen, Prague, Luxembourg, Amsterdam, Warsaw, and then around Germany. Spent a week in London during Thanksgiving and my mom met me there.”

He ran a hand through his hair absentmindedly, and she watched his bicep flex with the movement. “That sounds incredible. My parents told me being here was my study abroad, so I’m missing out.”

“That’s a shame," she told him. “I needed the break from all this," she waved her hand around them, attempting to capture the absurdity of college and the pressure and the exhaustion in a single motion. “Felt nice to be given the opportunity to slow down a bit.”

“I can imagine.”

Their conversation slowed a bit. The sliding door opened again and a group of girls started talking loudly near them, their discussion circling around some boy they’re all in love with, but they thankfully made their way to the fire pit on the other side of the yard.

“Can I ask you something?”

She turned back and looked at him. “Sure.”

“Why haven’t I seen you before?”

She shrugged at his question. “Dunno. I’ve never been to parties here before. We’ve got different majors. It’s a big school.”

“Not that big.”

“Big enough.”

“Too big if I missed out on meeting you until now.”

Her breath caught. The words fell from his mouth with such ease, such nonchalance, as if his words didn’t shake the ground she stood on.

“Nor!”

She looked up and Maddy was standing in the doorway and she was thankful for the distraction. “You okay?”

“I wanna go homeeee,” Maddy said, her words slightly slurred. “I’m tired.”

“Let’s go home then, babes.” She downed the rest of her beer and then turned to Harry. “See you around, H.”

Before he had the chance to reply, Nora walked inside, the door shutting behind her.

Maddy and Nora spent the rest of the weekend decorating their apartment and analyzing Harry’s sentence to her. Maddy was convinced that he had a crush on her, but Nora begged to differ. Nora thought he was just a poetic guy who had a bit too much to drink. Maddy rolled her eyes at her but let it drop finally and began describing Niall, the adorable Irish boy who she had been dancing with. He was sweet and funny and a good kisser, and didn’t try to get her to come home with him. Just got her number and told her to find Nora so she could go home since she was drunk and tired. (Sometimes, Nora thinks, it’s a bit sad how low the bar was set.) She seemed to have forgotten all about Liam, who she said was just too unattainable that it wasn’t worth trying.

By Monday, Nora was anxious to get into the classroom. After a semester of operating at half intelligence because all her classes were in German, she was excited to be able to actually communicate her full thoughts on a topic. She wanted to write papers and read things that intrigued her.

She'd put a lot of thought into crafting her schedule, leaving time for her shifts at the coffeeshop on campus, while also balancing her schedule between History, German, and Gen Ed requirements. She'd chosen to takes an Urban Studies class for her technology requirements, since it required use of something classed GIS. Maddy was an Urban Studies major, so Nora decided that it was safe to assume she’d help her pass if she needed it.

She chose a safe seat—middle of the room, middle of the row, able to see the screen but not too close that she looked too eager. She unpacked her notebook, already labelled for the class and her pencil bag with her favorite pens. She was ready to be back at school.

She was not ready for Harry Styles to slide into the seat next to her.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he said, and she just about jumped out of her skin.

“Fucking hell.” The words fell from her mouth without pause. “You scared me.”

He leaned back in his chair. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re not," she said, catching her breath. “What are you doing here?”

“Fulfilling a Gen Ed,” he replied. “This seemed interesting and easy enough. You?”

Embarrassingly, the same reason. “Me too.”

He smiled. “Was nice to see a familiar face when I walked in.”

Before she could reply, the lecture started, and her mind tuned out everything else in the room. Their professor went over the syllabus, which seemed decent, and then started in on the first lecture. Nora was quickly engrossed, scribbling notes about different city planning techniques and histories, making notes of things she wanted to look up more on. The professor had a good lecture style—succinct, engaging, and a bit funny. He had some memes throughout his presentation that got the class laughing, and she tried to ignore how Harry’s soft chuckle made her stomach flip.

In fact, she spent the whole class trying to ignore Harry.

She tried to ignore the way he bit his lip while he wrote notes, the wrinkle in his eyebrows when he was trying to understand something, the way he pulled on his lip when he was reading intently. How his handwriting was messy but clear, how he said “fuck” lightly under his breath when he smudged ink, how his leg bounced up and down when he was trying to focus.

But most of all she tried to ignore the fact that he kept glancing over at her.

Because the thing was, Nora was not in the market to have feelings for someone. She didn’t want to have a crush. She wants to have aimless sex with cute boys and go about her life as she wanted. After the fall, she'd decided that boys were confusing and a waste of time.

Jonas. She'd met him at a house party and it had been a fling—they’d hooked up a couple of times, he’d make her tea and breakfast in the morning, they’d drunk text each other, and he’d act like her boyfriend if they were out together. Sometimes the things he’d say and the way he’d look at her would make her wonder if it was more for him. If he cared. But then, before she knew it the semester was over and it was time to go and their didn’t even have a proper goodbye. It was weird and confusing and when she left she didn’t know what to make of it, because if they’d had more time she probably would’ve dated him. And now, sometimes she'd remember the way he’d back her up against a wall and wonder if she'd find someone who would kiss her the way Jonas did.

So when Nora looked at Harry, she couldn’t help but wonder how he would kiss. And that was when she knew that even though she had only known him for two days, she was developing a crush.

And that was the opposite of how she wanted to start her semester.

When class ended, Harry turned to her and said, “Want to go pick up their course books?”

She didn’t have a class next, so she had no excuse. So she just said yes.

“What did you think?” He asked, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder as they exited the lecture hall.

“The professor was great," she replied. “Really engaging and seems like he was not going to be harsh of a grader since it’s an intro class.”

“Yeah definitely. And I liked how he explained all of the different city plans with such detail but also clarity. He seems to know what he was doing.”

They turned to exit onto the campus green, and she pulled her coat a little tighter around her. It was January and she had forgotten how cold it could get in Massachusetts. “Which section do you think you’re going to do?” The professor had mentioned at the end of class that they would have weekly discussion sections with their TAs to go over material and readings, and had listed out the different time options. She was leaning towards Wednesdays at 11, just after their class was over.

“Probably Wednesday at 11,” he replied. “Fits best into my schedule.”

Fuck. “I was thinking of doing the same one," she told him. This was not good. More time around Harry was not going to be good for her.

“Really?” Nora couldn’t help but take joy in the smile that spread across his face. “Thank god. I hate going into those sections and not knowing where to sit.”

They turned into the building with the campus bookstore, and Nora unwound her scarf from around her neck. “Well, you won’t have to worry about that.”

“Do you have other books you need to pick up?”

She shook her head. “Not yet. I’m going to hold off and go after my other classes so I can figure out what I can get at the library first.”

“Good idea.” He pulled out the syllabus from his backpack and studied the instructions their professor had written down for the books their need. “I think they’re over this way,” he said, leading the way to the back corner.

“Spend a lot of time here?” She asked, shocked he knew where to find the books without even asking for help.

“I worked here during freshman and sophomore year,” he replied. “They never change up the organization of this place.” He scanned the shelves with his finger, mumbling the names of the authors they were looking for under his breath. Nora stood behind him and couldn’t help but smile. “Here,” he said, pulling two copies of one out. “Hold them?”

“‘Course.” She took the books and held them in her arms while he continued his search for the second and third titles they need. He quickly tracked them down, snatching them off the shelf and adding them to the pile in her arms. “That it?”

“Yes.” They weaved their way to the front register and she followed Harry, watching how his long brown coat whips around his ankles when he walked.

After they paid, they walked back out to the campus green and stood on the edge of the sidewalk facing each other. “Do you have another class?” He asked her.

She nodded. “Later. Think I’m going to go home and drop these off first, though.” She lifted the stack of books in her arms and he smiled.

“Bit too heavy for you?”

“Shove off," she said, and a smile sneaked onto her face when he chuckled.

“Well, I’ll see you on Wednesday.”

She took a step back and shouldered her bag. “Bye, H.”

“Bye, Nora.”

She tried to ignore the beauty of the way he said her name. But she failed.

Maddy and Nora had been in the library for most of Saturday doing their readings for the next week, and by seven o’clock Nora wanted to bash her head into a wall. She kept re-reading the same sentence about the layout of Vienna’s old city and couldn’t process any of the words.

“Maddy," she whispered, poking her in the arm with the cap of her highlighter. “I want to go.”

“Stop poking me, you ass.” Maddy looked up from her readings. “Let’s get out of here—I feel like I smell like library at this point.”

We packed up their stuff quietly, ignoring the death stares from a girl with a problem set spread out on the table in front of her. “It’s like they don’t realize that people naturally make noise when they move," she said, and Maddy snorted, earning them more glares. “Come on, we should go before we’re killed in here.”

She followed Maddy out of the room they were in and made their way down the hall, the sound of Nora’s sneakers squeaking on the tile floor earning us yet more glares from people. It was literally the first week back at school, Nora thought, how are people already so stressed about work?

