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merakiui · 1 year

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some thoughts about jade leech as a stalker.

(cw: yandere, nsfw, stalking, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, obsession, mentions of death/strangulation)

Jade does not love often. In fact, he has a rather small supply of love, which is reserved for his hobbies and family, so when he loves something other than those two things it can only mean trouble. When Floyd has something special and doesn’t share... Well, naturally Jade’s going to want it. He’s never been inherently greedy. Rather, he’s always let Floyd have everything: the larger half of a bluefin tuna, the shinier stone, the bigger seashells, the slice of cake with more frosting, his uniforms whenever Floyd’s were dirtied or damaged. And in return Floyd has, for the most part, shared his things with Jade. This has always been their normal.

But this time Floyd makes no mention of sharing when it comes to you. In the past, when they were particularly interested in someone, they would share them. Or, in other words, torment that person in equal succession. Azul has been their prime target for years now, and it doesn’t look like either of them will stop their relentless pursuit in seeing how fast they can get Azul to grouse or groan or sigh. You might think they live to see Azul’s misery, but truthfully they want to accompany Azul as he carves misery into the hearts of the poor, unfortunate souls who thought it wise to do business with deep-sea beasts. Teasing him is just a bonus.

When it comes to you, Floyd is his usual authentic self: blunt and honest to a fault, dangerously so. But that’s what makes his twin so fun. Floyd won’t sugarcoat the obvious. If he dislikes you, he’ll make it known. Jade, on the other hand, will speak syrupy sweet lies in an effort to maintain proper goodwill, even if he detests you. You’ve never really interested Jade, so he can’t say he hates you. But he can’t say he loves you either. To him, you are just a powerless human in a habitat that does not suit you. Really, even with all of the tricks and traps you pulled to beat Azul at his own game, you remained boring to him. He didn’t pay you much mind after everything had been resolved and you’d been free to return to Ramshackle. That should have been the end of his story with you.

But then, some time later, you start to make frequent appearances at the lounge. It doesn’t take Jade long to learn that you only show up when Floyd’s on shift, and it also doesn’t take him long to theorize that you might have fallen for his brother’s unique charms. It’s sweet, in a way, how Floyd lights up when he sees you, how you smile a little more brightly when he speaks to you, how your laughter is so very buoyant when Floyd lifts you into the air and spins you happily. Jade’s content to watch from the sidelines, pleased to know that his brother has found a friend in you. That might make it easier to trick you into a contract.

He’s so set in this way of thinking, only viewing you as a pawn or a stepping stone towards some bigger end goal. But when Floyd brings you back to the dorm and you become more than a constant in Jade’s life, he starts to wonder what makes you so special. What is it about you that has his brother so enamored? What makes you irresistible? What parts of you are appealing? Jade thinks it might be how quick it is you submit when Floyd’s got you pinned into the mattress, face first, rough hands spreading your thighs apart, so he can sink into you more easily. Floyd likes that; he likes the weak things that crumble under him. He likes to push things to breaking. He likes to mark and bite and bloody and bruise and shred.

Jade likes to fix. He likes to mend, and then break, and then mend all over again. He likes the process, the psychological science behind a simple gesture, much like how he takes great pleasure in playing god over the plants in his terrariums. They say a budding serial killer starts small—with animals like rabbits or squirrels or cats. Jade starts with plants. He’ll put them in stressful environments—in soils with nutrients that don’t quite work—and he’ll watch them wilt, mottle, mold, and decay. He’ll watch them struggle to adapt, he’ll watch them yearn for water or sunlight, and only when he’s certain they’ve had enough he’ll give them proper, healthy care. It’s fun, the way he has so much control over something as dynamic as a plant. But plants cannot protest, cannot fight back, cannot act in the same way humans do.

But it’s quite satisfying to pluck dried petals from a withered flower, almost like a morbid game of effeuiller la marguerite, and not hear a single scream.

So Jade is fully expecting Floyd to tire of you, to break you enough until boredom sinks its fangs into him and he moves on with his life. And what Floyd breaks Jade fixes, so he’s very ready to glue your heart together when Floyd shatters it. He’s ready to offer a handkerchief and his ear should you need to vent. He’s already prepared his speech: “I must apologize on behalf of Floyd. You know very well how he gets. If I can be of assistance in any way, please let me know.”

Unfortunately, you remain intact. Months pass, Floyd continues to love you, and your relationship unfolds like a lotus in early morning. Jade continues to observe. Floyd has never been one for privacy, so he’s seen every kiss, every bite, every inch of exposed skin. Hell, he’s sat at his desk and tallied Mostro Lounge’s monthly expenses while Floyd fucked you dumb on the other side of the room. He’s even made eye contact with you when you happened to gaze his way while his twin was buried balls-deep in that tight hole of yours. He wonders what goes on in that head of yours. Perhaps there’s nothing substantial within. Floyd’s scrambled your brains enough, so you could just be useless now. Though that wouldn’t be very fun, would it? He knows there’s more to you than you let on, especially when you play top and take every inch of Floyd, riding him so skillfully, and all Floyd can do is dig his fingers into your hips to guide you along to the rough, erratic pace the both of you have set.

Jade watches fondly from the shadows. Floyd likes to have access to your neck and shoulders; he likes to take you from behind while leaning down to bite into soft flesh. But Jade thinks it would be much nicer to gaze upon your face, to kiss salt from your eyes, to pepper your jawline with tiny pecks, all while peering into eyes that house a beautiful soul. He thinks it would be nice to hold you down, have your legs wrapped around his waist or thrown up onto his shoulders, while he bottoms out. If it were Jade, he’d take you in every position, but he’d find the most pleasure in eye contact. There’s something intimate about it, much like how there’s intimacy in the hands that wrap around a throat. You have to be close to someone when you’re restricting their airflow; you have to squeeze until veins pop, until your hands are sore, until your fingernails have burrowed so deeply into skin that the crescent moons color crimson. It takes minutes to strangle someone, and every minute is spent staring into the wide, terrified eyes of a desperate soul on the verge of death.

Jade likes the way you smell, the way you speak, the way you laugh, the way you are, in every meaning of the word, so very filled with life. Even down to the way you breathe and gasp and moan and cry, you are life itself. Jade wants to bottle that for himself—pluck you from Floyd’s flower pot and place you in a terrarium with the most potent elements just to see how long you’d fare. He wants to save you from those same conditions, sandwich your face between gloved hands when he’s kneeled to your lowered height, and whisper about how it’s okay, about how you’re safe, about how he’d never truly hurt you. Jade knows that loving someone is a very special thing, but the way he loves you is not quite pleasant. The love he has for his hobbies and family is natural. Normal. Simplistic and familial.

The love he has for you is murderous and frightening. Some days he looks at you like you’re prey he’s not yet devoured. Like you’re to be his first victim.

Jade starts small. He takes tiny trinkets—a keychain, a pencil, an accessory. He stores these in a shoe box under his bed. When Floyd brings you over and clothes are cast aside, he swipes your undergarments for himself. He won’t wash them until he absolutely must. He’ll have the soft fabric wrapped around his dick later that same evening when Floyd’s fallen asleep and he’s up late contemplating love and lust and life and death, and he’ll cum to the thought of you. Sweet, adorable, oblivious you.

He’s what one would call a persistence predator—a hunter who gradually wears his prey down over time. He takes from you, watches you, listens to you fret about missing things to Floyd, who promises to find the bastard who’s messing with you and squeeze them until they’re blue and purple. Jade smiles at that. Floyd wouldn’t really do that to him. Sure, they’ve hit each other when they’ve fought and roughhoused on occasion, but the punches were never truly meant. Sure, they might have been thrown playfully or angrily, but they were all temporary bouts of strength. Floyd wouldn’t truly hurt him, so to hear these determined promises and to see how you relax around him... It’s really cute. Jade wonders how much more he can take from you.

And he wonders how much more you can take before you’re splintering.

Really, you got lucky that Floyd picked you first. He’s far more merciful. Far more sweeter. Far more loving. At least Floyd is honest with his (at times) rough nature. At least he makes it known that he wants to bite you until you’re bleeding. But Floyd can’t stand whining. He hates it when people cry about things he can’t bother to care about, and lately you’ve been whining about this stalker you think you have for weeks now. Floyd’s told you you’re just being a scared shrimpy—that there is no stalker, that you’re probably just misplacing or losing these items, that none of them really matter because they’re replaceable.

Jade gets lucky when Floyd finally washes his hands of you, officially fed up with your whining. And what Floyd damages Jade fixes. So when you’re in tears, distraught over the break-up and your missing items and your stalker and the fact that the door to Ramshackle was left unlocked again and that you feel like someone’s living in your shadow, Jade arrives to rescue you from your fear. You don’t even hesitate to cling to him and cry, spilling your worries in waterfalls. Perhaps it’s because he’s a familiar face. He is a reflection of Floyd, after all.

“Oh dear,” he’ll whisper, stroking your back, allowing you to bury your face in his chest and sob. “There, there.”

You can’t see his expression, but there is a smile spreading on his lips. And his eyes are alight with cruel glee.

“Would it make you feel better if someone accompanied you to your classes?” Your feeble nod is all he needs. “In that case, shall I spend a few days at Ramshackle with you? I’m certain whoever’s pursuing you won’t get very far if I’m around.”

And he’s right. Your stalker never takes anything again. They never leave the front door unlocked. They never trail behind you, taking shelter in your shadow. That’s because he’s your stalker, though you never managed to figure that out, and this time he doesn’t have to dwell in shadows or on the sidelines. This time he can stand before you as a friend, a soon-to-be lover, and perhaps a lifelong mate.

Jade does not love often, but when he does it is as beautifully painful as tearing the wings from butterflies.

#meraki mumbles #yandere twst #n/sfw #i think my favorite thing about writing yandere jade is how brutal and remorseless he can be #it's probably because he grew up in the harsh environment of the sea #which would naturally harden anyone and make them more predatory than a prey #it's probably also why he (and floyd and azul) see nothing wrong with murder #yes it's morally wrong and very much illegal #but in the ocean it's eat or be eaten and really do you think jade is going to let some other predator snap his darling up? :)#challenge: write one yan jade thought without it spiraling into a thought about his murderous rizz #challenge failed </3 he is a walking danger you cannot tell me he wouldn't think of the most horrifying things when it comes to darling #more jade thoughts!!! consider an artist (painter/sculpter/etc) jade who is absolutely obsessed with you (the nude model from his art class)#because you're the one who has finally inspired him and broken his months-long artist's block #and also because he'd like to paint you in the most vicious red #or jade who has broken into your home and is living there in secret without you knowing #sometimes he sleeps under your bed just to hear your steady breaths #he never rearranges anything in your house but he does do the dishes or clean up messes you've made #you can never remember if or when you cleaned these things but you never think much of it #jade stands at your bedside when you sleep at night and he watches you #you'll happen to wake and you'll spot him but by the time you've scrambled to wake up and turn the lights on he'll already be gone #so you're left to wonder if he was ever there in the first place or if you were still dreaming #he is the terror that you will never see until it's too late

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notyetjae · 4 days

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Pregnancy headcanons <3

an | this is a bit old lol

Price

You were restless throughout your entire 3rd trimester. John thought it was nesting.. but it didn’t stop.

At first he let it excused it, even helped you endlessly rearrange furniture and clean the places you couldn’t.

It was when he caught you near midnight cleaning past exhaustion that he had to put a stop to it.

He cooked you favorite meals, brewed some tea and adjusted it exactly to your liking, then he caught you at dawn, before you could get even crawl out of bed.

And when you waddled back to the kitchen with dishes in hand? He let out an loving (annoyed) sigh and grabbed the soap and sponge from your reach, you were ready to snatch it from his when—

“Fuck.”

Liquid trickled down your leg and while a part of you wished it was pee, you knew it was go time.

He jumped right into action, faster than you could process, suddenly you were sitting on your kitchen island as he put your crocs on for you.

John contemplated carrying you to the car, but he wanted to save himself the ear full.

He tries to hide his nervousness, he’s uttering praises the whole time, his hands almost never leave you,

“You’re alright, love” “Deep breathes, just copy me, okay?” “I’m right here.”

So by the time you’re in the hospital, your not sure if you want to yell at him or melt into arms. He’s there the whole way, he’s the first to hold your sweet baby girl and he looks at her as if he holds the universe itself in his hands.

Soap

He is PUMPED.

I think he’s more excited than you.

You will have to drag him from the baby isle of stores.

Dad jokes increase ten fold.

You had a fairly normal pregnancy, but you know how some fathers mirror their partners symptoms when they’re pregnant? That’s him.

He cries with you- like a lot. Your back hurts? So does his, he’ll give you a massage and you return the favor.

Craving something? Ordered it 10 minutes ago.

When your heightened smell picks up on something you both turn and stare at each other with a disgusted expression.

The day you gave birth he was.. off. Like he wasn’t in sync with you.

You we’re doing some last minute changes in the nurse, atop a step ladder as you shifted a painting. Suddenly, your foot slips but your able to catch your balance.

You swear your heart stopped for moment, so you take it as a sign to your ass down. Just as you climb down you realize your standing in a puddle of water?

“Johnny!” You shout, he basically crashes into the room, his eyes widened as he scans you for anything out of the ordinary.

The definition of organized chaos.

He’s running around the house grabbing last minute shit he think you might need, and after fighting with your shoes for 5 minutes he just tosses them into the backpack and scoops you up.

He is so patient with you and the nurses, despite the adrenaline flooding his veins he’s calm and entirely focused on you.

The nurses try to hand your son to him first but he ushers them to pass him over to you instead, he bathes in the warmth your smile emits.

#John price x reader #john price x you #cod x reader #call of duty #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mctavish x reader

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jiminiecrickets · 7 months

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jeon jungkook ♡ series masterlist

wc. 2.3k

tags. smut | dom top!m!reader, exhibitionism, handjobs, edging, begging, name-calling, high and dry

jungkook's eyes shine at the sight of the meals the waiter unloads from his arms. he leans forward eagerly, peering down into the clay pot dishes and bright, fresh greens. he wiggles beside you, so much excitement leaking out of him that you can practically taste it. you smile as he brings his hands together to clap quietly, thanking the waiter so genuinely that the man can't help but return his smile.

"wow, you really went all out," jungkook comments, rearranging the dishes for the best dish-to-plate distance for both of you. he nudges your shoulder with an endearing crinkle to his eyes. "is this an attempt to gain my favour? what'd you do?"

"i didn't do anything," you protest. "i can't spoil my man a little after a hard day's work?"

he giggles, lifting your plate to spoon a portion onto it. you sneak your arm under his elbow and steal his plate, giving him a generous mound of fried rice and a few rice paper rolls. "you never spoil me, you stingy rat. i know something's up. did you chip my favourite pyrex container? bend my steak knife? lose my charger?"

"you live with me," you snark, "so those are technically my things. and no, that didn't happen. i'm not a clutz, unlike somebody here."

"i bought them – therefore, they're mine. what's so hard to understand?"

"they're under my insurance, so therefore – they're mine. fuck you."

he smirks. "you'd like to, wouldn't you?" a corner of his lips quirks up as he places your plate in front of you. "by the way, you don't need to say 'so' and 'therefore' one after the other like that." he hums as you set his plate in front of him. he leans over and pecks your cheek. "what a dummy. ah, at least you're handsome... you need to get out of the house more often."

he's such a brat. he's also incredibly clingy, which makes it difficult to do any work from home when you do finally give in to his wishes. every fifteen minutes you get a surprise visit from your boyfriend with another bowl of sliced apples. even tonight, in this fancy restaurant with too-dim lights and black-and-gold décor, he chose to shuffle in shoulder-to-shoulder and thigh-to-thigh in the u-shaped booth rather than sitting across from you like a normal person would.

he even sat there originally, raising your hopes that he would act like a prim and proper date. he then slid over the smooth leather seats while you ordered, laying his head on your shoulder and beaming up at the poor waiter, who was definitely not being paid enough to suffer through jungkook's lovey-dovey antics.

not ten minutes go by without incident. jungkook props his chin on your shoulder. his cologne smells light and fresh, like clean linen. he points at a slice of duck meat. "i want."

you put it on his plate. he pouts at it, hooking his shoe behind your calf. slowly, it slides up the back of your leg. "no, hyung-ah! want you to feed me. ahh..."

you glance around, warm in the cheeks and not from the heat of the busy restaurant or from the starchy suit. he blinks up at you expectantly, mouth open.

his eyes are just a little too lidded to not remind you of situations far dirtier than this. you clear your throat and shove the duck meat into his mouth until he almost chokes. he pulls away from your shoulder, and so does the creeping hand across your belt.

he grumbles as he swallows. "you coulda killed me, hyung. why'd i have to fall in love with such a mean guy?"