Maddy suddenly slowed her walk and matched her pace with Nora’s, leaning in close to her. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t that Harry walking towards us?”

Nora looked up and realize that it was Harry. He was wearing an oversized black sweatshirt and a pair of houndstooth pants that he somehow makes looked both comfortable and stylish, along with a pair of glasses. She simply does not understand this boy’s ability to looked so good constantly. “I cannot talk to him right now," she told Maddy. “I looked like complete shit and he looked like…a Greek god.”

“Shut up. You’re going to talk to him because he was basically beelining over here.”

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck," she said under her breath.

“Nora.” Harry’s voice was soft because of the library, and she loved the way it sounded. “Maddy, right? I’m Harry.”

Maddy nodded. “Nice to meet you.”

Harry’s gaze turned back to her, and she decided then and there that she loves him in glasses. He was not just a Greek god, he was a studious Greek god. Tortoise shell, peak book nerd. “How are you?”

“Good," she replied. “Was just doing the reading for their class.”

He groaned. “I haven’t even started it. How bad is it?”

She shrugged. “A bit dry, but not horrible.”

“Great,” he said. “I have that to look forward to doing. What are you two up to tonight?”

She looked at Maddy, who shrugged. “Unsure at this point.”

“We’re having another party if you want to come.”

“We’ll be there,” Maddy said before Nora had the chance to reply. She shot Maddy a death stare, which Maddy just ignored.

Harry grinned and it was utterly adorable. “I’ve got to keep working, but I’ll see you guys later.”

“Bye H.” The nickname fell from her mouth with ease, and he smiled in response.

“Bye Nora.”

He walked away and she turned to Maddy, who was grinning ear to ear. “What?”

Maddy shook her head and gave her a knowing smile. “You’re fucked.”

She looked back to Harry’s receding figure. Maddy was right. Nora was completely fucked.

They had been at the party for an hour and Nora had yet to see Harry. She didn’t know if he was hiding or something, but no matter which room she went into or how hard she looked, she still couldn’t manage to spot him in the crowd. The party was bigger than last weekend as everyone was now on campus, and Maddy and Nora kept running into people they knew, so now they’ve developed a little crew to hang out with. Their friends Taylor and Lauren arrived shortly after Maddy and Nora did, and they brought with them a girl who was in the same sorority as Lauren and was dating a DSig. As a result, they all end up trashed and dancing without much time passing.

Nora threw her arms around Maddy and screamed the lyrics to a Post Malone song, and Nora felt utterly, blissfully happy. She had forgotten about this side of frat parties while she was gone—how happy she was when she was dancing and there was alcohol coursing through her veins. Some girl must have gotten hold of the music, because the song changed to an old Taylor Swift song and the girls lost it, jumping up and down in the crowd and screaming the lyrics at the top of their lungs.

“I need a drink!” Nora said when the song was over, her throat hoarse and her hair sticking to the back of her neck. The song switches, and the Maddy screamed—it was her favorite song and she had to be on the dance floor for it. Nora could see the torn look in her best friend’s eyes, and she shook her head. “I’m good—I’ll be back in a second.”

She pushed through the crowd, apologizing as she dug her elbows into people to make a path to the kitchen. She grabbed a beer, needing something cold and not too strong, and leaned against the countertop, letting the cooler air wash over her skin.

“Hello.”

The words tingled down her spine, and she turned her head to see Harry standing in the door jamb. The kitchen had mostly cleared out, so it was just the two of them and a set of girls who looked like freshman trying to decide which mixer was less disgusting with their bad vodka. “Hi, H.”

“Having fun?” He was wearing a black t-shirt and it was tight in all the right places and Nora had to force herself to not consider what it would be like to take it off of him.

She nodded. “Couldn’t find you, though.” The words tumbled from her mouth before she could stop them and Nora wanted to shrink into the counter. She sounded desperate and psychotic—she had barely known this boy and now she was complaining about now being able to find him?

But Harry just smiled. “I was upstairs,” he explained. “Was trying to finish a bit of work before I started drinking.”

If he was doing work here, Nora assumed he lived in the house. “You live here?”

“Unfortunately.” He moved towards her, grabbing a beer from the fridge next to her, and Nora caught a flash of light blue on his fingers. Harry painted his nails, she realized.

This fraternity boy painted his goddamned nails light blue.

Who was this boy?

What planet was he from?

And more importantly, where had he been all of her life?

“I like your nails,” she said. “What color is that?”

He glanced down at them. “Dunno. Stole it from my sister over winter break. I can check and text it to you later, though.”

“I’d like that.” Nora took another sip of her beer, the cold drink feeling good in her body. “Where are all your friends?”

Harry shrugged. Nora got the sense that he didn’t really care about all the fraternity stuff and she liked that. Frat boys had always annoyed with their “bro energy” as Maddy called it and she’d met some real assholes during her time in college. Harry seemed like an outlier though. “You want to dance?” He asked her, breaking her out of her trance.

She straightened up. “Sure.” She tried not to think about the fact that she cannot, for the life of her, dance sexily. Maddy had made fun of her for it since freshman year, and despite her efforts Nora had not been able to master the art of looking hot and dancing. She was more of a whip-your-arms-around-and-scream dancer.

When they reached the crowded living room, Harry grabbed her hand and Nora loved his callused hand in her hers, the way he held it tightly so he didn’t lose her in the crowd. He didn’t go too deep into the crowd, wanting to make sure they had space to breathe and it was not too hot. When he stopped moving he tried to create space for them, wanting to make sure they could actually move, not just stand there like idiots and battle for oxygen on the dance floor. Nora took a long swig of her beer, and then she started to sway her hips, deciding to throw caution to the wind.

She liked this boy. She had a massive crush on Harry and his soft words and the way he called her by her full name and smiled at her. She had a crush on the way he was dancing—awkwardly and with a goofy grin on his face, screaming the lyrics to the Top 40s hit along with her. She liked that he didn’t seem to care what people thought of him, that he painted his nails baby blue and knew how to dress himself. She even liked his tattoos, which she usually secretly judged people for, but on Harry they fit him. She wanted to trace the outlines of them and ask him about the stories behind them, to know everything about him. She liked that he took the hit during rage cage for Maddy. She liked that when they were dancing he gives her a thumbs up to check in and make sure she was doing okay.

She really liked him, she realized as she dances with him. She wanted to impress him, but not in a way that’s uncomfortable—more in a way where she just wanted him to see the best parts of her. But she also wanted him to know her, she realized. She wanted him to know things about her and like being around her as much as she did. Because he put her on edge, but not because he made her uncomfortable, but because of how much she liked him. She wanted to know him, even if it was just to be friends, because he seemed interesting. She felt like he has layers to him, and every time she snatches another piece of information she only has more questions.

Even if they were just friends, Nora wanted to know him, she decided.

So she decided, fuck it all, and danced like she didn’t have a care in the world, because she wanted him to see the real her. She wanted him to see her awkward dancing and to accidentally hit him in the face with her hair so that he knew her and could bail if he didn’t like her. She wanted to give him and out and see if he took it.

And he didn’t.

They dance for what feels like forever, their beers long gone. He grabbed her hand at one point when people were becoming pushy and pulled her closer to him, their sweaty bodies touching each other practically every time they move. They sang their favorite songs, and he leaned down to whisper in her ear, “I fucking love this song,” when Mamma Mia came on, and Nora decided that it’s the cutest thing she had ever found out about someone. She told him about her obsession with Drake when In My Feelings comes on, and he admitted that he listened to this song on repeat for three hours one time. They had these snippets of conversation on the dance floor, their faces close and voices loud enough to be heard over the music.

SexyBack came on and they both devolve into seventh graders, obsessed with this song and not really caring about the meaning. Nora danced, throwing her hands up and dropping her hips lower than she had before.

And then someone slammed into her back, throwing her straight into Harry’s chest.

The feeling of him close to her set her skin on fire.

She had kept just enough distance during the evening to make sure they weren’t this close, but it had not taken much for them to be fully flush against each other. And now they were and Nora could feel everything. One of her hands was on his pecs and she could feel the smooth muscle across his chest, and the other hand landed on his side, the palm of her hand on his abs and she felt the outline of abs there. Her fingers dug into his skin, grappling for balance as she tried to find her footing.

Harry’s hands immediately found her waist, holding her steady. His fingers felt like they were searing on her lower back, the contact sending Nora into outer space. And she didn’t know if it was from the alcohol or from him, but either way her head was spinning a bit.

“You okay?” He asked, his accent smooth as butter in her ear. His lips were close enough that they brush softly against her hair and the edge of her ear. Nora was trying not to hyperventilate, but also maintain her footing, and not press all of her weight onto Harry.

She was about to answer that yes, she was fine, so sorry, when someone bumped into her again, pushing her back into Harry. He stumbles this time and wrapped his arms around Nora fully to try and keep them both upright. He was essentially hugging her at this point and Nora thought her heart might have stopped the second she felt him tug her close to him.

“Someone’s really trying to push you over, aren’t they?” He said with a chuckle into your ear.

“I’m so sorry,” Nora apologized, finding her footing and straightening. She didn’t push away from Harry though, and he didn’t let go of her. “I didn’t mean to fall onto you—or into you, I guess?”

He shook his head. “No matter. You okay, love?”

Love. The word reverberated through Nora’s head and she tried to keep her wits about her. She knew she was feeling mushy tonight—all these thoughts of Harry and how adorable he was and sweet and kind had got her melting for him, but maybe that was the alcohol? She couldn’t keep it straight. And when he called her love, all of the efforts to keep it together just fall apart.

“I’m okay,” she answered softly. “Are you?” She looked up and into his eyes, and even though the room was dark, she could still make out his eyes in the strobing lights, the flashes of his beautiful hair and his high cheekbones. She could see his eyes meet hers and Nora felt this pull in her chest to kiss him. He didn’t break eye contact with her and Nora was just searching his eyes, begging for an answer, an explanation, some hint to tell her what to do and what he bloody wanted.

Because she knew what she wanted. She wanted to kiss him.

“‘M fine.” His voice was like sandpaper and she wondered if his mouth was as dry as hers was. He hadn’t moved his hands from her back, only loosened them slightly so he was not holding her quite so close.

She inched her fingers upwards, one landing on his shoulder, the other on his elbow. Nora wondered if she was imagining the way his breathing had quickened. Did she kiss him? She wanted to. She wanted to kiss him so bad. She wanted to know what his lips feel like on hers, if they were as soft as they felt when they bushed her ear. She wanted to know what he tasted like and how he would kiss her. Did she just do it? She searched his eyes one last time, the seconds stretching into what feels like hours. “Can I kiss you?”

He blinked.

Nora held her breath.

Then, his lips were on hers and suddenly Nora knew exactly what his lips feel like on hers. They were soft like velvet and he smelled like heaven.

He kissed her like it was his last breath, desperate to know if she breathed the same air as him. Deep and wanting, the intensity building with every press of his lips to hers. It was urgent, yet soft—he didn’t lick into her mouth, just stays on her lips. And man, can the boy kiss.

Her hand moved from his shoulder to his neck and wound through the hair there, a breathless moan leaving his mouth, and she wondered if he liked it when she pulled his hair.

So when he finally did lick his tongue against the seam of her lips and she widened them, she pulled, ever so softly.

And he moaned deeply, his grip on her waist tightening.

Nora wanted to kiss him for the rest of time.

Her other hand moved from his elbow to his back, fingers finding the material of his shirt and pulling him closer to her. Her fingers curled into the cotton, the sweat from them dancing on her palm but she didn’t care because she wanted him closer. She could feel every inch of his body flush with hers and she loved it—the way he felt against her, the way her skin was lit on fire, the way she wanted to drink purely Harry until the end of time.

“Nora,” he said, pulling back, allowing both of them to catch their breath, “do you want to come upstairs?”

She hesitated. It’s not that she didn’t want to—she’d love to fuck this boy until the dawn of time—but she had no idea where her friends were, and she would rather not let them think she’d been kidnapped. And if she thought about it, she knew she probably shouldn’t. She barely knew Harry and she had class twice a week with him, and most likely a discussion section on top of it. If it didn’t work out, she had to see him constantly for the rest of the semester, which was not ideal.

His finger raised her chin slightly so she had to look into his eyes. “I’m not trying to get you to sleep with me, by the way. I just want to get out of this fuckin’ sweaty crowd so I can kiss you properly and not worry if I’m going to be kicked in the back. And if you don’t want to, that’s totally fine too. I’ll stay here if you’d rather that. Or we don’t have to kiss at all—I don’t want you to do anything you have to.” He was rambling, unsure of his standing. Her hesitation had thrown him for a loop and Harry wasn’t sure if she even wanted to kiss him at all anymore. Was she into it? He thought she was from the way she pulled him towards her, but from the hesitation he wasn’t sure and he wanted to be sure.

“No, it’s not that,” she said, and his fears were immediately pushed aside. “I just want to let my friends know where I am first.”

“Oh,” Harry said. “Where are they?”

Nora looked around the crowd, but couldn’t catch sight of them anywhere. “When I left they were here. Lemme try texting them.” She pulled out her phone and found a string of texts from the group chat with Maddy, Taylor and Lauren discussing the fact that she was making out with Harry Styles and that they were fine and to do whatever she wanted, that they’d find her when they were going to go and check in. Truly the best friends of all time. She quickly texted them that she was going upstairs to Harry’s room and then she looked back up at him, his lips quirked in a smile. Nora wondered if he saw the texts, but then decided there’s no reason to freak out—he was making out with her, after all. “Upstairs?”

“Upstairs.” His fingers wound through hers and he led the way out of the crowd, dodging groups of frantic dancers and couples making out just as they had been. He navigated the crowd with ease, his tall frame putting him a head above most other people, and Nora just held onto his hand and let him lead her out of the crowd and up the stairs.

It was quieter on the second floor, a row of doors to bedrooms shut and soft music drifting out of some, the loud thud of the bass from the main floor less intense. Nora stayed close to Harry, her body magnetic to his. He led her down the hall, telling her who lives in all the other rooms, pointing to the bathroom as they passed it, just in case she needed it. Then, they were standing outside a room with his name on the door and he turned to her.

“You sure you’re okay with this?” He asked her, searching for confirmation, which he found when Nora nodded.

He pushed open the door, a soft light from his bedside table lamp illuminating bits of the room. Nora saw posters of bands, a minimalist map of Milan, and stacks upon stacks of books lining the walls. She stepped inside and he shut the door behind her, and she continued to investigate the room, taking stock of the various pieces of information she could collect from its decoration. A guitar leaned against the wall, sheets of paper next to it with scribblings on them—he was a musician—and a basket of cleanly folded laundry lies in the corner so she knew he was clean and tidy. He had photos of his family on his dresser, which warmed her heart, and a stereo in the corner with a stack of records next to it.

“What do you think?”

She turned to him. He was leaning against his door, a look of curiosity and a hint of fear on his face. They were still learning about each other, and he had exposed a huge part of who he is to her by letting her in here. “I think you like music and books.”

Harry just laughed. “Well, you’re right about that.”

He didn’t move from the door, so Nora decided to take the lead. She wanted to kiss this boy again, not have a conversation about his favorite book he read or the musician that transformed his understanding of music. She sat on the edge of his bed, leaned back on her hands, and gave Harry a look that screamed, “Come.”

And he does, a quirk in his brow. He stood between her widened legs, brushed a thumb across her jawline, and then leand down to reconnect their lips. Nora softened immediately, her hands begging for purchase on his skin, and pulled him towards her. Harry kicked off his boots and then gently pushed Nora up on the bed, following her, the desire written all over his face. He was about to lean down to kiss her again when Nora said, “Wait. Shirt?”

He pulled it over his head without a second thought, and Nora relished in the sight of his tattoos. The butterfly on his abdomen she’d seen before, the swallows on his pecs, the ship on his arm that she hadn’t. The small musings up and down his arms that she would look closer at later, she decided. In the mean time, she pulled him in by his neck and he collapsed into her, his weight a welcome feeling against her body. Nora widened her knees and hooked her ankles around him, resting them on his lower back. The pressure pushed him closer to her core and she gasped at the feeling—she couldn’t help it. He was big. Bigger than she expected.

Harry stopped his assault on her neck and looked up at her. “This okay?”

“God yes,” she replied. “Keep going.”

He smiled, and returned his lips to her neck, pulling and prodding at her skin with his lips and his teeth, sucking what would be a hickey later onto the juncture of her neck and shoulder. Usually Nora despised hickeys, but she couldn’t find the reason to care right now. Her hands scrabbled at his skin, trying to find purchase, the feeling of him grinding slowly into her and his lips on her neck almost too much.

“Harry,” she said, gasping for air as he tugged at the neck of her shirt to gain more access, “roll over.”

She unhooked her ankles and he rolled, pliant to her words. She straddled him immediately, loving the view of Harry Styles spread out beneath her. His hair was tousled from her fingers, lips swollen from her kisses, chest rising fast from her. She felt him beneath where she sat on his abdomen and it made her smile. Then, she pulled her shirt off and she watched him look at her.

Nora hadn’t always loved her body. She remembered the first time she ever took off her shirt, the boy looking at her didn’t know what to say or do with her breasts, and she hated it. She wondered if they were too big—girls in films have breasts, but never ones that were like hers. The size that hurt when she ran and gave her back aches. The size her friends didn’t really understand—the size Nora hated as a teenager. But in the past two years she decided to stop giving a fuck. She thought she was beautiful and she was done letting what other people think of her change that. And when she let Harry look at her, she was wondering what he was thinking. Did he think she was as beautiful as she does?