"because i'm handsome," you say nonchalantly, "like you said. apparently, it's my only good trait."

he hooks his arm through yours with a soft whine, food forgotten. you spoon another slice of duck into his mouth – you're paying for all of it, regardless if it goes into his stomach or the bin. he would definitely appreciate it a lot more. "hyung! that's not true. i love you for other reasons, too."

"mm, is that right, darling? name one." you slide a mouthful of glass noodles between his teeth. he winks when he notices how closely you're watching, making sure to be extra slow when he drags his lips over the spoon.

how he can make that attractive, you have no idea.

"well," he hums after swallowing, "you have a big dick!"

you nearly knock over the table in your haste to slap a hand over his mouth. your face burns. you hiss, "shut up! shut the fuck up. please, we are in public."

he waits until you lower your hand. he smiles innocently. "make me, hyung."

he goes right back to eating, unhooking his arms from yours and tucking his feet under himself. he wraps his lips around the chopsticks, glancing slyly in your direction to see if you're watching. you are. his lips shine slightly with oil from the fried dishes, plump and pink from the chilli powder. they curve up into a smirk as you place a firm hand on his knee.

popping a piece of chicken in his mouth, he lets out a soft moan, eyes closing gently as he savours the taste. "so good, baby. see? i knew you had some good qualities – you always manage to choose the best dishes on the menu, even if you've never tried it before. open your mouth for jungkookie, please. here comes the aeroplane."

he lifts the chopsticks, hovering a palm under it. you maintain eye contact as you accept it begrudgingly, doing your best to slam mental understanding through to him. you're in a restaurant that celebrities frequent – if you two are seen doing anything so much as a hair too risqué, you'll be kicked to the curb and your faces will be blacklisted forever behind reception. he's already pushing it, practically sitting on your lap.

his hand brushes over the front of your pants when he draws back. the glint in his eyes tells you that it's no accident.

fine. you'll play his game.

your hand slides up his knee to his thigh, squeezing in warning. you knuckle the edge of your hand into his soft bulge, concealing the movement with a shift on the booth seat. you feel his knee jerk, nearly hitting the table.

he clears his throat and continues eating, taking your nearly-empty plate and giving you another portion of every dish. how kind of him.

his trousers are beltless – ruins the lines of his jacket, he argued – and you glide your fingers over the front, finding the cold of his zipper easily. you palm his cock, hiding your smirk behind a quaint little appetiser as his hips shuffle discreetly.

he's always loved this game, touching when he shouldn't and where he shouldn't. you try to be mature about it, knocking his hands away or kicking his feet under the table when they get too close to their mark, but he's your baby, and you don't punish him nearly enough for any of your stern lectures to truly take root in that pretty little head of his.

you drag his zipper down.

your fingers slip into the gap under the button top, tracing gentle lines along his cock. it twitches with interest.

his pants are high-waisted, which makes it easier to hook your fingers into his boxer shorts – you have to personally thank whoever made loose-fits popular again – and fish out his cock. when he feels your fingers wrap firmly around him, his head snaps towards you and his eyes widen.

you smile sweetly back at him. what did he think would happen? you turn back to your meal, and after a still moment, he follows, his movements stiffer than before.

you stroke him lazily. you don't have to do much to get him riled up – the setting seems to pluck at his seams. he shuffles around so often that you barely have to move your hand; he does it for you.

you lean in, lips by his ear. "quit moving so much, baby. you'll get caught."

jungkook's throat bobs harshly as he nods, quiet and obedient as he stares down into his plate. as a reward, your fist quickens, and his breath hitches, eyes shutting briefly as your finger slides over his wet tip, smearing his precum down the length of his hard shaft.

"what's wrong, darling?" you ask with faux innocence. "you haven't touched your dinner in some time. want to order something else? a drink?"

he shakes his head, sucking on the ring through his lower lip. his cheeks are beginning to tint pink, and his wide eyes dart around the restaurant. eventually, they fall on you. "n-no, thank you, hyung," he replies in a small voice, lifting his hands and placing them palm-down on the dark table. he raises the spoon to his mouth.

he's so good for you! your heart melts a little. maybe it's the weight of being caught with his dick out – literally – but he's been quelled, his sneaky feet and sly glances left behind entirely.

it's bad for your ego. you have him in the palm of your hand – just a few fingers and you have infamous college bad-boy jeon jungkook melting into a hot, sticky puddle.

your hand pumps him steadily under the table. if he was in his right mind, he might recognise it as the classic pop 4/4 time signature, which you do for your own amusement. he lets out a shaky sigh, listing heavily against your side. you rest your cheek against the top of his head and tighten your fist, scraping along his veins rapidly to a bouncing beat, and his knuckles turn white around his chopsticks.

you glance over them in amusement. "going to stab me with those, jeon?"

he loosens his grip and holds them properly, rather than like a stake he'd enjoy driving into your heart. he shakes his head, uttering a weak "uh-uh" as he turns his face into your shoulder. his breaths are hot and heavy, unsteady and stuttered.

you bite back a satisfied smile. "not such a tease now, are you?" you murmur into his ear. "i wonder how long you can hold it..."

he chokes out a tiny whimper. "no – no, please, hyung, please don't make me—"

"well, what else are you going to do? come all over the bottom of this table, all over your trousers and your shoes, like a needy whore?"

he jerks into your fist with a swallowed gasp. he doesn't even bother to try and look as if he's eating dinner – he's just trying not to moan too loudly.

poor thing. you stroke his hair kindly.

his cock is soaked. you can hear your wet movements under the table. he whimpers into your shoulder, a death grip on your forearm as he humps your fist.

"h-hyung," he gasps softly, his voice cracked and hoarse. "hyung, ah, ah, i c-can't—"

"mm, darling? want me to stop?"

all he does is whine quietly.

"excuse me, sir?"

you look up into the concerned eyes of a waiter – the same one who served you earlier. he gestures to jungkook, whose hair covers just enough to hide the sex-addled haze of his blown irises. his red cheeks, however, are not. "is he alright?"

you chuckle, nodding. "yeah, he'll be okay after an ibuprofen and a big glass of water. not a big drinker – you understand." you gesture to your wine glass, which is half-finished. you probably won't drink the rest of it; you've got something far tastier to get yourself drunk on tonight.

the waiter nods with a sympathetic smile. he bows slightly. "right! sorry for interrupting your dinner, then. have a good evening."

you smile as he leaves. you turn back to jungkook, who finally parts his lips to let out a breathless, near-silent moan. your hand had never stopped. his fist tightens in your jacket.

"you're doing so well, darling," you whisper, his precum dripping down your knuckles. his cock pulses hotly with each quick, dragging stroke. "you're doing so well for me. doing so well for hyung. you want to be good for me, yeah?"

he nods quickly, panting softly. "y-yeah, yeah, hyung, wanna be good f'you. 'm good jus' f'you."

the way he's slurring his words could pass him for drunk if it really came down to it. he wraps his arms around you, and you can feel his tremble even deeper now – it's not just his thighs or his hands. he's trembling all over.

he's trying so hard for you.

you twist your voice into something sweet and gentle. "that's right. you've done so well tonight – look, we've finished all of the food we ordered! want to go home now, baby?"

he nearly whines aloud, gazing up at you with dark, desperate eyes. he gulps hard. "y-yes, yes please, let's go home, let's go let's go—"

"okay, okay," you laugh, gently tucking him away into his pants. he shifts in discomfort. you give him your jacket as you slide out of the booth, and he grabs it gratefully and folds it over his arm to hold over the visible tent in his pants. "i just need to pay and we're all set. want to wait in the car?"

he flushes and nods, taking your hand in his own. "yeah, if you wouldn't mind..."

"of course. anything for my darling."

#top male reader #x male reader #male reader #dom male reader #bts x male reader #dom reader #top reader #bottom bts #bottom jungkook #jungkook x male reader #kpop x male reader #bts x reader #kpop x reader #bts smut #jungkook smut

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deerestapologies · 3 years

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Neat freak MC in their house of horrors

This is honestly just me projecting how I, and by proxy my MC, would cope with living with these nasty little men.

(GN!MC, romantic relationships implied, food mention)

Lucifer

Probably the most easy to tolerate

He stays out of your space, keeps his own space pretty tidy, and actually cares about keeping the house clean

Pawns cleaning off on other people though, including you, which is a point of contention

Also does his whole "hanging people from various structures" thing without caring about the destruction it may cause

(Again, having other people clean for him 😒)

Once he's more comfortable with you, and you guys spend more time together, he gets to see the full extent of your Neat Freakiness.

Including: clothing drawers being organized by body region and function, desk organized by subject and then by relevance, closet organized by season and function, you invoking the pact on anyone who leaves junk in your room

It's hilarious to him that you're willing go with the flow of basically everything, but you're telling Amso to come back from his evening plans to clean the makeup off your vanity mirror

He's also the most supportive of your tirades, loves watching you pick on his brothers for being slobs lol

Mammon

Gets yelled at the most

This poor idiot, for all that he practically lives in your room, still doesn't pick up after himself

Between the clothes and jewelry he sheds at night, to his cup noodles, and the miscellaneous nonsense he picks up while shopping, he just drops it where he pleases

Which usually ends up with you either refusing to enter the room until he cleans or just invoking the pact

(Quickest way to get him to clean: "I'm spending the night in your brother's room")

Will whine the entire time but will do as he's told

Is pretty good about keeping communal spaces clean, but gets lazy after cooking and needs a kick in the ass or he'll pawn it off on Beel

You made him a lil spot on the bedside table and cleared a drawer for him to keep his junk organized but all that does is make him the smugest bastard in the entire Devildom

Levi

He walks a fine line

His stuff stays in his room and all the important stuff (Ruri-chan merch) has its place

Hardly spends time in the communal areas but does tend to lose things if he gets distracted,

When he's on a marathon though, he doesn't give a damn about anything else and that includes whatever messes he makes

His clothes? All over the floor. Laundry? Never gonna happen. Wrappers? Near the trash can is good enough. Dishes? Piled by the door.

He'll really only pick up once he's off his media high or if you refuse to come in his room

Luckily the messes are usually kept to his room so you don't have to be subjected to them if you don't want to

(Is pretty jealous that Mammon has a drawer in your room and may or may not try to leave things in there to get a drawer of his own)

Satan

Another one that's pushing his luck

His room is a bit of a disaster zone but there's a method to the madness at least

Especially after he wants to spend more time with you, he'll be sure to at least pick up the cursed books

Thinks the way you get worked up about organizing things is cute, will absolutely use that to pull some pranks on you

(They're all pretty harmless, like moving certain things out of order every time you leave the room or rearranging his books by some nonsense rule, just to get a rise out of you)

He's very good about picking up after himself in communal areas, if only cause he doesn't want anyone (coughMammoncough) running off with his book

Absolutely respects the system you have going on in your room, does his best not to disrupt it

Also absolutely leaves things in your room anyways

Whether it's part of his uniform or a notebook, almost every time you guys hang out he forgets something

He's got a lil spot on your desk where you set his stuff in the mean time

Probably isn't doing it on purpose.... 🤔

Asmo

This little shit

Takes extra care to put away his expensive cosmetics and fancy clothes, but the rest is fair game

If it lands on your bed or his it doesn't matter to him, he knows you treat his clothes nicely

You cleared a bathroom drawer for him and he still manages to take up a bunch of space on the counter

He's always got some new cream or oil or scent he wants you to try (you know he's sharing out of love but jfc)

Your closest is his closet, your vanity is his vanity, he is bound and determined to be as far in your space as you'll let him

Let's you have free reign as like, a sign of love and respect?

Has no problem with you going through his stuff, moving it, reorganizing, washing, whatever, as far as he's concerned it's all shared property

It takes some careful explaining for him to realize it isn't that you don't want him around, just that you want things organized a certain way in your room

He tries, honestly

He wants to be your favorite and will absolutely rub it in Mammon's face when you praise him for putting things away neatly

Beelzebub

Poor boy does his best

He's munching on something pretty much all the time though

Where he goes there are bags and wrappers and crumbs and constant crunching, it'd be maddening if he didn't make an effort to clean up after himself

Always brings a trash bag when he comes over so you don't have to worry about emptying your can

(And sometimes a lil vacuum too lol)

Ironically, pretty organized though

He has to keep his side of the room tidy if he wants to have room to store snacks effectively

Still, crumbs everywhere

Picks up the blankets and sheets off his bed and shakes them out, in front of you, every time you hang out on his bed

Not because he's ashamed, but cause he knows it matters to you

Has been conditioned to put things back where he found them by going to the gym so often

(If you don't rack your weights correctly, you are on the staffs hit list)

When he's a hungry haze though, he might wander into your room instead of the kitchen on accident and start going through your room likes it's the kitchen cabinetry

Has absolutely eaten some of his brothers stuff this way

Belphie

Top of the shit list without even trying

It's not that he leaves shit all over the place to upset you (mostly) it's just that he'll get really tired and just abandon whatever he's doing to go take a nap

That includes cooking, doing homework, walking from room to room, speaking with literally anyone

Whatever's in his hands or on his person that he doesn't wanna deal with just gets put down wherever

He doesn't get yelled at so much as things get dropped on his bed

Even if he's in it

It's the most effective way to make him deal with his junk

But if you catch him in the act of dumping something without thinking you can usually just remind him to take it with him

He's really bad about piling his nap stuff on your bed and like, refusing to move it

Cause why would he

(You may have to invoke the pact if your bed is a serious no go, he's gonna be stubborn about it)

Worst offender, least apologetic

#obey me #shall we date obey me #obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me x reader #the fact that this is the first om draft that i could convince myself to finish is very on brand #ive got a bunch of other stuff in the works thatll hopefully get finished eventually but this one just happened #i got that bitchy ocd type of neat freak and thinking about how crunchy beels sheets must be put me in a blind rage #an informal apology

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pascalpanic · 3 years

Text

‘Nilla Bean (Agent Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x gn!Reader)

Summary: A cowboy in your coffee shop is not the way you’d expected your morning to go, but you’re not complaining; especially not when he’s as attractive as he is.

W/C: 2.1k

Warnings: talk of food/eating, brief allusions to alcohol, lots of flirting, sexual innuendos, I think there’s like a single use of fuck

A/N: okay I’ve been thinking about this FOREVER but I finally went ahead and wrote it!!! hope u guys like it, I’m a sucker for a coffee shop AU as a barista myself :) thx @theteddylupinexperience for helping me name it and motivating me to write it lol

When you started your shift this morning, you’d groaned as you tied the apron around your waist, expecting an uneventful day. Most were. If you were lucky enough to see someone you knew or to have an especially nice customer, you’d consider it a good day. You didn’t know when you walked in that it would be the good day to end all good days: nothing could top this one.

Weekday mornings in the fall aren’t particularly busy. The majority of your customers come around the morning rush, and the remaining ones are usually retirees or house-spouses and their young children. It’s enjoyable, days like these, that don’t require you to dash about the shop.

The only problem, really, is having nothing to do. You clean the coffee grinder, wipe down tables, wipe down everything else, then do it all again. Restocking, usually an endless chore, isn’t even an option; no one’s using anything in the first place. You and your coworkers chat, deep-cleaning the coolers, washing the blender stations, and doing the dirty work. When a customer comes, you’re the lucky one who gets to go take their order and put your task on hold first.

It seems like you’ve done every task twice, even when your manager introduces yet another idea for you to deal with. To bide your time, you prep coffee for later, rearrange the case of pretty little pastries that sits next to your register, and doodle on your station with a paint pen, humming to the soft music playing in the shop.

People come and go, some picking up mobile orders and some ordering from you, some choosing to eat inside and some taking their food to go. You sip your drink happily between customers- a white mocha with caramel.

At one point, you’re in the back and washing dishes when a coworker peeks his head into the back. “Hey, you got someone up front!” He informs you, and you nod and wander out through the swinging doors.

Well. That’s certainly a sight for a Tuesday morning.

The man standing at the register is wearing a painfully well-tailored suit jacket, with gray tweed and patches on the elbows. Beneath it is a white top and a black tie, and the man wears jeans on the bottom half. Interesting.

Perhaps more interesting is the large cowboy hat perched atop his head. The man’s face, below the brim of his Stetson, is incredibly handsome. He has an aquiline nose, a neatly trimmed mustache that wouldn’t work on anyone else, and warm brown eyes that make you smile softly.

“Hi,” you comment as you log into the register. “Are you a part of our rewards program?” You ask as part of your regular spiel.

The man furrows his brow then shakes his head. “Uh, no. No I’m not. Can you sign me up now?” He asks, and his voice makes your chest flutter with the tone. It’s rich and smooth, with a beautiful southern twang.