And then he told her. “Good lord,” he said, voice hoarse, “you’re gorgeous.” He leaned up and kissed her cleavage that’s exposed, Nora’s fingers finding a home in his curls.

“Fuck, H,” she whined at the feeling of his lips on her tender skin. She bent down and captures his lips with her own, pressing him back onto his back, loving their bare skin on one another. They were battling for both air and dominance, and when Nora’s lips started traveling down his neck and onto his chest, Harry thought he stopped breathing for a second. She sucks a hickey on his pec, right above the swallow, and then blew on it and he practically shivered from the sensitivity.

He could feel her traveling southward and even though he wanted her to suck him off—good lord did he want her too—he stopped her. He tugged her up, reattaching their lips, a “C’mere,” whispered between them. He wanted to kiss her for longer, he wanted to drag this out as long as possible. And also, quite honestly, if she kept occasionally rolling her hips like she was doing he might come from that alone. She was gorgeous, yes in the way she looked, but also the confidence she exuded and the way she told him what she wantd and the way she was tracing up and down his arms and sides with her fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake.

He was fucked, because this girl had managed to turn him into putty after knowing him for just one week.

And then she started really moving her hips back and forth. Nora knew what it wa doing to him and she loved it—loved the knowledge that she was the one making him feel this way and she wanted to see how far it would go, how far she could take it. So as she kissed him, their lips moving in sync, she rolled her hips on his, grinding down every once and a while, drinking up every breathless moan leaving Harry’s lips, savoring each grunt, and when he let out a low, “Nora, please, fuck,” she knew she had him in her hand.

She smiled against his mouth and turned her head, leaning down to his ear, and whispered, “Tell me what you want, H.” He grunted and she rolled her hips again, the seam of his jeans rubbing against her clit in a way that sent shivers down her spine. “What do you want?” She asked, her voice low and dripping with desire.

“You,” he said finally. “Fuck, Nora, I want you.”

Nora kisses his cheek and then makes her way down his chest, making a path right to his dick. Harry had given up any contemplation of waiting, he couldn’t wait anymore. He wanted her so bad it genuinely physically hurt. He needed to come and he needed to come now. Nora popped the button on his jeans and Harry lifted his hips to let her pull them down.

Then, a series of knocks came from the door.

Nora’s head whipped up and so did Harry’s. No one knocked on his door usually. They knew he was private, that he didn’t like people in his space unless he invited them.

“Nora?” Maddy’s voice could be heard over the dull throbbing of the bass from downstairs, and Nora let out a sigh. “We’re heading out babes.”

Nora looked between Harry and the door. “Give me one second,” she called back to Maddy, her eyes not leaving Harry. “I’m going to go,” she told him. She had shit to do tomorrow. But also, she wanted to make sure she was not making a mistake by hooking up with Harry, since she was going to be seeing him all the time for the rest of the semester. She wanted to think about this, because she wasn’t expecting this to happen and needed to take a moment to consider the repercussions of her actions. She barely knew Harry—what would he do if they fuck? Would he ignore her for the rest of the semester? He might be nice, but he was still a fratboy, and Nora had enough experience in that department to know the norm wasn’t to bring a girl flowers after.

“Everything okay?” He asked, sitting up as she snatched her shirt from the other side of the bed where had she discarded it.

She nodded. “I just need a second to…think.”

Harry considered this. He wondered if she was thinking the same thing he is—that they have class together for the rest of the semester and it was probably not the best idea to fuck your classmate the first weekend of the semester. “Okay,” he replied. “No worries. I’ll, uh, see you in class, I guess?”

Nora was tugging on her booties and she looked at him with a small smile on her face. “Bright and early Monday morning.”

Harry got up, rebuttoning his pants. As Nora was about to open the door, he grabbed her wrist, acting on pure instinct, and pressed a kiss against her lips. It was softer than the ones before, a simple kiss that was a goodbye, but also a question. A question begging, “What’s next?” Nora broke the kiss, and with a touch to the hickey left behind above the swallow, she was out the door and gone.

Harry stumbled to his bed, his body hitting the mattress with a sigh.

He was so, so royally fucked.

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

i hope you guys enjoyed this! this is my first fic and i’m super excited about her. :) let me know what you think of my lil frat boy harry. there is more coming soon. xoxo

ask me about fratboy!harry here | masterlist here

920 notes · View notes

kalypsichor · 4 years

Text

ménage à trois [ paul mccartney x reader x john lennon ]

summary: There’s only one bed and none of you speak French.

prompt: k hear me out mclennon sandwich BUT ITS ON THE PARIS TRIP SO IS JUST YOU THREE IN THE TINIEST BEDROOM + a request for reader’s wet dreams waking paul up warnings: this is a threesome babey 🥪🥪🥪

masterlist

guess who’s never had a threesome? me. guess who accidentally drank a shit ton of coffee and didn’t go to bed till six am writing this?? also me. i’d appreciate any feedback y’all have bc @spaceyantique beta’d this for me like a darling but my illiteracy knows no bounds

There’s only one bed and none of you speak French.

Paul tries, but between his wild hand gestures and the receptionist’s increasingly confused looks, he’s getting nowhere. John more or less just flirts with her. You tolerate about five minutes of it before dragging them away from the front desk.

“Sorry,” you offer to the receptionist, and you’re pretty sure it’s the first word she’s understood in the whole exchange.

The three of you stand at the foot of the bed for a bit and just. Stare at it. The hotel room is long but narrow, with the bed at the very end of it literally touching three walls. Whoever designed it was obviously at the end of his wits. The bed would be roomy for one person, cozy for two, but three? That’s pushing it. Still, there’s not even a couch in the room, so when you all look at each other it’s with a wordless understanding.

“I sleep on the right,” John says. He claims his spot as such and immediately stretches out, not even taking off his shoes. You wrinkle your nose but choose not to say anything. Paul wrinkles his nose and does.

“Don’t be disgusting, John.” Paul toes off his boots and clambers onto the left side. “There’s a lady present.”

John grins and twists around, dangling his feet in Paul’s face. “Talking about yourself in the third person, eh?”

You’ve locked the bathroom door by the time they start fighting but the walls are thin. There’s a thump and a shrill screech. Laughter. More shouting. Your reflection frowns back at you, eyes tired and hair a mess, and you take your time showering. In true European fashion, it’s a tiny, miserable affair. Your elbows keep knocking into the walls. The water runs cold before you even finish shampooing. It’s a mad dash to put on your pajamas before you freeze your tits off—except even that goes awry when you realize you forgot to pack them. The only things you can find are a soft tee shirt and shorts, which are a bit shorter than you’d like to be wearing but will have to do.

To top it all off, when you step out of the bathroom, they’re still lobbing shoes and insults.

“Boys, please! It’s one in the morning!” Two pairs of eyes flicker to the clock on the wall, then back at you. “Can you at least pretend to be adults?”

Paul has the decency to look a little scolded. John, on the other hand, leers at you.

“I think someone cut a few centimeters off your shorts, love. Not that I’m complaining.” He winks and you decidedly push down the fluttering in your stomach.

All in all, it takes another hour for the three of you to get to bed. Paul insists on showering first, which leads to another argument that takes five matches of rock-paper-scissors to be resolved.

(Paul gets the first one. John calls a two out of three and wins that. Paul calls a three out of five and wins that. John accuses him of cheating and gets called a sore loser. You end up shoving Paul into the bathroom while John is looking for another shoe to throw.)

If your mother knew you were squeezing into a bed with two boys, she’d throw a fit. Especially if she knew that you couldn’t stop thinking about how rosy Paul’s cheeks looked when he stepped out of the shower, or the fact that John is bloody shirtless. No, it’s best that none of this gets back to your folks at home.

“Comfortable?” John asks. Both boys are facing outwards and you’re lying on your back, trying to ignore the warm bodies on either side of you.

Paul shifts his arm and nearly elbows you in the boobs. “I feel like a sardine,” he says.

“Try sleeping in the middle,” you retort. “It’s like being in a sandwich.”

That earns a laugh from John, which turns into a contagious yawn.

“We should go to bed,” someone says, but you’re already drifting off.

***

John’s a pretty heavy sleeper, so when he wakes up and it’s still dark out he’s very confused.

He’s also a lot warmer. Sometime in the night, John had turned and pulled you flush against his chest. His nose is pressed into your hair, one leg thrown over your hip. John rather likes the feeling of cuddling so close, but he knows it’s not the most appropriate position. He goes to move when he hears a quiet noise.

“John…”

… oh. So that’s what woke him up.

You’re moaning, soft little sighs and whimpers that go straight to John’s cock. You’re having a wet dream… about him. He wants to pull away, knows that this is wrong, but then you’re grinding against him and all thoughts fly out the window. John’s hips find yours and he has to bite his lip to keep from groaning. God, he’s rutting against you like a teenager but it feels so good he can’t even bring himself to be embarrassed.

“John?”

John’s eyes snap open and he freezes. Your voice is different, clearer. You’re awake now. It’s like a cold bucket of water has been dumped over his head and he jolts away from you.

“Sorry, I didn’t—“

His apology cuts off because you’re suddenly moving, pushing back into him. The soft curve of your ass presses right against John’s cock. All the air in his lungs rushes out and he gasps out your name.

“Is—is this okay?” he asks. He wants to make sure, needs to.

“Yes,” you reply. It’s more of a plea, and it’s all John needs to start moving again.

The hand that’s on your stomach trails down and slips under the waistband of your panties. John groans when his fingers find your slick folds.

“Fuck, you’re soaked.” John rocks his hips into yours. Your hair is still damp from showering and when he breathes in, the scent—lavender—sends a rush of arousal through him. “Were you dreaming about me?”

You can only whine in response because John is slipping a finger into your cunt. His thumb finds your clit, rubs gentle circles that send flames of pleasure licking up your body. It’s already so much, too much, not enough.

“Didn’t know you were such a filthy girl,” John growls and you arch into his touch. “What was it about, hm? Were you dreaming about this? About getting fingered while Paul is sleeping right there?” His words tear a gasp from your lips. “You’re gonna have to be quiet or you’ll wake him up, birdie. Unless that’s what you want…”

“It’s a little too late for that.”

John can’t see very far, but he doesn’t need to in order to make out Paul’s face on the other side of you. His pupils are blown wide, eyes trained on John’s hand still moving under your clothes. And John… likes it. Being watched. It should be weird, should feel wrong because Paul’s his best mate, but then his eyes find John’s and the hungry look in them tears a hot blaze of arousal through him.

Somehow, his voice is steady when he speaks. “You want a taste?”

Paul’s mouth falls open and he nods. Without a second thought, John pulls his hand from your pussy and lifts it to Paul’s lips.

The sight of Paul licking your juices from John’s fingers is quite possibly the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

Second only to the look on Paul’s face when you hesitantly wrap your hand around his cock and start jerking him off.

“Fuck,” he groans. His eyes flutter closed, head tips back and bares the curve of his neck. John wants nothing more than to bite into it, to mark Paul, but you beat him to it. And John, who’s never liked feeling left out, lets his hand drift back down to you. This time, he curls two fingers into your cunt. You clench around him and your grip involuntarily tightens on Paul, whose hips jerk forward at the feeling.

God, how John wishes he could see your face. You’re sure to be so pretty, cheeks flushed, lips parted around gasps, eyes watching Paul’s cock in your hand. Still, he can hear the noises you’re making, and that’s almost just as good.

It’s not the most comfortable position, really. Your wrist feels awkward at this angle, with Paul being so close to you. And John keeps breathing in some of your hair. But the intimacy, the heat, the rush of adrenaline makes all that fade away. The filthy sound of John thrusting his fingers in and out of your cunt, Paul’s high, almost feminine sighs. John’s grunts as he rocks against your body, breathe hot on the nape of your neck.

Paul gasps something unintelligible but you know what he’s trying to say. You start pumping him even faster, letting the sound of his cries spur you on. You want to taste them, you think, and it doesn’t make sense but you lean forward anyway and capture Paul’s lips in yours.

The movement changes your angle. John’s fingers curl against something in you that burns white hot, electric in your veins. His thumb presses into your clit and then you’re cumming, moans falling from your lips to Paul’s as he follows you over the edge.

“Fucking hell,” Paul breathes.

You can only nod. Your mind is still floating somewhere in the stratosphere. You can’t remember the last time you felt like this, both high and irrevocably grounded, pressed tight between two bodies thrumming with warmth.

“I’m gonna… clean up a bit,” you mumble when you’ve caught your breath. While you stumble off towards the bathroom, Paul reaches and finds John’s face in the dark.

Despite the fact that he’s just had a threesome, John suddenly feels shy. It’s intimate in a different way, how Paul’s fingers trace the bridge of his nose, outline the curve of his lips. And when you come back, weight dipping the mattress slightly, the warmth of your body settling behind him is so gentle that John is scared he’s only imagining it.

Paul doesn’t say anything, just pulls John forward and kisses him. It’s a chaste brush of the lips, but combined with the feeling of you nipping at his bare shoulder sets John’s nerves ablaze.

“I—“

You shush him and run a hand down his spine, thumbing the waistband of his joggers. “Just relax, John. It’s okay.”

Whether it’s your words or the soothing touch, John’s body almost melts, curving into yours. At the same time, his lips seek out Paul, who pulls back with a glint in his eyes.

“You haven’t even come yet, have you?” Paul asks, though he already knows the answer.

“Does it fucking look like I have?” John grumbles. Your hand trails across his waist and cups his erection and suddenly John can’t come up with anything witty anymore. He keens and bucks into the touch.

“So this is what it takes to get you to shut up.” You giggle when John’s attempt at protesting is muffled by Paul’s mouth.

“Guess we should do this more often, then.”

#john lennon x reader smut #paul mccartney x reader smut #beatles fanfic #beatles x reader smut #mclennon x reader #kalwrites #the sandwich strikes again #more filth for y'all #🥪

315 notes · View notes

stxn-the-mxn · 5 years

Text

I Love You, Too || 2019!Reddie X Daughter!Reader

A/N: I combined two requests, cause I wanted to put them together :))) Hope you don’t mind

Request: hi! i absolutely LOVE your writings! especially the daughter!reader ones. i was wondering if i could request something? like where the reader is eddie and richie are married and they adopted a daughter. she’s has a stutter and is picked on for it at school. she comes home one day crying and her dad’s comfort her when she says she hates her stutter and they tell her that it’s not a bad thing and she should embrace it and not be ashamed? just soft family fluff! thank you -Anon

Could you do a semi sweet but angst fic? Richie and Eddie get out of Derry together and get married, adopt a little girl (the reader) and they return to derry with her. She’s around 7/8 years old and penny wise gets her, they go to save her with the rest of the losers but Eddie still dies 🥺 (my baby) but sweet moments of the reader meeting the gang and everything and sweet moments with her papa’s. Sorry if it sounds kind of dumb ❤️❤️❤️ - @spidey-starky

!!WARNING: HOMOPHOBIC SLURS, IT CH2 SPOILERS, BLOOD!!

***

You were pushed up against your locker, Jacob holding you by your shirt collar. Most people in this situation would maybe yell out for help, try to get someone’s attention. But you were used to it, plus school had ended and barely anyone was still here.

This was a regular occurrence. The name-calling, the mockery, everything that a middle school bully could do, she had seen and heard before. It didn’t affect her anymore.

Jacob would always do this, maybe steal something of yours, typical bullying business. But today, he went too far.

After the school play, Jacob had seen your dads picking you up. He had found that perfect bullying material. A stutter and the daughter of two gays? Perfect victim, he thought.

“Come on, Stuttering Y-Y/N!” He mocked your stutter, as you rolled your eyes. “Aww, is the stuttering joke getting old? Well, how bout we talk about your fag fathers?”

Your eyes widened. Shit.

“You’re probably just like them.” Tears welled in your eyes. “And, hey, that means you’re adopted! Not even your real parents wanted you so they had to hand you over to some fucking gays! So, not only do you have a dumbass fucking stutter, your parents are fucking gay!”

Jacob smirked as he saw the tears dripping down your face. It had taken a while, but finally, he’d found what broke you. You couldn’t speak, too overwhelmed by everything happening so quickly. A part of you wished you were just getting bullied for the stutter.

“I don’t know if you noticed, Stutter Fag, but your kind isn’t appreciated around here.”

He threw you to the ground, as you landed on your nose, causing it to bleed. Jacob walked away, leaving school. You waited till you knew he was gone before grabbing your bag, picking up all the papers that had slipped out.

How long had your dad been waiting out in the parking lot? Checking your watch, you discovered he’d probably been there for at least ten minutes. Shit, he wasn’t gonna be happy…

Running out to the car, you forgot about the blood dripping down your face. You threw your bag into the back of the car, before hopping into the front seat, being met with the concerned face of your father.

“Y/N? What the hell happened to you? Jeez, wait til Eds sees you.” He handed you a few tissues, not noticing as you used them for your eyes and not your nose. He started the car, driving back to your rather large home.

“Y/N?” Your dad placed a hand softly on your knee. “What happened after school today?”

“N-N-Nothing. Just got t-too excited and r-r-ran into a w-wall.”

You could see on his face that he didn’t believe you. Lying to your father wasn’t something you were good at. He raised an eyebrow, which meant that he expected you to keep talking.

“It w-was just J-J-Jacob. H-He stayed a-a-after class a-and, uh, he m-m-m-might have, uh, b-b-bullied me.” You whispered, mentally cursing yourself for stuttering so much.

That stupid fucking stutter was the cause of all your problems.