Looking at your register and back at him, you shake your head. “It’s just an app on your smartphone, really easy,” you tell him.

“Ah, damn,” he groans and pulls it from his pocket. “I’m shit with technology. Why don’t you just… type it in here?” He says, handing you his phone with a notes page open. His thick fingers accidentally lock the phone as he hands it to you.

You tap the screen to wake it and find the background to be a picture of a cute little pig all covered in mud. “Uh, you locked it,” you chuckle. “What’s the password?”

The man looks down shyly. “1-2-3-4. Don’t make fun’a me, I’m like a grandpa with these newfangled phones.”

It’s endearing, you have to admit, and it makes you giggle. “Not a problem. I’m not here to chide you on your security choices,” you shrug. You type in the code and find the app, starting the download for him before handing back his phone. “Can I get a name to start your order?” You ask as you look up at him.

His eyes hold a warmth there, radiating off of his smile. “Whiskey.”

“Your mother named you Whiskey?” You tease as you type in the name, returning back to the main page of beverages. “Some kind of legal name.”

The man shakes his head. “Nah, that’s just what I go by at work.”

Whiskey likes conversation, you notice, and it makes you chuckle a little. “You got a real name then?” You ask him, raising an eyebrow beneath your visor.

The man tips his hat. “Jack Daniels, at your service.” He says and offers you a hand, which you take and shake.

“That’s a lie. You’re telling me your nickname is Whiskey and your real name is a type of whiskey?”

The man shrugs. “My momma had a real funny sense of humor, I guess. My daddy loved the booze so they went with it. I work for Statesman, so I suppose it’s fitting.”

“Ah, the distillery,” you nod with a smile, not grasping the depth of what Statesman actually does. How could you? “Well then, Jack,” you say with an honest grin on your face. “What can I get you to drink?”

Whiskey, Jack, whatever his name is, looks up at the menu, scanning the different beverages. “Well. That sure is a lot of choices. I’m new to the area, so I don’t know the menu yet, and I don’t know the first thing about coffee other than how to make it in a machine,” he admits to you. “What would you recommend, sugar?”

Sugar. Your heart beats a million times faster at the man’s words. You’ve had lots of weird and creepy men call you different things, but you’ve never been flustered and enjoyed it. This man is getting to you, quickly. “Well, how strong do you take your coffee?”

He thinks about that for a second, fiddling with the button on his suit jacket. “Pretty strong. A little sweet, with cream. I usually take it Irish style,” he admits with a chuckle, tapping a belt buckle that you realize is a tiny flask. Jesus. That’s not cheesy.

“Well, we don’t serve alcohol,” you laugh and look down at your screen. “We have all kinds of flavors.” You list them all off, off the top of your head, now staring at the ceiling to recite them all. “And our seasonal drink is pumpkin spice.”

The man raises an eyebrow. “Wonderful and all, but what do you like? You seem like you’ve got a good taste, darlin’, tell me what you’d recommend.”

God, these names are going right to where they shouldn’t, especially not when this handsome man is leaning on your counter and flirting with you as he orders his coffee. “I like vanilla.” You shrug.

The man laughs and stands. “I hate to say it, sugar, but I’m not a very vanilla man,” he says, his head tilting down and his dark, sultry eyes peeking out at you from just below the brim. His voice is seductive, implying something else other than the flavor.

Oh fuck. “Oh, not like that,” you laugh as your face floods with warm blood, anxiety coursing through your veins. “Not vanilla in that way.” Fuck, that’s even worse, you think and grip the counter so as to not physically cringe at your words.

“Not like that, huh?” His words are still so seductive and flirtatious it makes you want to combust. Maybe you will, if he keeps this going.

“N-no,” you stammer, looking down at the menu screen again. “I mean, I just think it’s underrated. People dismiss it as boring, but it’s really just as interesting of a flavor as anything else. It tastes really good with our espresso.”

Jack tilts his head to the side, a smirk on his face. His lip pokes out just slightly to wet his lips and you shiver involuntarily, your skin pricking up all across your body. God, you hope he can’t see it. “I’ll trust you on it, ‘nilla bean,” the man drawls and stands up straight again. “Triple espresso with vanilla and cream.”

You nod and ring that in. God, if he keeps going with the nicknames, you’re going to melt into a puddle here and now.

“What are these?” He asks as his fingers trace over the drawings on the counter, lifting them and finding the pink and green powder of the dried paint has transferred to his fingertips.

God, he makes you nervous, but in a good way. In the best way possible, a way that makes you want to knock that cowboy hat off his head and find out if his lips are as soft as they look. “I draw when I’m bored. It’s been a slow day,” you chuckle as your own fingers trace the crawling vines and flowers you’d painted there. “Sorry about the transfer,” you chuckle and your fingertips brush his, making you involuntarily shudder again at the contact. His fingertips are calloused and radiate warmth. “Uh, can I get you anything to eat?” You ask and gesture at the bakery case.

The man inspects it for a moment, looking at the various foods lined up under the soft white light. “I’ll take one’a these,” he says and pokes a finger towards the chocolate chip cookies through the glass. You nod and take one out for him, putting it in a little paper sleeve and handing it over. “How much is this gonna hurt my wallet?” He asks, pulling it out from the back pocket of his jeans.

“Give me one second.” You type in your code for your employee discount, which takes a moment.

“What’re you typin’ there, ‘nilla bean?” He asks, brow furrowing.

Looking up at him, you push your visor up your face and smile a little. “Oh, I’m giving you my employee discount. It’s ridiculously priced here.”

Jack frowns. “You don’t have to do that for me, sugar. I’m just a regular ol’ customer.”

It’s your chance, you realize, to say something or stay silent forever. “Well, I like you,” you admit and take the credit card he hands you, swiping it through the machine. “And I’m hoping you’ll at least become a regular. I’d like to see you more,” you tell him with a grin.

The man’s face lights up, even beneath the shadow of his brim. “I’d like that too,” he nods and pockets his card when you hand it back.

A beat of silence passes as the two of you smile at each other, both of you lovestruck immediately. “Uh, your drink will be right up over there,” you say and nod to the other end of the café. “Are you going to drink that here or take it to go?” You ask.

“Oh, here,” he nods.

“Perfect,” you say with a small smile. “Then I’ll just bring it to you when it’s ready. Nothing better to do today,” you shrug and wander down to the other end before Jack, Whiskey, whatever can refute you.

You take the cup from your coworker, humming to yourself as you put some vanilla and cream in the cup, pulling the espresso shots. When it’s ready, it barely reaches the halfway mark of the small cup, so you top it with a little whipped cream. You suspect the man has more of a sweet tooth than he lets on.

Pocketing a pink paint marker, you put a lid on the drink and walk out to the dining room, setting the coffee down across from him. He’s munching on the cookie he’d ordered, looking up at you with unintentional puppy dog eyes. “Hey there.”

“Hi,” you smile and pull out the chair across from him, sitting down and pulling out the paint pen. “I put a little extra whipped cream on top. I thought it would go well with the espresso, make it a little creamier or something.”

As you uncap the paint pen, Jack’s brow furrows as he watches you. “Whatcha doing there?” He asks as you bring his cup closer to yourself and write something on the top.

“Being brave,” you chuckle and cap the pen, sliding it back. “I gotta head back. Enjoy it,” you say as you stand and pat him on the shoulder.

Only as you walk back to the register does Whiskey comprehend exactly what you put on the top of his cup. It’s your phone number, in that chalky pink paint, and a smiley face beneath it.

Jack may not be great with technology, like he told you, but he immediately pulls out his phone and takes a photo. Then he enters the number into a contact, filling out the name: ‘Nilla Bean.

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atlafan · 4 years

Text

Lock the Door

a/n: college!Harry one shot because why the f not??????? I’ve wanted to write a good college!Harry au for aw while, and I’m happy with this. 11K of friends to lovers. (not proofread)

Warnings: Smut.

It was junior year of college, Y/N and her friends were thrilled to finally be out of the dorms. Even though they were still living on campus, they were in a student apartment, and incredibly thankful. Now instead of sharing a bathroom with hundreds of other people, there would only be four of them. The only thing was Y/N’s parents weren’t thrilled about the people she was rooming with.

There was her best friend, Liv, who her parents actually really liked. It was the other two roommates that made them feel uneasy. See, Liv really wanted to live with her boyfriend Chris, but they didn’t want to exactly live by themselves, and the student apartments for just two people were really expensive. They’d been dating since second semester their freshman year so it wasn’t weird that they wanted to be in closer proximity. Y/N also thought Chris was an amazing person. He and Liv never made her feel like a third wheel, it was an ideal situation. The three would have been fine to live together, but the university had certain policies in place. One guy was not allowed to live with two girls, they needed another guy. That’s when the topic of Harry came up.

“I know he’s not your favorite of my friends, but the other people he was supposed to live with are going off campus, which he can’t afford to do.”

“It’s not that he’s not my favorite, I just don’t know him that well.” Y/N shrugged. ��If that’s the case, I think Liv and I should share a room…”

“Yeah, that works. Chris and I don’t wanna be on top of each other all the time, we’re just sick of going across campus all the time.” Liv says. “So, you’d really be okay with Harry living with us? You’ve said before you don’t really care for his lifestyle…”

“He’s just not the first person I would hang out with, but if it means we get this apartment, then I’m cool with it. We’ll get to know each other better if we live together, right?”

When Y/N broke the news to her parents they got into a big fight with her about it, but she assured them that a lot of other students did what she and her friends were doing. Living with boys really wasn’t that big of a deal. If anything it would give her practice for when she someday actually got a boyfriend that she would eventually move in with.

The four of them got coffee together the morning they had to have the housing application in. Harry didn’t say much, clearly not a morning person, but he seemed alright with the situation. He and Chris were good enough friends, and he was also excited to not be in a dorm next year.

“I just have one request.” Y/N says. “A lot of the apartments usually have one room that’s bigger than the other, from what I’ve noticed. I’d like for Liv and I to have the bigger room. Chris, I’ve seen your dorm, you literally have like nothing in there. Liv and I have a ton clothes and other things that we’ll space for…”

Chris and Harry look at each other and shrug.

“Alright, that’s not problem.” Chris says. “We should make a group text so over the summer we can see who’s bringing what. We need to figure out dishes and other kitchen shit.”

“And we’ll still need a mini fridge for extra shit, one of my friends was tellin’ me there’s not much room in the apartment fridges. I can bring the one I have.”

“I have a microwave.” Y/N says. “Happy to bring that too.”

“We’ll also need a chore chart.” Liv says. “Just because Y/N and I will be the women of the house does not mean we’ll be the maids. I am not going to be on my hands and knees cleaning the bathroom all the time. We should also pool in money for toilet paper and stuff like that.”

“Good idea, babe.” Chris kisses her cheek and Harry rolls his eyes.

That was is right there, the attitude that turned Y/N’s stomach. She thought Chris and Liv were a really cute couple, their affection didn’t bother her at all, but Harry seemed overly annoyed. All it was, was a peck on the cheek.

You all wished each other a good summer when the time came. The four of you group texted off and on best you could to make sure there was little miscommunication about who was to bring what. Since Harry was an international student, he would be moving in a week before everyone else. Y/N was actually happy about this because he would be there to help her move in. She’d be coming up the night before move in to get a good parking spot, and then her parents would come the next day with the rest of her things.

For the first time, she texted Harry outside the group chat when she arrived at her apartment. He opened the door for her only wearing a pair of shorts. Her eyes grew wide, and he notices.

“Sorry, it’s hotter than satin’s asshole in here, I hope you brought a fan for yourself.” He rubs the back of his neck, and you laugh.

“I did. That’s the worst thing, no A/C in these old apartment. At least it’s only hot like this for a couple of weeks, right?” He hums his response as she walks in. “To be honest I was expecting a mess…but it looks good in here.”

“Not much to make a mess with.” He shrugs. “I rearranged some of the furniture in the living area so it was less tight next to the kitchen. Got the TV set up too.”

“I can see that, it looks nice.” You smile.

“So…do you like need some help with your shit?”

“That would be great, actually. The microwave is pretty heavy.”

“Thank god you brought it with you. I’ve been dying for some popcorn.”

“Great, you can stink it right up.”

“Relax, I was kidding.” He rolls his eyes. “Take a joke, Y/N.”

Her mouth falls open as he walks out to her car. He opens the trunk and hoists the microwave out while she grabs her luggage bags that were full of clothes.

“I can bring that up for you. It’s an up and up, so Chris and I are on that level, and you and Liv will be up top. That was the bigger room just like you requested.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that.”

Harry helps get everything else inside while Y/N goes to get a prime parking spot. Harry felt sort of awkward just standing around while she unpacked certain things for the kitchen.

“Jesus, it really is hot in here, I need to go change.” She wipes some sweat from her forehead.

Y/N goes up to her room and opens the two small windows, and turns her fan on to try to get the air to move. She comes down a few minutes later in just a sports bra and a pair of shorts.

“This is sort of awkward, but you help me with my bed? I’m having a tough time getting it up a little higher…”

“Not awkward…at…all.” When he looks at her he sees how little clothing she’s wearing.

“If you get to be shirtless then I get to dress like this.” She says, putting her hands on her hips.

“I didn’t say anything.” He smirks. “Besides, I’m sure we’ll be seein’ each other in a lot less as the year goes on.”

She shakes her head and follows him up. Harry’s able to get the bet up a few pegs so Y/N can slide the small dresser underneath it, creating more floor space.

“That’s perfect! My parents are bringing those plastic pins you can stack as like a makeshift dresser that fits in the closet tomorrow. Hmmm.”

“What?”

“Well, usually my mom helps me make the bed. It’s just so long, it’s hard to get a good grasp on the sheet.”

“I can help if you want.”

“You’ve done enough.”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind.” He smiles. “After this though would you wanna get out for a bit? I feel like it’s cooler outside. We could go downtown for a slice.”

“Oh, I like that idea a lot. Pizza is a must right now.”

Harry helps you get her sheets on her bed, and she tell him she’ll fix the rest later. Y/N knew she wouldn’t need a lot of extra blankets tonight. She throws on a shirt and so does he, and out the door they go. They walk down town the local pizza place, and grab a booth after getting their slices.

“Nice and cool in here, huh?” He says.

“So much better.” She giggles. “Where are your other friends living?”

“They’re over on Russell Street. It’s kinda nice, I’ll have a place to go party, and then have a quiet place to come back to afterwards. Think it all worked out for the best.”

“Can you remind me again what your major is? I know Chris is Sports Management…”

“I’m an Art major…” He says quietly. “And yes, I know it’s going to be hard for me out there once I graduate.”

“Woah, I didn’t say anything.” She puts her hands up in defense. “I think that’s cool actually. What do you do? Paint? Sculpt? Draw?”

“Mix of all three actually. Basically if I can get my hands dirty, I will.” He smirks. “I just wanted to get a degree in something I liked doin’, but I do have a minor in graphic design just in case I need somethin’ to fall back on.”

“Oh, is that how you and Chris met? That’s his minor too.”

“Mhm.” He takes a bite of his pizza. “We had a couple of classes together and got paired on some projects, hit it off right away.”

“That’s great.”

“How did you and Liv meet?”

“We roomed together second semester freshmen year. Our other roommates both dropped out so we got paired randomly. She’s the best, I got really lucky. She was already dating Chris when we met.”

“The three of you seem close.”

“He’s really nice, always included me. They never made me feel like a third wheel which was nice. I mean, I have other friends, don’t get me wrong. I found things to do when they needed their alone time.”

“And you ever find any alone time?”

“That’s an awfully personal question, don’t you think?” She scoffs.

“Thought we were gettin’ to know each other a bit here…sorry.”

“It’s okay…um…I mean, there are guys I’ve been alone with…” Y/N clears her throat. “I use Tinder like every other college student, you know?” He hums his response and finishes up his slice. He leans back and sits with his arm strong across the back of the booth. “What about you?”

“Eh, I like to meet people in person, at like a party or somethin’.” He thinks for a moment, and leans on the table to be a bit closer so no one else around could really hear. “You’re pretty, Y/N, why do you use Tinder?” She blushes. “I mean, surely you could just meet someone out.”

“I…well, I don’t really go to big parties, mostly kickbacks.” He nods and finishes up his bottle of soda.

“You ready?”

“Mhm.”

They both walk back to the apartment, and he keys in. She goes upstairs to keep unpacking and to tidy up. She was trying to hang up some curtains, but she fell back from trying to reach to high. Harry hears the thud and rushes right up. He had a nicer short sleeve shirt on now, and a nicer pair of shorts.

“Are you okay?!”

“Yeah.” You laugh. “Just lost my balance. Do you think you could help me hang these up quick?”

“Sure.”

The curtains get hung and they look great with the twinkling lights Y/N strung up.

“Liv and I love these lights.” She looks at him. “You like nice.”

“Matt’s havin’ a party…do you wanan come?”

“God, with the amount of time I’d need to get ready you’d be late.” You laugh.

“I wasn’t plannin’ to leave for another hour, plenty of time to freshen up.”

“Sure, I could come out for a bit, thanks.”

He leaves her to get ready. She puts her hair up in a cute, messy bun, and touches up some makeup. Y/N finds a cute pair of shirts and a crop top to throw on and down the stairs she goes. Harry was pouring two shots of raspberry vodka into two small glasses.

“Here.” He smiles. “Wait, you drink, right?”

“Yes.” You giggle. “I can’t wait to turn twenty-one. Just a few more months.”

“Same here, February actually.”

“No way! Me too. When’s yours?”

“The first, yours?”

“The fourth.”

“Wow, that’s crazy.” They clink their glasses and off to the party they go.

Y/N drank way too much last night, and she knew her parents would be able to tell. They were there bright and early with the rest of her things. They also put Harry to work.

“You have a lot of shit, you know that?” He says, setting another box down.

“I’m well aware.”

Eventually Liv and Chris show up and it’s hugs all around. Y/N and Liv get a minute alone in their room, finally.

“So how was last night with just you and Harry?”

“It was good! We went out for pizza, he helped me a bunch with my things, and he took me to a party. I’m glad we had the time to get to know each other a little bit.”

“Me too. He can be kind of shy from what Chris tells me.”

“Apparently he’s an art major.”

“I wonder if he’ll hang any of his things up.”

“You know, he’s been in our room a ton already, but I didn’t think to go into his.”

“Well, let’s check it out.” They both go down and into the boy’s room.

Both sides were organized, but they could tell whose side was whose. Harry had his art supplies all over his desk, and had boxes of paint and brushes under his bed. He had a couple of things up as well.

“Looks good in here guys.” Liv says.

Y/N and Liv end up going out for lunch with Y/N’s parents, and then they go on a trip to the grocery store to pick up what they think they need.

“Alright honey, I guess we’ll see you at Thanksgiving, if not sooner.” Y/N’s mother says, giving her a hug.

“Please, be careful.” Her dad says.

“I’ll be fine. Let me know when you get back home. Thanks for everything, love you both!” She sighs as she closes the door. “Finally.”

Y/N and Liv go up to their room and continue decorating it to their liking while Harry and Chris get their gaming consoles hooked up to the TV in the living area.

“So…you got to know Y/N a little last night?”

“Yeah, she’s pretty cool so far. I was kinda worried, I didn’t think she liked me every much.”

“She just didn’t know you, that’s all. What did you guys do?”

“I helped her with her things, we grabbed a slice of pizza, and then I took her to Matt’s for a party. I think there were like three different guys that tried to take her home, but she turned them all down.” He shrugs.

“And what did you do?”

“She didn’t have a key yet, so I made sure she got back here, and then I slipped out an hour or so later to hook up with this girl that gave me her number at the party.”

“Well, thanks for getting her back here at least.” Chris chuckles.

“I’m not a fuckin’ asshole.” He nudges him playfully. “She did have fun at the party, I’ll probably bring her out again. You all can come any time. I feel like that place is gonna be my second home.”

Y/N and Live come down with all the things they like to keep in the bathroom and the boys look scared. For a student apartment it was a decent size bathroom, with a good size tub-shower. Liv opens the cabinets under the sink, and you hand her two boxes of pads and tampons.

“Yup, definitely livin’ with women.” Harry smirks and crosses his arms.

“If feminine products are going to bother you-“ Liv starts, but he cuts her off.

“Got a mum and a sister back home, periods don’t scare me. Was just simply makin’ an observation.”

“Good.” She grabs a small trashcan puts a bag in it. Y/N hands her the lid. “Listen to me very carefully, this is just for Y/N and I. There’s another small can for community use, but this is for her and I’s…”

“Say no more.” Chris says. “Just keep it under the sink and we won’t touch it.”

“I also would like some courtesy with shaving.” Y/N says. “I really don’t wanna see pubes around the toilet.” She crosses her arms. “If you make a mess, you clean it up.”

“I feel like the two of you think we’re savages.” Harry laughs. “I’ve been in a girl’s bathroom before, and I have to say, I think girls are way more disgusting.”

“Why were you in a girl’s bathroom?” Liv asks.

“I was asked to join someone in the shower.” Harry says bluntly. “And it didn’t last long because we both walked in and saw a fuckin’ bloody tampon on the floor. So we went to the men’s bathroom and it was spotless. And while we’re on the topic, you both have long hair, so if you don’t wanna see pubes around the toilet, I don’t wanna see hair in the drain.”

“Deal.” Y/N says. “Let’s move on to the kitchen, shall we?” The four walk out to the kitchen area. “If you make a mess in the microwave, you clean it immediately, don’t leave it for someone else.”

“If someone’s name is on something in the fridge, don’t eat it.” Chris says. “However, I would like to see us cooking together. Like if someone makes pasta, someone else could throw in a meat or veggie.”

“That’s a good idea.” Liv says. “If you make a mess in the fridge clean it up. Check expiration dates. Oh! Trash is a big thing. We all need to take turns with that. If you see it getting full, just take it out, don’t leave it for someone else.”

After spending over an hour on a chore chart and going over more house rules, the four feel satisfied.

A few weeks into the semester, and Y/N noticed that Harry wasn’t home a lot. He was either down at the art studio, or at his friend’s apartment. She also noticed he didn’t sleep there much on the weekends, but it worked out well for Chris and Liv so they could have the room alone when they needed. Y/N never saw Harry bring a girl home with him, and she was sort of relieved.

Living with two guys wasn’t as awkward as Y/N and Liv thought it might be. Everyone was really chill, and it was nice to cook together. It was like being in a little family.

One morning Harry woke up late for class, but desperately needed to shower. Y/N happened to be in there. Everyone usually showered at the same time, but Harry was in a rush and annoyed. Liv and Chris had already left for class. Harry was standing the hall, just in a towel, waiting for you to finish. When he hears the water turn off, he sighs with relief. When she didn’t come out right away, he groans.

“The fuck is she doin’ in there.” He knocks on the door. “Y/N?! I’m runnin’ late, and I need to shower!”

She opens the door immediately and they both freeze. Her eyes fall to the towel that was hanging low on his waist, and then up to him. Her towel wasn’t exactly as secure as it could be either. Her hair was just brushed out and dripping wet down her chest.

“I’m so sorry, why didn’t you knock sooner? I, uh, just let me grab my blow dryer…” She snatches it and scoots by him.

“I’ll be quick if you need to get back in there…”

“Thanks.”

Harry takes his very quick, and semi-cold shower, and gets ready for class. He had ab out ten minutes to spare. Y/N comes down the stairs, and slips into the bathroom to grab some spare tampons, and bumps into Harry on her way out, causing her to drop them.

“Shit sorry, I’m fuckin’ up your entire routine this mornin’.” He bends down to pick up what he caused her to drop and blushes when he sees that they’re tampons. He grabs them anyways and hands them to her.

“It’s okay, really.” She takes them and sticks them in her bag. “Um…well, have a good day Harry.”

“You too.”

“Y/N?” Harry knocks on her bedroom door late one night. She climbs out of bed and goes down the few steps to open it.

“Is everything okay, Harry?”

“Yeah, I think Liv and Chris fell asleep…and I really don’t wanna sleep on the couch, nor do I wanna go in there in case they decide to get busy again.” He huffs. He looked exhausted, he was at the studio all evening and just wanted to sleep.

“Oh! Well…okay, I could sleep in her bed if you wanna sleep in mine?”

He follows her up the stairs.

“I’ll just sleep in hers, we’re all close enough now. She doesn’t really have a leg to stand on to say much about it.” He yawns and takes his shirt off.

“Okay.” He watches as she uses the small step stool to get back into her bed. He waits until she’s scrolling on her phone to take his pants off, and he climbs into Liv’s bed. “I’m gonna turn the light off now.”

“Alright.”

“Goodnight, Harry.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

Similar nights to those kept happening, and Harry was starting to get aggravated, so he called for a roommate meeting to discuss it.

“I’m sick of not bein’ able to sleep in my own bed. I know I’m not here a lot, but when I am, I’d like to be able to just go to my room and go to sleep.”

“You’re right, Harry. I’m sorry.” Liv says, sort of embarrassed.

“I think you two should just share a room. It’s clear that’s what you want anyways.”

“But what about Y/N?” Liv looks at her.

“I feel like Harry’s been my roommate anyways.” She shrugs. “We share every other room with guys, guess I wouldn’t mind rooming with one either.”

“What if your parents find out?” Chris asks.

“It’s not like we’re gonna push the bed together and sleep next to each other like you both are probably gonna do. He’ll have his side, and I’ll have mine. I think it makes the most sense too.”

That afternoon everyone helps move things around. Liv gets situated with Chris while Harry gets his things the way he likes.

“You know secretly, I’m happy they didn’t ask for the bigger room. It’s way nicer up here.” Harry says, sitting down on his new bed. “You sure you’re okay with this? I don’t wanna take away your privacy…”

“I’ll just change in the bathroom more.” She shrugs. “Or, I mean, just look the other way if I happen to need to change quick up here and I’ll give you the same courtesy.”

“I know I’m not here a lot on the weekends, but for the times I am, I mean, uh, like do you ever bring anyone back here with you? If you could just text me a warning or somethin’ or put somethin’ on the door.”

“I don’t…I haven’t, um, it’s been a dry start to the semester.” She blushes. “I had my period, and then I’ve started to get busy with my classes…I’ve gone out a few times, but there’s also no one I’ve really wanted to hook up with. Don’t worry, if the occasion happens I’ll give you a heads up.”

“Cool.”

“Is that what you’re out doing on the weekends? Hooking up?”

“Sometimes…mostly I just end up sleepin’ at Matt’s. They have a futon for me there for when I get too drunk to walk all the way back here. You should come out to another party, he’s havin’ people over tonight if you wanna come. Let the lovebirds down there have a little privacy.”

“Good idea, yeah, that sounds like fun.” She gets up and goes into her closet to pick out a casual dress. “Is your friend Matt single?” She asks without looking at him.

“Uh, yeah. Why?”

“I don’t know…I think he’s cute, and he was really nice to me last time I was there. Gave me a bunch to drink.”

“Well, that’s just common courtesy when you bring a girl to a party. Get her all liquored up.” Harry smirks.

“Mhm.” She rolls her eyes at him, and grabs a blue dress from her closet and her jean jacket. “Do you think he’d be into me?”

“What’s not to be into?”

“Oh stop it.”

“M’serious! You’re really nice, and you’re cute. He’d go for you.”

“Thanks, Harry.”

Harry walks Y/N to the party after pregaming a bit at their place.

“Harry!” Matt says as he walks in. “And you brought Y/N again, hey.”

“Hi.” They smile at each other.

“We’re just setting a game of flip cup up in the kitchen, you guys wanna play?”

“Sure!” Y/N says brightly.

The night was a lot of fun. Harry found himself talking to some girl who was clearly trying to get him to go home with her, but in the pit of his stomach he wanted to make sure you got home okay.

“Let me just find my friend and make sure she’s all set, okay?” He say, leaning into the girl and she nods.

Harry searches for you. Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen Matt in a while either. He walks into the kitchen and stops short when he sees Y/N sitting up on the counter with her legs wrapped around Matt’s waist, and his tongue down her throat. He wants to say something, but he opts to just text her that he’s left with someone.

“She’s all set, let’s go.” He takes the girl by her hand and leads her out of the house.

She tells him where she lives and that her roommate was gone for the weekend so they wouldn’t be disturbed. She was a good shag, Harry was having fun, but just as he coming an image of Y/N’s legs wrapped around his own waist, instead of Matt’s popped into his head.

“Shit.” He groans and looks down at the girl underneath him. She smiles up at him and he smiles back.

He pulls out and throws the condom away. She frowns when he starts to get dressed.

“You don’t have to leave…”

“I know, usually I would spend the night, but…uh…I.” He sighs and looks at her. “Listen, I don’t really have a good excuse, I just wanna go sleep in my own bed, I’m sorry.” He leans in and kisses her forehead. “I had a lot of fun though.” He gives her a reassuring smile. “You have my number?”

“Yeah.”

“Text me anytime.” He winks, and leaves her there.

When Harry gets back to his empty room, he’s not entirely sure what it is about it that’s bothering him. Eventually he’s able to fall asleep, but he’s woken up a few hours later by the sounds of Y/N coming up the few steps to their room. She was carrying her shoes to not make much noise. She gently opens her dresser drawer to grab a large t-shirt and shorts. He looks away while she changes, not that he could really see her anyways with how dark the room was. He hears her get into bed, and the satisfied sigh she makes turns his stomach.

The light creeping in from the curtains punched Harry in the face. He sits up and see Y/N on her side facing him, scrolling on her phone. She looks up at him when she sees he’s awake.

“Morning.” She says quietly.

“Hey.” He stretches and gets up. Even though they’d been sharing a room for a while, she would never get used to seeing him in just a pair of boxers. “M’takin’ a shower.”

“Okay.” He stops short before going down the stairs.

“What time did you get home last night?”

“Um…like 3AM I think. I was surprised to see your shoes downstairs. I’m glad I caught them or I would’ve flipped the light on and barreled up here.” She laughs. “I thought you went home with someone.”

“I did.”

“Oh.”

“Didn’t feel like spendin’ the night.” She hums her response. “Did you hook up with Matt?”

“Yeah.” You blush. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, why the fuck would I care?” He crosses his arms.

“I don’t know…I mean I figured you knew what my intention was since I asked you if he was single, but if you don’t want me hooking up with your friends, I don’t have to again.”

“So if I really had a problem with it, you wouldn’t fuck him again?”

“If you had a valid reason, sure. I mean…it was a nice hook up, but not the best I ever had. It’s not like I need to have his dick again.” Harry had never really hard Y/N talk like that before, it surprised him. “Oh god, don’t tell him I said that…”

“What wasn’t good about it?”

“I…what?”

“Well, if it wasn’t the best you ever had, what wasn’t good about it? Come on, you can tell me?” He leans back against the wall.

“I didn’t get off.” She says bluntly.

“Oh.”

“And I had to fake it so we could be done.” Her cheeks grew redder.

“You sounded pretty satisfied when you got back…”

“I sighed with relief because I was exhausted and was finally in my comfy bed.”

“So you faked it.”

“Mhm.”

“Why not just tell him he was doin’ it wrong.”

“He was so drunk, Harry, I don’t think it would’ve made a difference. He passed out after, and I slipped out the door.”

“Wait, you walked back by yourself?” He frowns.

“Yeah.”

“If that happens again, just call me, okay? I don’t like that.”

“But you were with someone.”

“So? I’m always there for my friends, come on Y/N. What if somethin’ bad happened?”

“Okay, okay, I won’t walk alone again.”

“Good.”

“Go shower so I can shower, will you?”

“We could just save water and shower together.” He jokes, and she whips her pillow at him. “Oi!” He picks it up and whips it back at her, making her laugh.

Harry came home with paint all over his hands, and was scrubbing them profusely when Y/N came in through the door.

“Thank god it’s Friday, I’m beat.” You sigh and flop onto the couch.

“Me too, I think I’m gonna stay in tonight.”

“Oh?” She was shocked.

“Mhm.” He sits down next to her. “Might play some video games or somethin’. What about you, do you have plans?”

“As of right now, no. But who knows, my friends my text and say something’s happening.” She shrugs.

“We could hang out if you wanted.”

“What would you wanna do?”

“We could watch a movie.”

“Sure! That sounds nice actually. We should see if Liv and Chris wanna join. I feel like we never all hang out.”

Harry was annoyed, but not visibly. He really hated hanging out with couples.

That night the four get cozy on the couch for a movie. Chris made everyone drinks, and Y/N popped some popcorn. The girls sit in the middle of the couch while the boys take the end seats. Not that that mattered, because eventually Chris pulled Liv into his lap, and they got comfortable together. The wine Y/N had been drinking was making her sleepy, and her head dropped onto Harry’s shoulder, not that he minded.

She wakes up to the feeling of being carried up to their room.

“Harry?” He sets her down on her bed.

“Yeh fell asleep.” He smooths her hair away from her face. “Brought yeh up.”

“Do you…never mind.”

“What?”

“I don’t know…it’s stupid, never mind.”

“Y/N, would you just tell me what you want?”

“Well…sometimes I get a little jealous that Chris and Liv can just cuddle, and I didn’t know if you’d wanna have a platonic cuddle with me for a bit.”