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry… Look, right now, we’ll push it aside and talk about it later when Papa Bear is home.” Your dad laughed as your face contorted into disgust. He knew you hated when he called Eddie that.

“All jokes aside, we’ll discuss this later. Just relax, and maybe clean up your nose a bit more.”

***

You sat at the dinner table, eyes glued to the plate in front of you. Eddie’s eyes remained on you, concern etched on his face. Richie, however, simply smiled warmly at you.

“Y/N, baby, you’re awfully quiet,” Eddie spoke, his head tilted slightly in confusion.

“Honey, it’s time to talk.” Richie reminded you of the conversation in the car, and with a sigh, you thought of how to explain the situation.

“Uh, d-dads, after s-s-school today, t-this kid was, u-uh, teasing m-me about m-m-m-my stutter.” You couldn’t tell the whole truth. You couldn’t tell them that. Just the thought of what Jacob said brought tears to your eyes.

The tears began streaming down your face.

Eddie left his seat, pulling you into his arms. You cried into his shoulder, and Richie piled on top. Eddie’s arms were wrapped protectively around you, and Richie rubbed calming circles on your back.

“Your stutter is so perfectly you, baby. You shouldn’t feel ashamed of it. Embrace it.”

Your tears slowed as you heard Richie’s phone ring, his ringtone being that stupid Pina Colada song. At first, he ignored it, staying with you, but by the sixth consecutive ring, you told him to answer it.

“I’m hungry, anyway.” You smiled, wiping the final tears from your face. With a forehead kiss from Eddie and a final hug from Richie, they moved away, Richie answering his phone.

“Yello? Huh? Oh. Right, yeah. Yeah, cool. See you soon, I guess?” His face went white as he hung up the phone, and he ran out of the room. Seconds later you heard him in the bathroom, the sound making you cover your ears. Eddie ran to the bathroom, and you could hear him checking over Richie.

Eddie’s phone rang suddenly, and you picked it off the table, bringing it to the bathroom, where Eddie was helping Richie off the floor, moving him away from the toilet bowl.

“Dad? Your phone is ringing.” You handed the phone to the shorter male, before scurrying back to the table. What the fuck was going on?

They stayed in the bathroom for another ten minutes and when they came back, you knew something was wrong.

“Baby, we need to talk.”

***

Last night at the Chinese restaurant had been an interesting event, to say the least. It had been a long trip to Derry, so you had been half asleep when entering the restaurant. An hour into the dinner, you were on the verge of sleep.

Richie and Eddie were trying so hard to keep you awake, but you were twelve and had been on a plane for five hours, which didn’t seem like much but it was a very rocky flight. Eventually, Richie and Eddie caved and allowed you to fall asleep, leaning against Eddie’s arm.

“She’s adorable,” Beverly said, smiling at the passed out girl. The other Losers hummed in agreement, Richie and Eddie sharing a proud smile.

“H-How long h-h-have you ha-had her?” Bill asked, realising afterwards that maybe he could’ve phrased that differently.

“Since she was only two, actually. So we’ve had her for ten years, now.” Richie pushed the hair out of your eyes, a soft smile on his face.

“Tell us about her.” Stan smiled, his usual demeanour shattered by the precious girl at the table. Everyone at the table was simply enamoured with this little girl.

“Uh, we adopted her a year after we got married.” Eddie grew flustered, as the Losers smirked at him and Richie.

“She’s literally the perfect kid!” Richie chimed in, “She’s got good grades, she doesn’t get involved with anything bad or stupid, and she’s just amazing. We love her so much.”

The other Losers felt like they would burst from the amount of adoration they had for this girl. The night continued on, everyone getting quite drunk, except Stan, who felt the need to be the one sober person.

He was rolling his eyes at Richie and Eddie drunkenly flirting in the corner when he noticed you stirring from your spot on the table. You sat up, blinking a few times, growing accustomed to the fluorescent glow of the lights above.

Stan was the only one to notice you wake up and decided to separate you from the drunken activities.

“Hey, Y/N, how was your sleep?” He asked, loudly, as to maybe alert the others that you were awake.

“Yeah, i-i-it was pretty g-good. I’m no-not as t-tired now.” Stan’s eyes widened in surprise. You had a stutter?

“Oh, honey, you’re awake!’ Richie announced loudly, everyone looking at you and Stan.

“She has a stutter?” Stan asked, and you immediately felt tears brim in your eyes.

Richie and Eddie looked worried, while the others looked intrigued. You felt everyone’s eyes on you, and it was far too much. You ran from the room, your dads calling after you.

“Did I say the wrong thing?” Stan asked worriedly.

“She’s very sensitive about the stutter. She gets bullied a lot. So, we don’t talk about it.” Eddie explained, before running out to find you, Richie not too far behind.

The other Losers turned to Bill, their stuttering friend.

He had an understanding look on his face, having lived with a stutter for so many years of his life. But he had overcome it for so many years, so surely he could help you.

The Losers returned to the table, waiting patiently for Richie and Eddie to return, you by their side. Minutes passed, and no one walked through the door, except for the waitress who placed a bowl of fortune cookies on the table.

Just as she was leaving, a panicked Eddie and Richie came through the door.

But you weren’t with them.

Their faces held panic, fear, and everything in between.

“Guys? Where’s Y/N?” Ben asked, his voice shaky.

“W-we don’t know. We looked everywhere, but we can’t find her.” Eddie started crying, Richie holding him close to his chest.

Mike stepped forward, grabbing Richie by the shoulders. “We’ll find her. She can’t have gone too far. She’s probably in the bathroom.”

“O-oh, yeah. The bathroom.” He only sounded half-convinced, but Richie and Eddie would take anything to put their minds at ease.

“W-we were gi-given fortune c-c-cookies,” Bill suggested quietly.

Everyone sat back at the table, avoiding looking at the empty chair between Eddie and Richie. They all picked up a cookie, one still sitting in the bowl.

They all cracked theirs open, each finding a single piece of paper.

“The hell? Mine just says ‘Time” Richie murmured, the cookies really not distracting him from the disappearance of his daughter.

The others all looked at their fortunes, not noticing Eddie’s shaking hands and terrified expressions.

“W-wait. Give me y-y-your paper.” Bill said as the Losers put their papers down. All except Eddie.

They scuffled about, finding that their words formed a sentence.

“Oh shit. Oh, fuck!” Richie yelled, seeing the sentence forming. He looked over at his husband, begging him for the paper. Eddie held it tighter, but upon seeing the desperate look on his love's face, he placed the paper down.

Tears streamed down his face, as the other saw what was on his paper.

Bye Bye Stuttering Y/N! Time To Float!

“No. No. This isn’t fucking happening. We have to go get her.” Richie stood from his seat, Eddie following.

“No!” Mike yelled. “There’s something we have to do first.”

***

You were floating, but they couldn’t do anything, not yet. First, they had to kill that fucking clown. It hurt Richie and Eddie to just leave you there, floating above the ground, almost dead.

“Hey, fuckface! You wanna play truth or dare? Here’s a truth; You’re a sloppy bitch! Yeah, that’s right. Let’s dance! Yippee-kay-yay motherfuc-” Everyone watched as Richie got caught in the deadlights.

Eddie screamed, but not a frightful scream, it was more of a “back off my husband you bitch” scream. He ran forward, throwing the pole Bev had gave him as hard as possible. It struck Pennywise in the mouth, sending IT backwards, ending up impaled on one of the spikes.

Richie fell to the ground, breathing heavily. What the fuck had he just seen?

Eddie came crashing down on top of him, straddling Richie’s waist. Not an uncommon position for them, but that wasn’t relevant right now. Eddie leaned down, grabbing Richie’s face and slamming their lips together.

Richie closed his eyes, melting as he always did when Eddie kissed him. His eyes opened, however, when the salty taste of Eddie’s lips became metallic. Richie froze, not even flinching when Eddie splurted blood onto his face.

“R-Richie?” Eddie spoke softly, blood trickling down his chin. The pain in his eyes matched that of Richie’s heart. Richie couldn’t look down, because he knew what he would see if he let his eyes travel.

And then he remembered, the first time he had entered this fucking house. The first time he lost Eddie. That fucking demonic version of his love. The fucking black shit that had flowed from his mouth. That image that was identical to this. That motherfucking clown who had planned everything to be like this.

“Eddie? Eddie, love?” His pleas were useless, as Eddie was pulled away from him, and flung about by the clown who ruined every fucking good thing he’d ever had.

IT threw Eddie from its claw, sending him towards the ground, right beneath where you were floating. Fuck, he couldn’t do this.

But he had to.

For Eddie.

And for you.

***

Richie got up from beside Eddie, who was barely alive at this point, but Richie could always see the life in his eyes. Eddie watched him leave through the dancing black spots in his vision.

He could feel the familiar fabric of Richie’s jacket in his hands and found one of his hands in the pocket. His hand brushed against what felt like paper, and with as much strength as he had, slid it out of the jacket.