“A platonic cuddle?”

“Yeah, but only if you want.”

“What does that entail exactly?”

“Well, you could lay next to me and I could just rest my head on your chest. No spooning unless I’m the big spoon.”

“Why’s that?” He chuckles. “Not that I don’t like being the little spoon.”

“I wouldn’t wanna give you a boner if I was little spoon.”

“Ah, right, because I have zero zelf control.”

“Do you wanna cuddle or not?”

“Yeah, alright.”

He climbs onto her bed and lays flat on his back so she can rest her head on his chest, just like she wanted. He puts an arm around her and rests his hand on her shoulder. What Y/N didn’t know was that Harry had gotten a booty call text, and was supposed to be out the door, but this was something that Harry just couldn’t say no to, so he texts the girl and apologizes, and tells her he’ll be over another time. He feels her nuzzle into his chest further. Harry realizes he very much likes the attention he’s getting from wine-drunk Y/N.

They both asleep like that, cuddled together on Y/N’s bed. Her eyes fluttered open, at first she was confused when she saw Harry, but then she remembered she asked him to cuddle with her. She didn’t remember getting so comfy she had fallen asleep. Both of his arms were around her, and she had a leg over one of his. His lips were parted and light snores were coming from him. Y/N desperately needed to pee, but she also didn’t want to disturb him. She notices his phone lighting up with texts, and her curiosity got the better of her. After all, it could’ve been an emergency.

Lindsay – Matt’s Party: are you serious? 12:04AM

Lindsay – Matt’s Party: you’re rly not coming over? 12:07AM

Lindsay – Matt’s Party: this is the 3rd time you’ve done this, H. I’m done. 12:15AM

Y/N sets his phone back down, and looks back up at him with a raised eyebrow.

He blew off some girl for me? She thinks to herself. He could’ve gone…maybe he didn’t really like her that much.

Harry’s eyebrows furrow and his eyes slowly open. He has the same slight confusion Y/N did, but then he relaxes when he remembers he voluntarily slept next to her.

“Hey.” He mumbles in a sleepy voice, one she had gotten quite used to and liked a lot.

“Hi.” The air suddenly felt awkward. “I need to pee.”

“Okay.”

“I didn’t wanna wake you up.”

“Okay.”

“So, I’ll just…”

She sits up slightly, and ends up straddling him to try to climb over him. Her head suddenly started hurting and she almost fell off. Harry grabs her by her hips to steady her.

“You’re like really clumsy.” He says to her.

“I’m aware.” She looks down at his hands. “I still need to pee, can you let go of me.”

His cheeks heat up and he lets go of her so she can continue trying to get off her bed. Harry was still tired, and he could easily go slip into his bed, but he liked Y/N’s bed, for whatever reason. So he rolls onto his side and checks his phone.

“Fuck.” He says when he sees the texts from Lindsay. He thinks to text her back and apologize, but he didn’t want to lead her on anymore because odds are he’d stand her up again. ]

Y/N comes back up a few minutes later, feeling much better after having used the toilet and brushed her teeth. She chuckles when she sees Harry still on her bed.

“What are you doing?”

“M’not awake enough to move yet.” He mumbles as she grabs some clothes from her dresser.

“Well, I have some homework I need to get done, so I’m gonna shower and then go to the library.”

“I’ll be at the studio most of the day, and then I’ll probably go to Matt’s tonight…”

“Okay.”

He watches her go back down the stairs and he sits up. The two had gotten into the habit of giving each other a play by play of their plans. Harry figured it was just common courtesy as a roommate, but maybe it was a little bit more. It was like they were an old married couple who slept on two different beds. Harry changes into some new clothes quick and goes downstairs. Chris was eating some breakfast as he grabs a Gatorade from the fridge.

“Mornin’, mate.” Harry says, taking a sip of his drink.

“Morning, thought you went out last night?”

“Nope, I stayed in with Y/N instead.” He shrugs. “I feel kinda bad, the girl was pissed…but I think it was for the best.”

Things were a tad awkward between Harry and Matt since Y/N slept with Matt and never really followed up.

“Did she ever say anything to you?”

“No.” Harry lies. “You hook up with girls all the time, why are you hung up on her?”

“I don’t know, she was a good fuck, I’d like to hit it again.” Harry rolls his eyes as bites down on his cup. “You haven’t brought her here since.”

“She hasn’t seemed interested.” Harry shrugs and turns to see Lindsay talking to her friends. They make eye contact and she flips him off. “Jesus.” He walks over to her. “Can we talk?”

“Why? Because you suddenly have the time?” She huffs.

“Please?”

“Fine.” They step aside from her friends.

“You know, you act like I didn’t even tell you I couldn’t come over…”

“One second you’re saying see you ten, and the next you’re saying not tonight. So what happened? Get a better offer?”

Yes.

“No, it wasn’t that…my roommate needed me…”

“Right, the girl you conveniently share a room with.” She crosses her arms.

“It’s only like that because our friends are dating.”

“What did she need from you then, Harry? Your dick?”

“No!” He groans. “It’s not like that with us, we’re just friends.”

“So then what did she need?”

“She got a little wine drunk, and she seemed like she needed me to stay, so I did. She didn’t know I had other plans when she asked me to hang out a little longer…” Not a total lie, not a total truth. “I really did wanna see you.” He puts his hand on her shoulder.

“I hate how crazy you boys make me, I swear. It’s not like you’re the only person I’m hooking up with…”

“Yeah, same goes for me.”

“I just thought we had a regular thing going, and that was like the third time you blew me off. If you don’t wanna-“ Harry cuts her off by kissing her.

“Let’s get outta here.”

She nods and takes his hand. They walk back to her place, and start to get busy. He was just about to go down on her when his phone rings. He pops his head up to grab it.

“You can’t be serious.”

“It could be an emergency.” He sits up and squints to see it’s Y/N. “Hello?” He starts fingering Lindsay while he’s on the phone with her.

“Harry?” She slurs.

“What’s up?” He rubs Lindsay’s clit and her head rolls back into the pillow.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but.” She hiccups. “Liv and Chris left, or maybe I just can’t find them, anyways, I wanna go home, and you told me to-“

“Where are you?”

“On Russell actually…uhhhhh, 19D I think.”

“Okay, I can be there in like ten minutes, can you hang tight?”

“Mhm. I’ll sit out on the steps for you.”

“Okay.” He hangs up and tosses his phone. “What?”

“You’re a nutbag.”

“Do you want me to fuck you or not? Yeh get me for ten minutes, how do you want it?”

Y/N was sitting on the front steps of the house she was at, waiting for Harry. She was slightly cold from the crisp fall air.

Harry: be there soon :) 1:30AM

She sighs with relief when she gets his text. She sees him walking up the drive and stands up and walks towards him.

“I’m so sorry if I ruined your night.” She stumbles as she walks over to him.

“You didn’t, I’m glad you called.” He hooks his arm around her waist to steady her.

“You smell like perfume.”

“I just hooked with someone, sorry.”

“You what?!” She starts laughing.

“I was in the middle of it when you called, actually.” He starts laughing. “She wasn’t too happy, but I made up for it. Although I deleted her number after I left, it was sort of a parting gift.”

“Sometimes I forget you can be just like every other guy.” She scoffs.

“Hey, I told her it was the last time before I left. She said it was probably for the best anyways.”

“Oh, well as long as she knows.”

“I thought you didn’t really go to parties like this often.”

“I don’t…but Chris got invited out so he brought me and Liv with him, and we all drank a lot. I don’t know how I lost them. I texted them both and told them you were coming for me.” She looks down at the heels on her feet. “I have to take these off, they hurt.”

“It’s too cold to walk barefoot. Lemme give you a piggyback ride.”

“Really?!”

“Sure.” He shrugs.

Y/N gets on his back, and he carries her the rest of the way home. When he gets her inside they see Chris and Liv on the couch.

“There you two are?!” Y/N yells as Harry sets her down. “Where the fuck did you two go?”

“Liv got sick at the party, so I brought her home, we’re so sorry Y/N.” Chris says standing up.

“Yeah, Y/N…this is the first time in over an hour I haven’t had my head in the toilet. Chris cleaned it up so it’s all good.”

“Well I’m sorry you got sick.” She starts unbuttoning her pants and scurries to the bathroom. “I have to pee so bad!”

“Thanks for getting her.” Chris rubs the back of his neck.

“It was no problem. I told her I didn’t want her walkin’ alone and to call me if she was in a place where that might happen.”

Y/N comes out of the bathroom and looks at everyone.

“Feel like I’m gonna pass out so I’m going to bed.”

“I’m gonna take a quick shower, I’ll be up soon.”

“Okay.”

“You two sound like us.” Liv jokes.

“M’just bein’ courteous.” Harry points out and goes to take his shower. He didn’t wanna smell like Lindsay anymore.

When he gets upstairs, only in his towel, he see Y/N sitting up in bed wearing just a large t-shirt and panties. Harry walks by her quick and hope to god his face isn’t red.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?” He turns to look at her.

“Would you come cuddle again?”

“Course. Now turn around so I can change.”

She playfully covers her eyes and he shakes his head as slides his boxers on.

“This is all I’m wearin’, hope that’s okay.”

“S’fine with me.” She yawns, and he turns off the light.

“Scootch over.” Instead she just rolls onto her side, facing the wall. “Thought you said no spooning.”

“Thought you said you had self-control.”

“I do…” He looks down and sees the t-shirt was now bunched around her hips and he could see the lovely curve of her ass in her cheeky panties. “Just don’t wiggle against me like a brat.”

“I’m never a brat.”

“Mhm.” He mumbles sarcastically as he settles in. He slips a leg between hers, and wraps an arm around her stomach. She adjust against him, just to get comfier, and they both settle.

“Goodnight, Harry.” She yawns.

“Night.” He liked the smell of her perfume much better.

“What the hell happened up here?” Liv cackles the next morning, well, more like afternoon, it was already noon. Harry and Y/N wake up and groan. Harry was still spooning her.

“Liv…no offense, but this isn’t your room anymore.” Y/N groans as she rubs the sleep from her eyes.

“I just came up to grab my sweatshirt that I let you borrow a couple days ago, but I can see I walked in on something. How long has this been going on for?”

“How long has what been goin’ on for? We’re just sleepin’.”

“Harry you don’t have any clothes on!”

“Not true! I’m wearin’ boxers.”

“What’s wrong with your bed?”

“I asked him to sleep with me, just sleep, well cuddle really.” Y/N speaks up. “It’s platonic.”

“Yeah, not all of us have a boyfriend to go to sleep with every night, Liv.”

“Well, pardon me.” She scoffs and grabs her sweatshirt. “You know it wouldn’t be a big deal if you two hooked up. I think it would make sense, and-“

“Goodbye, Liv, have a nice lunch with Chris’ parents.” Y/N says. “Hope you’re feeling better.”

“Much…and I’ll tell them you say hi.”

“Thanks.”

They watch as she goes back down the stairs, and then look at each other.

“Wanna grab brunch downtown?” Harry asks.

“God, that sounds amazing. Just let me jump in the shower quick?”

“Go for it.”

Harry waits for her to leave before getting out of bed. He removes the blanket and looks down at his morning wood. He was sort of glad Liv woke them up so Y/N didn’t have time to notice it poking her. Or maybe she did and just didn’t say anything or care. Either way he wasn’t going to say anything.

He gets dressed quick and waits for her in the living area. Once she’s ready they walk downtown to the diner, and get a booth for two. They both order coffee and water.

“Wanna split some hashbrowns?” She asks, looking at the menu. “I might get a veggie omelet.”

“Yeah, we could do that. That sounds good too, I think I’ll get the same.” He chuckles.

They both give their orders to the waitress.

“I hope Liv didn’t bother you, you can sleep in my bed any time you want. I kinda like having your wait on me.” She blushes.

“You mean your three weighted blankets aren’t enough for you?” He laughs.

“I do not have three…I have two, and no, they’re not.” She crosses her arms. “I don’t really think it’s that weird.”

“It’s only happened twice too…” He takes a sip of his coffee. “Your bed is way comfier than mine, so I think I’ll be taking you up on that more often than not.”

“Works for me.” She smiles. “I’m really glad we’ve gotten so close, Harry.” She puts her hand over his and it gives him goosebumps. “You’re like my best guy friend.” A punch right to his gut.

“I’m glad we’ve gotten closer too.”

It didn’t happen every night, but Harry and Y/N had gotten into a habit of cuddling and falling asleep together pretty often. There was just something soothing about it for the both of them.

“What the fuck happened up here?” Harry says coming home late from the studio one Thursday night.

“I’m so sorry, I have like two midterms tomorrow and I’m trying to study for both of them and I’m freaking out!”

Y/N had papers and books all over the place. Her laptop was open and she had music playing.

“How long have you been studying for?”

“Hours.” She groans.

“Well, maybe you need a break.”

“I can’t take a break! What if I don’t…what are you doing?!”

He was in the middle of taking his clothes off.

“Hi, I’m Harry, and I tend to get paint all over me, so it required me to change quite frequently. What’s your name?”

“Your sarcasm isn’t helpful. You’re supposed to tell me to turn around.” She pouts.

“Y/N.” He sighs. “You’ve seen me in next to nothing, and to be honest, I don’t really care if you look.”

“You don’t?”

“No.” He throws on a fresh shirt and some sweatpants. He sits down on the floor in front of her. “Look all you want.” He shrugs and picks up her flashcards.

“What are you doing?”

“M’gonna help you study.”

“You don’t have to. I’m sure there are better things you could be doing with your Thursday night.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, don’t you have some girl you need to go fuck?” Harry’s jaw drops. “I’m so sorry, that sounded meaner than it was supposed to. I didn’t mean-“

“But you still said it.” He shakes his head at her. “Is that what you think of me? Some guy that just fucks a ton of girls.”

“Well, to be fair, you do fuck a lot of girls, Harry.”

“A lot of guys do.” He huffs, and then he smirks at you. “You know what your problem is?”

“What’s my problem?”

“You don’t get fucked enough, no scratch that, you don’t get off enough. That’s why you’re so stressed. You get A’s all the time, you know this shit. You’re just tense because you can’t get there, and you share a room with a dude so it’s not like you’re gettin’ yourself there, unless you’re doin’ it in the shower.”

“Would you listen to yourself?” She laughs. “Can you please quiz me?”

“Thought I had better things to do?” He grins.

“Harry.” She sighs.

“Okay, okay.” He squints at the flashcard. “What is Andre Bazin’s main film theory?”

“Realism.”

“Correct, see, you know this.”

“That’s an easy one!”

“I still think you’re just wound up.”

“Would you like to do something about it?” She scoffs.

“I would, actually.” He puts the cards down.

“What? I was kidding, Harry.”

“Well…I’m not.” He sighs.

“You…wait, I’m very confused.”

“To be blunt, I’d like to have sex with you.” Her eyes grow wide and her cheeks flush. “But…I don’t wanna do anything that might ruin-“

“Go down and lock our door.” He’s stunned.

“Wait, really?”

“Do it before I change my mind.” She whispers.

Harry stands up and quietly goes down to lock their door. When he comes back up he sees Y/N bent over cleaning everything up off the floor. She puts everything on her desk, and turns her twinkling lights on. Then she turns the main light off, creating more of an atmosphere.

“You really wanna do this?” Harry asks.

“You’re like the hottest guy I’ve ever met, of course I want to…I just didn’t think you wanted to. You treat me like your little sister or something sometimes.”

“I…wouldn’t call the way we sleep the way I would sleep next to my sister.”

“You really do like grind right into me.”

“So you have noticed that.”

“Of course I have…I just figured it was something all guys did in the morning so I never said anything.”

“You’re on the pill?” He asks, stepping closing to her.

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to use a condom?”

“Yes.”

He nods and goes into his desk drawer to grab a couple, he sets them down.

“Let’s do it on my bed, it’ll make less noise, yours will rock too much since it’s up higher.” She nods and goes over to his bed and sits down. He sits down next to her. “You’re positive?”

“Yes.”

He caresses her cheek.

“You’re shaking.” He says softly.

“I’m nervous.”

“Why? S’just me.”

“That’s exactly why I’m nervous. You’ve always made me nervous, Harry. I’ve just been good at hiding it.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“Because we have a really good, chill thing going here. And I like being your friend.”

“This doesn’t have to ruin anything…” He cups both of her cheeks with his hands. “Let me make you feel good, Y/N.”

“Okay.”

He pulls her in and crashes her lips to his. Her eyes flutter closed as he swipes his tongue across her bottom lip, and she opens up for him. He tasted just like the mint gum he chewed constantly. She was making out with the guy every girl wanted. Y/N knew about Harry’s reputation, but she also knew a different side of him. She knew the side of him that liked his head scratched to help him fall asleep, and the way he really did just want a banana and nothing more for breakfast, and the way his hands always smelled like paint no matter how many times he scrubbed them.

He pulls back from her to get some air, or so she things, but his lips connect with her jaw and then to just under her earlobe. She gasps when she feels him suck on her skin, but she loves it. She wasn’t sure what to do with herself, so she just grips at his shoulders, while his hands roam down to her hips.

In a swift motion, he sits back on the bed, and pulls her onto his lap so she’s straddling him. She rolls her hips down on his while they’re lips find each other again. He groans against her bites down on her bottom lip. He hands tug at the hem of her shirt.

“Can I take this off?” He says, panting.

“Yes.”

He lifts it up over her head, revealing a sports bra that was really pushing her boobs up. He pulls her close and kisses on the tops of her breasts while she continues to grind down on him. She was starting to feel how hard he was and it was making her wet.

“Just take it off.” She says.

He nods and lifts the bra off her. He moves to take his own shirt off as well before cupping her breasts in his large hands. He tweaks her nipples, making her head roll back.

“I’ve wanted to see you like this for a long time, Y/N.” He says as he wraps his lips around her, sucking one of her breasts into his mouth, and letting it go with a pop.

“You have?” She gasps as he does the same thing to other one.

“You have no idea.”

He pulls her close so they’re chests are flush and they go back to kissing. His hands slide down to the globes of her ass and he gives her a good squeeze. He shifts them to lay her down, and she wraps her legs around his waist, just like how he’s wanted for a while. He kisses down her neck, chest, stomach, and then hooks his fingers into her leggings.

“You’re sure?”

“Please, just get them off. Get my underwear off, just take everything off of me.”

He smirks and does everything she says. She was full exposed to him and it was a glorious sight to see. Every curve, every dip, every mark on her was beautiful. He kisses her left knee and works his way to her inner thigh. He looks up at her one more time and he gives him an approving nod. She grips the blankets when she feels his tongue on her. Her hips buck up towards him, but he uses his arm to press down on her waist. He gives her a few slow licks at first, and then flicks his tongue back and forth on her clit. She moans softly, and then grits her teeth when he sucks on her. Her hands fly to his hair when she feels a finger slip inside. He looks up at her again and she just nods yes.

His mouth works her clit while he pumps in and out of her, knuckles deep, curling his fingers up. She gasps and groans, desperately trying to stay quiet so Liv and Chris don’t hear anything. Y/N’s legs were shaking around Harry, and he loved it. Her back was arching, he could tell she was close from the way she clenching around his fingers.

“Oh, shit!” She gasps and claps a hand over her mouth.

Harry waits for her to finish riding for him to pull his fingers out. She watches as he sucks them into his mouth, and hers falls open. She blinks tears away.

“Are you crying?” He runs a thumb under one of her eyes.

“I just…um…that was intense is all.”

“Do you wanna keep going?”

“Yes.” She props herself up on her elbows. “Do you want me to, uh, return the favor?”

“Maybe another time.” He stands up and pulls his joggers down. “I really just wanna fuck you, if that’s alright.”

“Mhm.” She smiles. Wow, we haven’t even finished yet and he’s already talking about another time. She thinks to herself.

She watches as Harry slowly takes his boxers off. Her eyes grow wide when she see it. It was big, and thick. Suddenly her mouth felt dry. He grabs a condom from his desk and rolls it on with ease. He gets back on the bed, between her legs.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re certain?”

“Yes, Harry, I want you.”

He smiles and kisses her quick. He looks down so he can line himself up with her dripping center. He slowly presses his tip in, and she can already feel him stretching her out. He accidentally slides in a little fast, though.

“Holy shit!” She moans loudly, and he presses his hand over her mouth. Her eyes were wild looking up at him.

“I know, okay, I know, but if you wanna do this you need to stay fucking quiet. I don’t want them to hear. Can you do that f’me, Y/N?” She nods her head yes, and he takes his hand away. “I didn’t mean to just shove it in like that, m’sorry.”

“S’okay, it felt good.” She giggles. He looks down between them.

“S’really snug…you’re so tight.” His words make her clench around him. “Can I move?”

“Please.”

Harry pulls out slightly and thrusts back in, and eventually he found a pace that suited the both of them. He buries his head in the crook of her neck, and hooks his arm under one of her legs, while her other leg was wrapped around his waist. Her nails were digging into his back, and it all just felt so fucking good. Her face was hidden in her shoulder to keep her moans and cries muffled.

“Takin’ it so well, Y/N.” He peppers kisses to her sweaty forehead. He drops her leg and uses both of his arms to prop himself up so he could really give it to her. The bed was shaking, but it wasn’t making much noise. “How’s it feel?”

“So good, so fucking good.”

“Yeah? Like havin’ me in you like this?”

“Yes!” She gasps as he hits her g-spot. “Oh my god.” She says shocked and then looks up at him. “Do…do that again.” He gives her another thrust right on the spot and her eyes roll into the back of her head.

“You’ve never come vaginally before, have you?” He grins.

“No.”

“Oh, baby…hold on tight.”

She grips his shoulders while he hits the spot over and over. Her teeth were clenched, trying so very hard not to make much noise, but when he hits it just right again, she lets go and cries out. Harry crashes his mouth to hers to swallow it best he can. She was writhing beneath him, having never had orgasm so strong before. Harry can’t last much longer after that, and spills into the condom. He collapses on top of her for a moment or two, just trying to catch his breath. He slowly pulls out of her and she winces.

“Sorry.” He whispers. “You…might be a little sore.”

“A little?” She scoffs. “I can’t believe you fit that whole thing inside of me.” She sits up and grabs her shirt. When she stands her legs feel like jello.

“Where are you goin’?”

“I have to pee, you went down on me, I’m not gonna risk getting a UTI. Just get into my bed, I’ll be back in a second.” He smiles and nods. He was happy she wanted to cuddle.

It stung when she went to the bathroom like she figured it would. She was thankful Liv and Chris didn’t seem to be awake. She fills a glass of water and brings it up with her. She takes a sip and hands it to Harry as she climbs into bed. He takes generous sip and hands it back to her to finish. He puts it on her desk when she’s done. They both sink down and she lays her head on his chest.

“How do you feel?” He asks, breaking the silence.

“Good, how do you feel?”

“Good…didn’t realize there was that much tension between us.” He chuckles.

“Harry, I don’t wanna be one of those girls, but what’s supposed to happen next…”

“We’re gonna cuddle and go to sleep like we usually do. Then tomorrow you’re gonna ace your midterms.”

“And after that?” She looks up at him, and he looks down at her.

“I think I only wanna be a one woman kinda guy…” She smiles up at him. “Would you wanna try going out on a date?”

“There’s a free skate happening down at the ice arena on Saturday night…any interest?”

“No interest in doin’ anything tomorrow?”

“Someone’s a bit eager.” She smirks.

“Alright, ice skating actually sounds good for Saturday. I have a couple of midterms tomorrow too that are gonna take a lot outa me.”

“How about pizza and a movie tomorrow night then?”

“Oh, I like the sound of that.” He kisses her hair line. “What should we do about Chris and Liv?”

“Let’s see how a couple of dates go before we tell them anything.”

“Good idea, although, I’m sure they probably heard you.”

“I wasn’t that loud, and it wasn’t my fault if I was.” She swats at his chest.

“True.” He looks over at his bed. “This could work really well. Use my bed for the fucking, and then we have your nice comfy bed for sleepin’.”

“Yeah, and then there’s no gross wet spot to worry about.” She giggles, and he bursts out laughing.

“I didn’t hurt you or anything did?”

“No, not at all. It felt really good the whole time, I promise. It hurt when I went to the bathroom though.”

“M’sorry.” He sighs. “You were so tight, I didn’t really know how to be any gentler than I was.”

“It’s okay, really. You took really good care of me. I feel way more relaxed now. I think you were right about me just needing to de-stress before my exams.”

The two end up falling asleep, and it’s a miracle Y/N hears her alarm go off the next morning. Harry knew Chris and Liv would be gone already since they both have 8AM’s, so he gets up with Y/N to take a shower. They didn’t do anything sexual, but it certainly was an intimate shower. She thought about him all day, everything from last night replaying over and over in her mind. It was a wonder she could concentrate during her exams.

She orders the pizza when she gets in later and sets up the movie. She bumps into Liv after freshening up upstairs.

“Hey, haven’t see you all day. How’d your midterms go?” Liv asks, about to take a slice of pizza.

“That’s not for you!” Y/N yelps. “And they went fine, Harry, uh, helped me study last night.”

“Oh, good! And who’s it for?”

“It’s, um, for Harry, as a thank you for him staying in to help me last night.”

“Um, okay?”

“Sorry…in fact, I’m gonna go put it on his bed so no one touches it. What are you and Chris doing tonight?”

“We were gonna go to Charlotte’s place. Do you wanna come?”

“Nah, I’m exhausted, I’m gonna stay in, but thanks.”

Y/N: I’m bringing the pizza up to our room, I think we should watch the movie up here too…

Harry: are chris and liv home??

Y/N: for now, but I think they’re going out. I just don’t want them snooping

Harry: good call…I’ll be home soon btw, just finished one of my graphic design exams

Y/N: Yay!

Harry gets in, and goes right upstairs. He locks the door behind him. Y/N was sitting on his bed with her laptop and the box of pizza.

“Hey.” You smile.

“Hi.” He smiles back. “That still warm?”

“Mhm.”

“Think it’ll stay that way?” He asks, taking his shirt off.

“I guess we’ll find out.” She sets it on his desk, along with her laptop.

“Been thinkin’ about you all day.” He says, leaning down to kiss her. She lays back on the bed so he can get on top of her.

“Really?” He hums his response as he kisses on her neck. “I thought about you too.” He yanks her shirt up over her breasts and kisses on them. “Harry, I really wanna do this again, but I’m…too sore…” She sighs and he sits up. “But…maybe now I could return the favor.”

“Yeh wanna suck me off, baby?”

“Mhm.”

After one hell of a blowjob, Harry and Y/N cuddle up and crack open the pizza that was waiting to be eaten, and they start their movie.

“How do you think your exams went?” He asks.

“Good, I think I did really well. What about yours?”

“Piece of cake.” He scoffs. “Graphic design is so easy, I don’t know why Chris complains about it all the time.”

“He’s just not as creative as you are. I wish you’d hang more of your paintings up…”

“Really? I have some down at the studio I could bring home.”

“Please! I’d love it, and I’m not just saying that, I think you’re genuinely talented.”

“Thanks.” He kisses her temple.

“I have to say, I was nervous having a guy I barley know as a roommate this year, but it’s worked out way better than I ever could’ve imagined.” They both giggle.

“Mm, I’m sure your parents will be thrilled when they found out their fears came true.”

“God, I can’t even think about that.” She takes a bite of pizza. “I was gonna ask you to come home for Thanksgiving before all this happened, but now maybe that wouldn’t be such a great idea.”

“You were?” He gives her a thoughtful smile.

“Yeah…I didn’t know what you normally did.”

“I usually stay here and eat shitty food at the dining hall. I’d come home with you.”

“You would?”

“Sure.” He shrugs. “We’re tryin’ somethin’ new between us, but at the core we’re still friends right?”

“Yeah.”

“So then I’d love to come home with you for Thanksgiving either way, and I think it’s very nice of you to think of me.” He takes a bite of pizza. “Plus, then I can see if your family likes me at all.”

“Good point.” She puts the pizza box on the desk and nestles in closer to him. She looks up at him and puckers her lips. He happily gives her a kiss. “I like you, Harry.”

“I like you too.”

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles smut fic #harry styles smut #college!Harry #uni!Harry

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wbearv · 3 years

Text

Five times pt.1 | h.h.j. - k.s.m.

Member(s): Hyunjin, Seungmin

Genre(s): suggestive, angst (only a little bit, nothing serious)

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: heated makeout, hickeys, marking (kinda?)

Summary: Seungmin likes you but he never finds the courage to tell you. Hyunjin on the other hand, well, let's just say he knows what he likes and isn't scared to go for it.

masterlist

It had started as a joke, or so Seungmin thought.

“You know… if you don’t do it, I might give it a try” Hyunjin smirked, looking at Seungmin. “How long do you think it would take me to have her surrender to me?”

He is drunk, he’s not being serious.

“Hyunjin, stop” Seungmin was starting to get mad “Your jokes are not funny”.

“Ah, do you really think I’m bluffing?” Hyunjin got closer to the younger boy and looked him straight into his eyes “I can assure you I’m being dead serious here. I guess you just don’t like her that much, do you??”

Seungmin opened his mouth but nothing came out of it.

Hyunjin laughed and lifted his hand to ruffle Seungmin’s hair, smirking at him.

“Oh, but don’t worry Minnie, hyung will take care of it”.

Seungmin really laughed it off at first, but now?

He was pissed off.

He wanted to say something, anything; but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He might hate Hyunjin right now, but he hates himself more for not having the guts to step up.

Chapter 1: the one in the pool.

“We will be tipping into severe to extreme heatwave conditions-”

The faint sound of the tv playing in the room was the only thing you could hear, besides the fan of course.

“Temperatures are expected in the low to mid-40s for those locations, probably peaking tomorrow-”

The sound of the tv remote being thrown to the floor startled Seungmin, making him get up from the couch a little bit too quick, making him dizzy.

“The last thing I need is for them to tell me how much heat I am supposed to endure for the following, I don’t know, three fucking years?” Jisung said, letting himself fall onto the couch, fanning himself with a piece of cardboard angrily.

They were all thrown off due to this extreme heat wave that was making them all walk like miserable zombies around the house.

At least they had the pool party you were throwing that evening to celebrate your birthday and none of them could wait for it, specially Seungmin.

The party was supposed to start around 6pm but he decided he would go sooner so he could help you prepare everything; and hopefully, he could spend some alone time with you.

Time went by, and it seemed like an amazing idea until he realised Hyunjin hadn’t been around for a while at home.

“Hey guys, where’s Hyunjin?” Seungmin asked, entering the kitchen where Felix and Minho were preparing some food for said party.

“Oh, he left like half an hour ago. He said he was going to help y/n with setting the party up” Felix said calmly, not breaking eye contact with the sandwiches he was cutting in half.

“You know… if you don’t do it, I might give it a try”.

Hyunjin’s words resonated in his mind and, half a second later, he was walking rapidly out of the house.

“Seungmin! We are leaving for the party soon, where are you going?”

“I’m walking, I’ll see you there” He rushed to the hallway, closing the door harshly and ignoring his housmate’s confused looks and questions.

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

“Hey y/n where do you want me to put this?” Hyunjin shouted from the backyard, hoping that you would hear him. “it’s kinda heavy”.

“Oh, sorry Jinnie, em, wait!!” you screamed all the way from the kitchen.

You came running with all sorts of sweets and snacks that you could carry and left them all on top of a table to help Hyunjin carry the big tray with the main dishes.

“There I think is fine” you smiled proudly, wiping off the drops of sweat running across your forehead. “It’s getting really hot in here, why don’t we go inside until the rest arrive?” you turned around to look at Hyunjin, that was smiling at you.

“I have a better idea...” he approached you slowly, and before you could know it, he grabbed your waist and lifted you up “How does going for a dip sound, huh?”

“Hyunjin no! I have my phone with me, put me down!” you said trying to sound convincing.

He smirked and took your phone out of your pocket, throwing it on top of the deckchair.

“There, problem solved” Hyunjin was walking at a quick pace, making his way to the pool on the other side of the backyard.

“But I- I- I have my clothes on Hyunjin, at least let me change first!” You said and looked straight to his eyes, pleading and hoping it would do.

Hyunjin looked at you and smiled softly, and for a split second you really thought he would let you go.

Ha, so innocent.

“You know what?” he said looking at you, his face softening “nah, it’s your house you can change later”.

And faster than you could count to one, you were being thrown into the somewhat cold water of your pool.

Hyunjin, of course, was laughing his ass off while he stared at you from the outside.

“Come on y/n, admit that you feel so much better after your quick trip to the bottom of the pool” he said dipping his toes into the water of the pool you were currently in.

“Oh, yeah, I feel refreshed, thank you so much my saviour” you said, swimming slowly towards Hyunjin. “Now would you be so kind to help me out? I still have to feed the cat before the rest arrive” and you handed your hand to him, which he grabbed, still rejoicing in your defeat.

“Yeah, yeah sure” and when his hand touched yours, something clicked in his mind “Wait, y/n you don’t have a-”

The loud sound of water being splashed filled your ears, and you laughed loudly at the sight of Hyunjin falling into the water.