Unfolding it slowly, he saw a pencil drawing, one that you had done as a very young child. It was of the three of you, smiling, and for a toddler’s drawing, it was extremely good. You had labelled each person, though it was obvious who was who.

Up the top, in messy crayon handwriting, were the words “I love my daddies.” with two pink hearts sloppily drawn at both ends of the sentence.

“I love you too, baby”

#richie tozier #richie tozier x reader #richie tozier x daughter!reader #eddie kaspbrak #eddie kaspbrak x reader #eddie kaspbrak x daughter!reader #reddie #reddie x reader #reddie x daughter!reader #it #it x reader #it 2 #it 2 x reader #it chapter 2 #it chapter 2 x reader #the losers club #the losers club x reader #losers club #losers club x reader

765 notes · View notes

thefantasygirl3 · 4 years

Text

Negaverse stories: Megavolt's backstory

Genre/warnings: Comedy, Slice of life, Action, Drama.

Word count: 3 725

Summary: After the events of Darkwing Duck coming to the Negaverse and helping the now called “Darkwing Ducks” save st. Canard, the four heroes decided to adopt the adorable little Gosalyn, buy a house and start a life together. But the little duckling is curious over how all her dads became heroes to start with, so she asks them to tell her that story.

Notes: This is the first of four chapters, for each of the Negaverse’s Friendly four, starting off with Megavolt’s backstory. Link to other parts of the story: 2 - Quackerjack. 3 - Bushroot. 4 - Liquidator.

A hero's backstory is really something else. It is the reason for who they become. For being a crime fighting symbol of justice. And that backstory can be exciting and inspiring, it can be tragic and heart-wrenching or it could just be downright underwhelming. But whatever the tone of the story, it is the most interesting thing a hero got to tell about themselves

In the city of st. Carnard, in the negaverse, night was approaching and covering the city in the pale moonlight. It was about time for all the kids to get themselves ready for bedtime and for the parents to tuck their kids into bed so they can drift off into dreamland. This was the same for the Darkwing ducks' household. After the help of The original Darkwing Duck, the group formerly known as The Friendly Four were able to restore peace to the city, adopt Negaduck's kid and get themselves a house to live in, like any regular family of four dads and a daughter. It was in this house that the very tired looking rat was trying to be like every other parent and settle his duck daughter into bed so she can finally doze off.

Gosalyn was bouncing around in her bed, struggling against Megavolt's attempts to get her into her proper place in bed. Head against pillow, body under the blanket, still and calm. But boy was she making that really difficult. "I don't want to sleep! Not if you're gonna make me go to camp tomorrow!" she whined and clutched tightly onto the bed's bottom railing as her dad was trying to pull her back into place on the bed. "But hun! It is obligatory! You. Have. To. G-go!" he groaned as he tried his best to pry her off of the foot of her bed, but lost his grip and flew back into the wall. While she was free, the duck girl quickly got off of the bed and hid herself underneath the bed, trying to do whatever she could to not have to go to bed.

As the electrified rodent regained his composure, he spotted his daughter hiding in the shadows of the underside of her bed. He sighed and crouched down beside her hiding spot, looking at her exhaustedly as he was too worn out from her struggling to try and get her back into bed again "Come on, Gosalyn. You can't skip out on the field trip by staying up all night" he tried to reason with her as he sat himself down beside her, showing he was no longer going to wrangle with her. The pair of eyes peering back at him responded with a grumpy "You're just saying that so I'll go to sleep and then you can force me into the forest with all the bugs and bears and snakes and moose!" and then huffed sharply. The rat sighed at her resistance, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he tried to think up something to say.

"Please, hun. You're only punishing yourself by doing this. Whether you sleep or not, you're going on the field trip" he groaned and sank down further onto the floor. "Papa said I didn't need to go!" Gosalyn pointed out as she crawled out from under the bed to pout at her dad on the floor. "You know very well that Bushroot can't say no to you when you make that face at him! His decision is invalid!" he scowled at her as he sat back up and moved to sit cross-legged in front of her. All she did was puff up her cheeks at him and cross her arms with a mad grunt. Letting out a sigh, Megavolt tilted his head back and stared up at the roof, until an idea suddenly hit him and he lit up like a light bulb.

"... How about we make a deal then?" he asked and looked over at his daughter, a small grin growing on his face. She just gave him a suspicious look, not sure if she would like this "deal". The adult stood up from the floor, saying "If you promise you will go to bed and go on the field tomorrow, I will give you the best gift I can". Crawling out from under the bed, the little duck looks up at him curiously. "A doll?" she asked. "Much better" he responded to her. "A doll house?!" she then inquired while scuttling up onto the bed. "Even better!" he then told her and sat down beside her on the bed. "A HORSE?!?" she then shouted in excitement, throwing her hands up in the air. "O-Ok. Not THAT good! We're not made of money" he chuckled as he then put a hand on her shoulder to calm her down.

"I'm going to tell you the story of how I became a hero, if you promise me right now that you'll go to bed and go on the field trip tomorrow" Megavolt suggested to her while trying to hide his smug, delighted grin from her. Gosalyn's face lit up and she jumped up on him, gripping onto his arm like a koala. "Really?! You'll tell me your backstory?!" she asked as she stared at him with big, sparkling eyes, full of hope. "Maybe… if i hear those two magic words" her dad said as he looked down at her expectantly. Immediately, faster than a lightning bolt, she let go of him and shot over towards her spot in bed, getting comfy under her blankets. "I promise, dad!" she said and looked at him with her cute, innocent eyes. He chuckled at her and reached out his hand, patting her head before clearing his throat, getting ready to start his story.

So it all started pretty much in high school. I was a very talented and smart teen, my grades very high, just like my ego. I thought so highly of myself, as if no one could be smarter or more successful than me. I was practically the biggest bully in the entire school. Or at the very least… the second biggest bully in the school… no one beat Drake when it came to malice.

"What?! You were a bully?! No way!" Little Gosalyn said in surprise as she was listening to him starting to tell the story. "Yes. I know. I am very ashamed of how I used to act. But let's continue the story, alright?" the rat told her before trying to recall the next part of the story.

I was the smartest kid I knew, with straight A's across the board. I used to hold my intellect above everyone else, especially the sport kids and the kids with average grades. I used to bully them relentlessly, taunt them about being losers, doomed to working in retail and fast food service jobs for the rest of their lives. I'd even make the more timid kids partake in some of my experiments, constantly telling them that that was all they would be good for.

Particularly this one kid. Hamilton Ham String.

He was… the typical stars-in-his-eyes sports fanatic that dreamed of becoming a football player some day. He would partake in every sport the school could offer and would constantly talk about the sports on TV. Now I was never that… involved with him, though it may sound like I knew him well. It's only that after that fateful day… he's been a big influence to me.

It was the day before prom. I had been working on this machine and I had finally managed to finalize a prototype. All that I needed was for someone to test it out. And obviously that wouldn't be me. So I headed out of the school workshop and took a look around for who would be my… lab rat. And there, down the hallway, I saw him. My favorite victim, Hamilton. He was throwing the pigskin around with a friend of his yelling stuff like "Radical catch right there, Daddy-o!" and "My shots are the most tubular around!"

"DAAAAAD!" Gosalyn whined as she pushed her dad, getting him to stop the story for the moment. "What?" he asked, completely clueless. "No one says stuff like that anymore!" she muttered annoyed and looked at him with an unsatisfied pout. "Really? It was the hottest lingo around when I was just a teen. Everyone said stuff like "Cool beans" and "Funky" at that time!" he said with a confused look on his face while scratching his head. "DAAAD!!" the little girl groaned as she physically cringed at his outdated slang. "Ok ok! Fine. I'll change it to be more modern, for you" he then chuckled at her, continuing on with his story short after.

Hamilton was laughing about his throwing skills, winking at a girl that was walking past. I saw her blush at him as he did, giggling and covering her face with her bag. I remember rolling my eyes so hard at them, finding their flirting so stupid and meaningless. Then again, I thought love was a ridiculous concept anyways.

But as he was giving his girlfriend those flirty glances, I just marched up to him and grabbed him by the back of his shirt. He seemed rather surprised by it and he looked at me, only able to say "Huh?!" as I pulled him down towards me. I could see his face turn into that usual nervousness as he realized just who it was that grabbed his attention, literally. "O-oh! Hey there, Mr. Sputterspark! E-everything alright today?" he asked me with this awkward grin on his face, as if trying to get on my good side. I didn't care, I just dragged him along towards the workshop while ignoring his protests and excuses. I could see his girlfriend across the way, I remember it very clearly, she looked terrified.