“-cat” Hyunjin said after cleaning his face and throwing his blonde hair back, and off his face. “What’s so funny, huh?” he got on his feet and being his tall himself, towered over you even inside the water.

You tried so hard to conceal your laugh but failed miserably. “nothing, nothing, I’m not laughing I-” then you looked down at his chest, rising rapidly from the scare, all covered in water drops.

Hyunjin had a spectacular body – not that you haven’t noticed it before – but seeing it bare first-hand was something else.

Suddenly you became aware of the position you both were currently in. You were practically pressed against the wall, with him standing only a mere 30 cm away from you. You were so caught up in your own thoughts that barely didn’t hear when Hyunjin spoke.

“What, like what you see?” he said cockily, looking at you while raising one of his brows.

“I- I wasn’t lo-” you said nervously looking away from him.

“Yeah, you were” Hyunjin grabbed your face and forced you to look at him “If you want to have a taste, there’s no one stopping you baby girl”.

Your eyes opened wide, and you were so shocked that you didn’t move for a second, until you noticed how he slowly started kissing up and down your neck while caressing your right arm. “C’mon, tell me what you want y/n” he licked slowly all the way up your neck until he was facing you again, lips only a few millimetres apart from yours.

“Hyunjin, I-” you didn’t even bother to finish the sentence, crashing your lips against his without a second thought.

Hyunjin grabbed you by your waist and pushed you against the wall, your legs around his waist. His tongue brushed against your lip and you unconsciously opened your mouth up for him. He slipped his tongue into your mouth and you let him dominate your tongue, him sucking on it before biting down on your lip.

“Jinnie, ah-” you could feel his hot breath and the smirk that formed in his mouth as he heard the sounds you were making for him – because of him.

He went on until he was satisfied, making sure there would be a purple mark in your neck soon after.

You both parted for a split second, catching a breath. You kissed his lips again, quickly turning into a heated makeout while Hyunjin’s hands wandered all over your body as if they were lost. You moaned at the feeling of his hands trailing everywhere, and he hummed in response. Hyunjin grabbed the back of your head, pulling you even deeper into the kiss. As you tilted your head, you trailed a hand down his chest and abdomen feeling him squirm under your touch.

After a while, you stopped rubbing your hands on his chest, and chose to start tugging on his long hair to what he moaned in your mouth, pressing his knee against your core.

You let out a moan that you tried holding in, but it involuntary came out when he started to suck on your neck. You gasped and put your hand on his shoulder, trying to stop him from sucking too hardly.

“Don’t mark me. They will see it.” That’s what you were able to say.

Out of all things.

Hyunjin smirked and he scoffed, only to suck harder onto your neck.

“I want them – him – to see this.” Hyunjin whispered in your neck as he continued to mark you up. He took off your shirt with a swift movement and left you only in your bikini, starting to kiss down your neck and onto your chest before ending up kissing the top of your breasts. He looked up at you with dark lustful eyes before reaching up and sliding off the straps of your top. He was just about to free you from it when Seungmin’s voice resonated outside the property, calling you both to open the door.

Hyunjin huffed frustrated and pulled away from you, not without giving you one last heated kiss, leaving your lips completely swollen – as if they were not swollen enough already.

Rapidly, you rearranged your top and, in less than 10 seconds you were already outside the pool, looking for your towel and opening the door to Seungmin.

“Hi Seungmin!” you said enthusiastically, trying to catch your breath.

“Hi y/n, I-” he began talking, looking at you in a way you couldn't quite decipher “why are you soaked?” he frowned.

“Oh! I fell to the pool, you know how clumsy I get” you laughed it off and excused yourself to go and grab some drinks from the kitchen, leaving the boys alone.

“What’s up bro, wanna take a dip?” Hyunjin said, calmly laying against the border of the pool. “It’s… really hot” he smirked.

Seungmin looked from Hyunjin to the living room on the inside where you were grabbing some glasses, and back to Hyunjin; trying so hard to ignore the faint pain he felt in his heart when he thought about the sound of your breathy whimpers that he swears he heard from outside.

Suddenly, the boys appeared behind Seungmin, and without notice, the party had already started.

Hours later, the sun set and the party calmed down a little bit while waiting for dinner to arrive, the night summer breeze making the heat more bearable.

“Hey, how’s that pizza going?” Jisung asked from the inside of the pool “I’m hungry” he pouted.

“It’s almost here Jisung, wait for a little bit more” you said, looking at the boy.

“But I’m hunnnnngry y/n” he fake cried.

“YOU HAD FIVE SERVINGS OF BARBACUE HOW CAN YOU BE SO HUNGRY!” Minho screamed from inside the house where he was playing games with Chan and Hyunjin.

While Jisung and Minho screamed back and forth to each other, you were sitting comfortably in a chair, laughing at the sight and enjoying the soft breeze of the night.

You looked amazing with that gauze dress you were wearing, your hair making subtle waves due to the pool’s water and your eyes shining in the bright light of the lights you had hung in the backyard that same evening.

Or, at least, that’s what Seungmin thought anyway.

He was determined, he would confess his feelings right here. He would not wait anymore, and so, he took a seat next to you, smiling shily when you looked at him.

“Hey” you said, smiling softly.

“Hey y/n” he moved his hands nervously, not knowing where to put them “So, I wanted to talk to you about something, erm…” he looked away for a second.

“Yes? What is it Seungmin?” you said, brushing your hair off your face – and subsequently neck – without realising.

“Well, I-” he looked at you, but suddenly his eyes were fixed, not on your face, but on your neck. More specifically, on the purplish mark that appeared in your skin, right in your pulse point area.

Seungmin froze, and the only thing that came to his mind was the image of your neck being kissed, you leaving small whimpers of pleasure, chanting his name.

Except it wasn’t his name.

“Hyunjin- ah!”

Seungmin closed his eyes, trying so hard to calm himself. What felt like an eternity to him was, in reality, only a few seconds of silence.

“Nothing y/n. Just wanted to say happy birthday.” He smiled to you, and if hearts could physically break, you could have heard his smashing into pieces.

You were left so confused, but before you could say anything, he had already disappeared inside the house.

Seungmin walked through the corridors on his way to the bathroom so he could wash his face and calm down to face the group when his chest crushed against someone.

“Seungmin” Hyunjin said, smiling at the younger boy “Are you enjoying the party?? I sure am.” He grinned.

“Hyunjin I am really not in the mood to put up with your stupid games. Leave me alone.” he said angrily.

Seungmin usually was a very calm person, he was not the one to scream or raise his voice at anyone.

“Hey, hey, chill” Hyunjin said, walking past him on his way to the door “If you’re so mad, why don’t you do something about it?”

Seungmin didn’t say a word, he just looked at Hyunjin hardly.

Turning around, he continued his way to the bathroom.

“why don’t you do something about it?” as Hyunjin’s words resonated in his mind he felt the most jealous he had ever felt.

He didn’t envy his face, his body, his dancing or his rapping. But he sure as hell envied how easy it was for Hyunjin to just go. for. It.

If only he could be honest with you, things might be different.

But I guess things don’t work out for the shy guy.

--------

a/n

hi guys it’s sonia! I've been writing fanfics for a long time now and I decided it was about time to post them in here. I'm sorry for any typos but I didn't really proofread this hahaha.

anyways I hope you enjoyed this and thank u so much for reading!

#straykids #straykids imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagine #hyunjin ff #hyunjin suggestive #hyunjin x reader #seungmin #seungmin ff #seungmin imagines #stray kids ff #suggestive #hyunjin imagines

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thatgoblin · 3 years

Text

RE Cul De Sac 1A

Welcome to the Neighborhood

Pairings: Leon x Chris

Summary: Leon finally is out from under the government's thumb and is trying to find his place with his new found freedom. A call from an old friend lets him know that he has a place if he doesn't want to stay in D.C. anymore. It just so happens to be with the mostly retired BSAA captain.

Warnings: None

Leon had never felt so exhausted before. Usually he was good with catching a few winks of sleep on the plane between missions and home, but he had passed out completely on the plane to the non-descript city that held his new life. Thankfully he was left alone even with the soft snores drifting around the cabin.

Ears back and eyes narrowed as his tail flicked around to warn anyone who may cross him, he trudged through the airport towards baggage claim. All of his stuff from his apartment had already been packed up and shipped, leaving him with just a few personal supplies and clothes as he finished up his leave of absence paperwork.

He hadn't quit the DOS, but he managed to secure a good few months of leave that would let him actually rest and have a life. With new people in charge, it was easy to get his leave approved as well as a change of address. Hell, Claire had said she'd get Chris and the others to put in a good word for him at the BSAA if it meant he'd stay off of active duty for a while.

While he appreciated the offer, he was going to take his time off first. It was an elusive animal and now that he had it in his hands, he didn't want to lose it.

Once at the carousel of bags, Leon grabbed his before pulling out his phone.

'Message when you get out front. We'll pull up to the curb to get you.'

Tucking his phone away, Leon headed out to the front. The airport itself wasn't actually that big, at least compared to others he'd travelled to. It was a straight shot from the gates to the baggage claim and then the pick up lanes outside. In fact it was a relief to be so simple. No trams or stairs to take, no one to pass because they're going slower than everyone else. It took him just five minutes to get from his gate to the front and that was when he stopped for his suitcase.

Standing at the curb, he took his phone out again and shot a quick text to Claire.

'I'm outside.'

The late September air felt so different from the muggy oceanside air in D.C. It was soft and had a slight breeze. Not scorching hot but not biting cold. It was that transition time where it was perfect to have the windows open all day and night before autumn truly hit.

A red truck pulled Leon from his thoughts as it stopped in front of him. Before he could even register who was in it, the passenger side door flew open and Claire jumped up to squeeze him.

"You made it!" She cried, grinning before letting go. Leon had no time to react as she grabbed his luggage to throw in the back seat of the cab then climbed in after it.

"Hey," Chris said, smiling at him and waving from behind the wheel.

"Hey," he replied, climbing into the truck. Once the door closed, Chris pulled away from the sidewalk.

"How was your flight?" Claire asked, leaning forward between the front seats onto the console. Her tail was wagging briskly, thumping against the seats as her ears were perked and ready to listen.

"It was okay. Slept through most of it," he said. "Just finished up paperwork at the office the night before and only got a few hours of sleep."

"Well, now you'll be able to catch up on your cat naps!" Claire said with a giggle.

"If I weren't so tired, I would give a sassy come back," Leon said with a snort as he shook his head.

"Ignore her," Chris said. "She's had 3 cups of coffee and has cleaned my house at least twice in the last 12 hours. Jill has kicked her out for the day because she's tried of Claire trying to rearrange the dishware in the kitchen."

"I just wanted to have things perfect for when you got here," Claire said with a heavy sigh. "Besides, Chris' house needed it. We even decorated it a bit better too. Now it actually looks like a home and not some squatters place. I swear Chris, sometimes I wonder if you like anything outside of work."

"You're one to talk," Chris said. "If it wasn't for Jill, your place would look like a frat house."

"No it wouldn't and you know that," Claire grumbled. "You're just mad that I have better taste than you."

"Oh no, whatever will I do?" He said, rolling his eyes as he pulled onto the highway.

"Probably have Piers invade and turn it into a military museum if you're not careful," Claire said with a snort.

"You talk too much," Chris huffed.

"And what's wrong with that?" Claire asked, narrowing her eyes.

"I don't know, but maybe the fact that Leon just got in the truck and he's already nodded off despite you chattering," Chris said with a smirk.

Looking at Leon, Claire say the cat boy had indeed nodded off. His face rested against his fist, propped up by his elbow on the window sill.

"Poor guy," Claire said, softening her voice to let her friend rest. "Probably hasn't had a decent night of sleep in a while."

"I'd say it's been a lot longer than just a while," Chris said, his own voice lowering.

The drive home wasn't that long, 20 minutes in the late morning traffic. Claire had settled down, letting Leon rest. Planning to do a few things together could wait. She had been so caught up in her excitement of having her friend move in next door that she forgot the hell he'd exited just a few weeks ago.

It had been rushed for sure, making time and space to get his things there before he did, then trying to figure out what to put in storage and what to put in his room. Leon had sold most of his furniture, really only bringing a few large items like his own TV and bed. His dishes and such were either sold or given away as well, making the move a bit easier.

He was given the guest room in Chris' house, a Dutch Colonial that had been the first house in the Cul de Sac, Albert Wesker's home was a recent addition next door to it.

That was how Chris found out about the older home next to him. Albert had talked about how there were bids to tear the house down because it was so old, built in the 30's and wasn't care of very well after the original owners passed away. The others had purchased the spots of land shortly afterwards before the Home Owners Associate could swoop in and try to put restrictions on what they could build. While theirs were built from the ground up, Chris took his as a project.

It was nearly three months of renovations, which was pretty quick considering how much work had been done, before he could move in completely. It took about the same time for the others' homes to be built.

"Should we wake him up?" Chris asked as he pulled into the driveway of his house.

"I mean, we can't let him sleep in the truck all day," Claire said.

Chris rolled his eyes at his sister who shrugged. Reaching over, he shook Leon a bit by the shoulder.

"Hey, we're home," he said.

The blond tabby opened his eyes before taking a deep breath and stretching.

"Cool." Opening the door, he stepped out and waited for Clair to hand him his luggage. Before she could, Chris was out and had it in his hands. "I can carry my own things," he called after the shepherd.

"Well, it's your first day home," Chris said, turning back to give the other a smile. "Better get used to having someone around for help."

"Does he always do that?" Leon asked, looking back at Claire.

"Basically my whole life," she said with a nod. The two followed the older man into the house, Leon taking in his surroundings the whole time. Inside, he was given a quick tour as there were only a few rooms on the first floor. The second floor was the bedrooms with a bathroom and shower, then the basement for storage.

Leon's room was across the hall from Chris', which was a small comfort of sorts for him.

"I'll go ahead and let you get settled in. I'm sure Claire will let you get some rest before barging in and dragging you off somewhere," Chris said, setting his bags on the bed.

"I was going to let him have the rest of the day to chill out," Claire said, crossing her arms. "Tomorrow is a different story though."

Leon raised a brow at the two, wondering if it had been such a good idea to move in with the Redfield siblings being so close in proximity.

"I'm going to pass out now. I'll try to be awake by dinner," Leon said.

"If you're not, that's okay. Let me know if you need anything," Chris said with a soft smile and a nod.

"Thanks," Leon said, getting enough of a breath in before Claire was wrapping herself around him again but tighter. "Jesus-"

"I'm glad you're here!" She cried into his chest, pulling back to smile up at him.

"Glad I'm here too," he said, a smile tugging at his lips. It was what she wanted to hear and while Leon himself wasn't certain if he was or not, time would only tell.

Master List of Drabbles

Tag List: @abysswhiskey11 @interviewedchicken @lonely-af-fangirl @girl-obsessed-with-things @mmmm----15 @depressedthebluefox @whimsywispsblog @singingsiren98 @parkerschurros @chrissyreid @bohica160 @death-is-beautiful @mittensdun @ravenrune @bsaa-bitch

#resident evil fanfiction #resident evil #fanfiction #chris redfield #claire redfield #leon kennedy #chris redfield x leon kennedy

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thebonerpit · 3 years

Text

suck it and see [FIC]

suck it and see

Rom Howney, 2749 words, [E], read on Ao3 here

Robert invites Tom over for dinner. Has his gag reflex improved? (Not me writing a sequel to this fic almost a year later...)

Five months later, and Tom is wondering what the fuck he’s gotten himself into.

After “The Call”, as he’s been referring to it, Robert has been nothing but sweet and courteous and respectful. Once the post-orgasm adrenaline faded, Tom hasn’t been able to drum up the courage to talk about what happened between them and Robert never brings it up explicitly either. It’s been months of brief text threads during quiet moments, the odd video of Robert’s cats or a photo of the sunset, and Tom getting embarrassingly hard whenever Robert says something remotely flirty. Nothing at all that suggests it might ever happen again. That is, until Tom mentions he’s going to be in L.A. for a week.

“Come see me. I’ll make you dinner.”

“YOU’LL make me dinner? Or your private chef will make me dinner?”

“Don’t get cheeky with me you little shit. Tuesday work for you?”

It doesn’t, but Tom rearranges his entire schedule to get there.

The black jeans he’s chosen are practically painted on, but in an effort to appear completely casual and unbothered he throws on a soft pastel pink hoodie and a baseball cap. No need to mention how long he takes in the shower beforehand. No need at all.

The Uber drops him off and he notes that there are no other cars to be seen, and very few lights on in the house. He didn’t even consider that they might actually be alone and now that it’s hitting him he kind of feels like throwing up. Before he can scope out the best bush to heave into, the door opens.

“I know my front yard is pretty amazing but are you going to stand out here all night?”