As we got inside the room, he kept telling me he didn't do anything and that he's sorry about whatever he did. I completely ignored him and pushed him forward onto the floor. "Shut up, pig" I growled at him as I observed him shuffle back to his feet, now quiet at my request. "I don't care about your low IQ attempts to excuse yourself! Just do as I say!" I growled and walked on over towards my machine. It was a simple treadmill, with a carpet fastened to the running belt and restraints added on to the handles. He just stared at it, confused and worried. Understandable. I didn't have the most promising track record.

"Um… wh-what is that, Elmo?" Hamilton asked me while trying to sneak over toward the door. I stopped him by grabbing his ear, saying "This, as simply explained as possible, is a machine meant to power this here light bulb. Through the power of static electricity, the friction against the carpet will generate powers high enough to give power to at least this entire room! Just imagine how much electricity could be generated with a full warehouse of these soft, metallic beauties!". I then turned around to him and started pulling him in close, so close our noses were squishing together. "And I just so happen to need someone to test it out for me" I told him very bluntly before forcing him over towards the machine.

Just as I started doing so, the boy began to struggle against my grip and begged for me to stop. "H-Hey! Let me go! Stop!" he pleaded with me, which I of course ignored, as if it was just hot wind blowing by my ears. But something very unexpected happened. I heard him let out a growl and yell "N-NO! I'M NOT GOING TO BE A GUINEA PIG AGAIN! STEP OFF!!!" before he ripped his arm loose and raised it up out of my reach. I was stunned into silence as all I could do was stare at him. I couldn't believe he told me off! It actually caused me to step back and feel a slight tad of fear stir up in my chest. Only a few seconds thereafter his hand came flying towards me and smacked me back. I was flung back towards my machine, landing on the carpeted belt and grunting in pain. As I tried to pull myself up from the belt, I grabbed onto the handles and the restraints I had built in immediately snapped shut over my arms. "Wh-What the-!" Was all I could manage to say before the treadmill started up and the belt began slowly building up speed. I did my best to pry my arms loose but I had done a little too well when building this thing.

It got faster and faster as my legs were forced to start running. I felt how, for the first time since starting High school, fear was taking over and I was panicking like crazy. I looked up at Hamilton and begged for him "Please! Help me! Hamilton, please save me!". But he just stared at me with this abject horror over his face. I'll never forget the look he had as he then turned away from me and ran out the door, leaving me to try and save myself and my poor poor legs.

"WHAT?!? He just LEFT you to run your legs off?! What a meanie!" Gosalyn said angrily as she stood up in bed, throwing her hands up in frustration. Megavolt lifted her up, laying her back down in bed before tucking her in once more. "You got to understand, sweetie, I was about to force him into the same situation I got myself into. He was probably scared over what I'd do after he just pushed me into my own torture machine" he sighed as he reached out and rubbed her head, smiling sadly as he was thinking about those times. "I kinda think I deserved worse than that. But either way, I'm thankful it happened…" he said softly, transitioning back into the story.

I remember running on that treadmill for almost an hour, my legs being at the brink of death. They felt like if I were to stop, the movement of the belt would pull them right along with it. I was sweating like a melting ice cube and panting so hard I could move a sailboat on my own. I think I even blacked out at a few points, only to be brought back to reality by my knees burning from the friction on them.

But after that painfully long hour, the lamp that was connected to the machine had begun to flicker violently from an overflow of electricity. After it had been unstably wavering for a long while, it finally broke. So did the rest of the lights in the room. I could even tell later that the hallway lights had lost power. Luckily, that power outage put a complete stop to the treadmill and released my arms at the same time, causing me to be flung forward and crash into the wall, covered in loose papers that were stuck to me, thanks to the overabundance of static electricity.

When I came to, I was laying on the floor, homeworks and instructions stuck to my face and making it harder to see. I removed them and saw even less than before, being surrounded by complete darkness. "... Hamilton? Hey… anyone there?" I called out weakly as I pushed myself up and wandered over towards the door. As I grabbed the handle, a sudden shock of energy shot through my body and I was paralyzed as it coursed through my limbs, until I was flung back into the wall once more. I stared at the door in shock as I was trying to come up with an explanation to myself.

After a few moments of dumbfounded silence, my eyes drifted down to my hands and I noticed slight sparks traveling between my fingertips. I started to panic and shook my hand around, yelling "GET IF OFF! GET IT OFF!" as I stumbled around the room. As I did so, a bolt of energy shot out of my fingers and hit my machine, causing it to fry for a moment, then explode. I just stopped right in my tracks and stared at it, surprisingly calm at that point. All I could think of was what in the world just happened to me. But then feelings of exhaustion suddenly hit me and all I could think to do was go home and crash in bed.

And so I did. I went home and went to bed, ignoring the weird things that happened until the next morning. I did some tests with my newfound electricity powers, after having blown up my toaster accidentally. I discovered that I had the power to store electricity in my body and discharge it at choice. It was an amazing discovery. A breakthrough in science! I had given myself superpowers! It was a revolutionary event! I had to tell someone! I had to go tell Hamilton! He was the one who had caused me to make such a discovery after all. I had been so busy testing my powers that I realized I was going to be late for prom. And prom would have been the perfect place to make this announcement. So I got dressed in the fanciest clothes I got and headed out towards school.

As I reached the big double doors leading into the gym, I didn't hesitate a second. I busted right through them and yelled "Can I please have everyone's attention!". The band on stage stopped the music and everyone in the room turned their heads to look over at me in shock and fear. They probably thought I was finally going to blow up the school or something. I reached up towards the singer on scene and snatched the microphone from him. "I have a very important announcement to make, everyone! I was involved in a scientific accident yesterday!" I began explaining as I scanned the room. I found Hamilton as I did so and could see the expression of absolute horror on his face, as if he was writing his will in his head already. "But listen! After this failed experiment caused a blackout in school, I discovered that I have gained superpowers! I can produce electricity from my body!" I then continued as I started approaching him and his girlfriend, smiling in excitement about the amazing news.

Everyone was quiet, just glaring at me as if I had gone mad. Then I heard Drake start to laugh like a hyena, falling over onto the floor from how funny he apparently found it. Quite a few other people joined in too in laughing at me. I started to panic and I could see Hamilton and his girlfriend start to back away from me, like I was a mad man. "N-no wait! It's true! I have superpowers! Look!" I told everyone as I then fired off a bolt of lightning, which bounced off of the punch bowl and fried Drake's back feathers. He looked extremely mad about it. Hamilton shivered while gripping his girlfriend, telling me in a shaking voice "A-alright! I believe you! P-please don't hurt me! I didn't mean to push you into that thing!". "H-huh?! No! Dude! I'm not going to hurt you! I wanted to thank you, actually! If you hadn't defended yourself against me, we might have never made this breakthrough! Do you realize how big this is?! How these powers could be used to help further technology?!" I rambled at him as I was getting myself worked up about all of the possibilities that had opened up to me.

"Yeah! Just think about all the security systems you could disable. All the cops you could electrocuted! All the electronic stores you could take over!" Drake suddenly spoke up as he stomped over to me and gripped me by my shirt. "W-what?!" was all I could respond with before he continued talking. "Your powers would be very useful. If I had those abilities, I'd be able to rob all the banks in st. Carnard! No… I could take over st. Carnard!" he started laughing in this diabolical voice, still having a tight grip on my shirt.

I gasped at his proposition and pulled his hand loose, yelling at him "No! I would never do something like that!". "Bah! What a waste of superpowers. Going to a nerd like you! Maybe it should have gone to the pig!" Drake growled as he poked at my chest, clearly trying to provoke me. But I just slapped his hand away, backing away towards the door. "You… I'll show all of you that my powers will be put to good use! I will use my powers for GOOD! I'll put an end to villains like you!" I yelled and pointed at him. Drake just walked right up to me and grabbed me by my throat, tossing me out the big double doors. "Sure thing, nerd. I'll show you that I'll take over st. Carnard, even if some super freaks try to stop me" he told me as the doors slowly closed behind me.

It was after that day that I decided to change my ways, to drop my bad attitude. I needed to become more like Hamilton. Someone who hoped for a better future, then would do what they could to make that dream a reality. I would become a hero.

"Wow… dad. That was amazing. You were so mean before, but now you're so sweet to my other dads!" Gosalyn muttered tiredly as she gave away a big yawn. Megavolt sighed with a big smile on his face as he tucked in his daughter, who snuggled up in bed. "Yes. I am proud of myself for making that change. And I bet Quackerjack is very thankful for it" he chuckled softly and pat the duckling's head. "Wait. What do you mean by that?" she asked confused as she looked up at him curiously. "Heh heh… guess you'll have to ask for his backstory to figure that out" Megavolt said with a smug voice as he stood up and headed over towards the door. "Now go to sleep. Remember, you promised" he chuckled softly and turned off the lights, closing the door behind him.

#Megavolt #dwd #dwd negaverse #negaverse #nega gosalyn #nega megavolt #fanfiction #fanfic #gosalyn #Gosalyn Mallard #Negaduck #darkwing duck #friendly four

24 notes · View notes