Oddly enough, seeing him in person, leaning against the door frame with a dish towel in one hand, Robert Downey Jr. in the flesh, actually calms him down. His brain reroutes from panic to excitement and he rushes forward to give him a tight hug, which Robert gladly returns.

“Good to see you,” he says quietly, almost directly into Tom’s ear. The closeness makes him shiver slightly but he manages to cover it with another tight squeeze before rocking back on his heels.

“Same, boss,” he says with a broad smile. Robert cocks his head and smiles back fondly before patting his cheek and stepping back into the foyer.

“Come on, it’s almost ready.”

“Are you really cooking for me?”

“Of course,” he says, like he’s offended Tom is even asking.

It smells incredible, whatever it is, and Tom removes his hat, happily perches on a bar stool, and accepts the beer Robert hands him. They chat amiably while Robert cooks, and soon Tom forgets why he was ever nervous in the first place. It’s just like how it was on set, or backstage at some industry event, joking and laughing and catching each other up on their respective lives. One of the cats jumps up and kneads at Tom’s lap for a while before padding away to search for its own dinner.

Domestic, Tom thinks briefly, before shooing that horrible thought away.

Dinner is pasta with homemade sauce and Tom devours it.

Robert raises an eyebrow as he slurps up his last noodle and Tom sheepishly hides behind his napkin as he tries to wipe off the spattering of red sauce on his cheek.

“S’really good,” he mutters, and Robert just laughs.

He helps him clean up, despite Robert’s protests. He sets the last pot on the rack to dry and turns to see Robert staring at him, a contemplative expression on his gorgeous face.

“What? More pasta sauce?” Tom asks, swiping at the corner of his lips with one thumb.

“Nah. Just looking.”

“Oh. Ok?”

Robert smirks and saunters over and Tom feels his back hit the fridge. Trapped. Nowhere to go.

“This is cute,” Robert says, tugging at the string of Tom’s hoodie. “Suits you.”

“Uh. Thanks,” Tom replies dumbly, unable to look away from Robert’s mouth. He barely catches the way Robert’s eyes flick up to his own before he looks away and exhales softly. It’s a sound of resignation, and Tom’s heart speeds up to a panicked flutter. As soon as Robert starts to back away, he snakes his arm out and grasps on to his wrist. It shocks them both and they can’t do anything but stare at each other for a moment before Tom finally caves and lets himself think with his dick.

He opens his mouth, extends his tongue slightly, and waits.

Robert’s eyes are dark, the gorgeous honey-brown devoured by his pupils, and Tom sees him swallow. He does his best to encourage him, to beg without saying a word, but when Robert still hesitates, he slowly drags his hand up to hover between them. Then he lets go of Robert’s wrist. It’s on him now, and he looks very much aware of this fact.

“You sure?” he finally rasps out. Always the gentleman, even when Tom doesn’t want him to be. He nods and sticks out his tongue even more, his eyes almost crossing at he stares at Robert’s thick fingers just inches away from his mouth.

“Have you been thinking about this?” he asks. Tom nods again and shivers as those fingers run the length of his jaw. “Yeah. Me too.”

Without warning he pushes two fingers into Tom’s mouth, dragging them across his tongue and settling them just past the second knuckle. Tom whines and starts to close his lips around them but Robert’s other hand darts up quickly to grab his chin.

“Ah-ah,” he tuts. “Did I say you could do that?”

The blood that rushes immediately downwards nearly makes Tom pass out.

Robert pets his tongue until Tom’s mouth overflows with saliva and it starts dripping down his chin and on to his hoodie.

“Such a messy boy,” Robert says. Tom gurgles out a moan which makes Robert tighten his grip on his jaw. “On your knees.”

Tom drops so fast he feels his knees crack against the marble tile. It hurts but he doesn’t even care. All he can feel is his dick hard against the zipper of his jeans and Robert’s fingers dragging through his hair.

“So pretty,” he murmurs as he lets his fingers slip out of Tom’s mouth.

Tom tries to lean in, close the distance between his mouth and the growing bulge in Robert’s jeans, but he feels those fingers tighten in his hair. He glances up and sees Robert staring down at him with an expression not dissimilar to the one he had months ago on their video call.

“If you want to stop, all you have to do is say the word.” Robert’s voice is quiet but steady. “Or pinch me really hard if your mouth is… otherwise occupied.”

Tom shudders at the implications of that.

“I need to hear you say you understand.”

“I do! I… I understand. Want this, want you, everything… anything you want,” Tom says, tripping over his words in his haste to reassure him because he thinks if Robert stops now he might actually cry.

Robert exhales sharply through his nose. “Jesus… fucking… alright. Ok. Get up, follow me.”

Tom scrambles up off the floor and follows Robert as he leads him through into what looks like a den. It’s dimly lit, thick curtains pulled closed on the windows, and the walls are lined with bookshelves. Robert pulls him down on to a plush couch and takes his jaw in his hand again, licking his lips before diving in for a searing kiss, and Tom allows himself to be devoured. He suddenly realizes that this is actually their first kiss, but before he can dwell on it too long Robert pulls back and, as gently as possible, pushes him down to the floor between his knees.

“I hope you’ve been practicing more,” Robert says as he undoes his jeans. “Show me what you can do.”

As soon as the fabric of Robert’s boxers is out of the way, Tom doesn’t hesitate. He’s been waiting for this for months and the sight of that gorgeous cock in front of him makes his mouth water. He takes the head in his mouth without preamble and the low groan that Robert lets out spurs him on to take even more. It’s a bit messy, saliva already dripping out the sides of his mouth, but if the noises Robert is making are any indication, he’s doing a pretty damn good job regardless. He feels those thick fingers curl back into his hair and only has a moment to steel himself before Robert’s hips snap up and he chokes, eyes watering immediately as the thick cock tries to force its way down his throat. He tries to relax but it doesn’t work and he has to pull away, coughing and wiping at his chin.

“S-sorry, let me… I can—”

“Shh, no, you were doing well. I shouldn’t have… couldn’t help myself.”

Fuck, he sounds wrecked already. Pride bubbles up in Tom’s stomach and he dares to look up and offer a small smile, batting his eyelashes just a little.

“Want to keep going,” he says, “please?”

Robert bites his lip and squeezes his eyes shut for a moment before shifting on the couch.

“Come up here, let me… here, just like this.” He pulls Tom up like he weighs nothing, arranges him on the couch so he’s laying on his back with his head hanging off the edge.

“It’s easier like this, sweet thing,” Robert says as he stands over him. “Opens your throat up. Do you trust me?”

“God, yes,” Tom breathes out. He knows he should behave and wait for instructions but he can’t help surging up to lick at the base of Robert’s cock, hanging heavy over his face. It makes him shudder and Tom feels a drop of precome fall on his cheek.

He sees Robert shudder and gets a gentle slap across his face as a reward.

“Brat,” he rasps out before shoving his cock down Tom’s throat.

The angle is so strange and Tom’s eyes widen with panic before he realizes that yeah, it actually is easier like this? Once you get used to the whole upside-down part. He trusts Robert to hold his head as he relaxes his muscles, letting his throat go slack and just accepting every thick inch he gets.

There’s a bitten-out curse as Tom feels his nose press against Robert’s balls.

“Give me—fuck, your hand,” Robert says. He obeys, immediately, and Robert brings it up to wrap around Tom’s own throat. “Can you feel it?”

Tom nearly shoots off right then and there as Robert moves and oh my fucking god yes he can feel it. The thick line of Robert’s cock is stretching his throat out and he gurgles out a moan around it which makes it twitch against his hand.

“Such a pretty little cocksucker,” he grunts. Tom bucks his hips into the air, desperate for friction, Robert’s dirty words turning him on more than he could have ever imagined.

“Look at you… you want to touch yourself, hm?”

Tom can’t answer so he just whines and wiggles his hips again which causes Robert to grunt and jerk forward which in turn causes Tom to choke and gag again. Robert immediately pulls out and pets the side of Tom’s head while he inhales shakily, catching his breath.

“Ok?” he asks, rubbing a thumb along Tom’s swollen bottom lip.

“Yeah… ok.” Tom is shocked by the sound of his own voice, raw and scratchy and thick. Thank fucking god he doesn’t have to work for the next little while. “More?”

Robert chuckles and leans down to kiss along the side of his neck. “Want to see you come with my dick down your throat. Can you do that for me?”

“Fuck… fuck, yeah, yeah I can do that.” He scrabbles at the buttons and zippers on his jeans and shoves them down to mid-thigh along with his boxers. His hoodie is already a mess, covered in his own spit, but he pulls it up his chest anyway. If this also happens to show off his cut abs and pink nipples, well, it’s just a bonus. He hears Robert groan softly and then suddenly his field of vision is eclipsed by a furred stomach as Robert leans over him to kiss at his chest, his hipbones, and fuck, Robert’s mouth is on his dick.

“Ohmygod,” he slurs, digging his nails into the fabric of the couch as an incredibly skilled tongue laves up and down his erection. He can feel the bristle of Robert’s beard on his thighs and it sends electric shivers through his body.

“Tastes so good,” Robert murmurs, licking up one side and then sucking on the head briefly before letting Tom’s cock fall back against his stomach with a loud slap. Tom whimpers – actually whimpers – as Robert pushes himself back upright and he can see the cocky smirk on his face even from this strange angle.

“There, made it nice and wet for you. Go on sweetheart, show me how pretty you look when you come, hm?”

Tom doesn’t have time to answer as Robert slides his cock back into his throat. The sensation of that alone makes his eyes roll back in his head but now that he has permission to touch himself, he doesn’t hesitate. The slickness from Robert’s saliva eases the way for his own hand as he jerks himself off quickly, no patience for finesse or teasing, just pure need racing through his veins. He gets close embarrassingly fast, partly thanks to the steady stream of filth that Robert is muttering above him.

“That’s it, just like that baby, so fucking pretty aren’t you? You like having a nice fat dick down your throat, hm? Yeah, I know you do, look at you, just made for it, fuck, yeah, keep touching yourself, keep jerking that pretty cock sweetheart, make a mess of yourself for me, come on, come on, let me see you…”

It’s relentless and Tom can’t get enough. He doesn’t want it to end, quite frankly, but he’s teetering right on the edge and when Robert simultaneously shoves himself as deep as he can go and squeezes a hand around his throat he jerks violently and comes all over himself. It’s the most powerful orgasm he’s ever had and his body feels like it will never stop convulsing. It’s only when he finally relaxes enough to try to catch his breath that he realizes that he can’t actually breathe at all. Robert is still buried deep in his throat, grinding his hips against his face like Tom is just a warm, wet hole to be used. It sends a brief flutter of panic through him, but it also makes his spent cock twitch against his stomach. Robert is grunting and Tom feels drops of sweat landing on his chest, mixing with the cooling puddles of come. He must be close. He has to be. He needs to be or Tom is going to actually pass out.

He’s just about to raise his hand to pinch Robert’s thigh when he feels a rush of warmth slide down his throat. It’s so deep he can’t even taste it until Robert pulls out and lets the rest drip all over his mouth and face. As Tom gasps for breath Robert maneuvers him into a sitting position and rubs at his back, soothing him as he coughs and sniffles and wipes at the absolute mess on his face with his ruined hoodie. When he finally settles a bit he can hear Robert murmuring to him.

“Such a good boy… such a good boy, sweetheart, you did so well, that’s it, deep breaths…”

Tom sniffles again and blinks up at Robert’s face. He smiles softly.

“Hey.”

“Hey. Feeling ok?”

Tom nods. His throat is killing him but he doesn’t want to make Robert feel bad about it. Plus, he asked for it and he doesn’t know if it makes him a little fucked up in the head for liking it.

“I… I want…”

“Shh, don’t try to talk now. Let me get you some water. You…” Robert pauses. He leans in and kisses Tom’s forehead almost chastely. “You were incredible. Just sit. Let me take care of you.”

Tom smiles again and nestles into the crook of Robert’s neck, sated and content.

#rom howney #marvel rpf #nff #tbpwrites

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katnissmellarkkk · 3 years

Note

*kicks in the door* bequeath me your daily chores headcanons

Daily Chore Headcanons? Okayyyy, I don’t know how well this will go but let’s give her a shot!

Peeta does the entire kitchen work

Like every single day

Peeta cleans the kitchen

Sweeps, mops and dusts it

And he does the dishes.

Without being asked, this is the chore he takes on

Because it’s what he knows from a lifetime living in the bakery.

Katniss however mops the rest of the main floor almost daily

Not because she’s super nitpicky about cleanliness

But because she tracks mud and dirt in from the woods almost daily.

And Peeta can’t stop giving her crap about

“Did you hunt or hike through a swamp?”

To which she rolls her eyes 🙄.

Peeta dusts much more than Katniss

Because he’s taller

By the time he reaches twenty, he’s close to, if not exactly, 6’0.

But sometimes they do it together.

She’ll ride on his shoulders and dust the top shelves, the lights and the ceiling.

It also gives him a good workout to carry her around while she dusts.

Their house is very clean.

A striking contrast between them and Haymitch, who continues to live in a pig stye.

Their bedroom never gets too messy

But they take turns making the bed.

Katniss will sometimes make it around him before she leaves for the woods, while he sleeps for a couple more minutes

They take turns vacuuming their bedroom and the spare rooms.

They both also have a thing for organizing

It’s an activity they do together

That rarely ends in any sort of argument or bickering

Because they both love a cosy, clean, uncluttered home.

They also clean the bathroom every so often together

Katniss likes to make Peeta scrub the toilet

“Remember when I cleaned the puss from your leg? You can clean the toilet bowl.”

“Remember when I had that leg?”

They also scrub the shower together

And then take a shower together 😏.

The only room that causes them any friction when it comes to the chores is Peeta’s art room.

It’s a mess.

It looks like a stained glass window threw up.

And because it’s Peeta’s therapy room for when he has particularly bad flashbacks or nightmares, he never gets around to cleaning it up.

It distresses Katniss how unruly he lets it get

But every so often she’ll silently scrub all the surfaces down, until it’s good as new.

Because she understands that sometimes coping mechanisms are messy.

Peeta knows to keep Prim’s old room spotless.

And not to rearrange just about anything in it.

But the thing he does that makes her the most 🥺🥺🥺

Is when he polishes the photo of her father that’s framed upon their mantle and his old shaving mirror

Every single day.

#everlark #thg #cate 🦋🧸💗💐#asks 🦋#my lil headcanons 💕♥️🦋💓🥰

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mldrgrl · 3 years

Text

Broken Things 10/24

by: mldrgrl Rating: varies by chapter, rated R overall See Chapter 1 for summary and notes

The supper bell is sounded before Mulder and Jesse and Jimmy have fully put the horses up for the evening. Feeling like he’s been shirking his share of the responsibilities the last few days, Mulder sends the two brothers in ahead of him to finish. He washes up at the pump at the back of the house, but goes round to the front entrance to get a clean shirt before he comes to the table.

Everyone is having their supper when Mulder comes into the kitchen. Katherine jumps up to serve him, but he waves her down and fixes his own plate. The biscuits are a little burnt at the bottom, which she apologizes profusely for. The potatoes are lumpy, but delicious.

“These may be the best mashed potatoes I’ve ever had,” he says. “You’ve put something in them.”

“Ah, ah,” Melvin says when Katherine opens her mouth to answer. “A chef must never reveal the secrets of the kitchen.”

“I think you’re just jealous that I’ve never asked you about any of your recipes.”

“I never heard you complain.”

“You ever hear me compliment either?”

“I just figured you not to be very mannerly.”

“It’s garlic,” Katherine says. “Just a bit of powdered garlic and butter and some cream.”

“Well, this is my new favorite potato.”

“Have you ever made up a shepherd’s pie, Ma’am?” Jimmy asks.

“A few times,” she answers. “Not many.”

Jesse elbows Jimmy and Jimmy elbows him back. “Our Gran used to make it for us when we were small and she was always saying the potato was the best part. I wonder if you can’t make as good of a pie as she did.”

“I can certainly try.”

“You’ve already got admirers of your talents putting in requests,” Mulder says. “How about that?”

“I think you all are just being kind since I burned the biscuits.”

“Not the whole biscuit,” Mulder says with a wink and a smile. “Just the bottom. And the steaks are delicious.”

Katherine chuckles. “Melvin did the steaks.”

Melvin’s fork clatters to the plate and he wipes his mouth on his napkin before he gets up and does a short jig in front of the table. “Did my ears deceive me or was that a compliment I just heard?”

“Alright, sit down before you hurt yourself.”

“That sounded like a compliment to me,” Jimmy says. “What do you think, Jesse?”

“I think people need to let me eat the best steak and potato the lord ever created in peace.”

“Jesse,” Katherine says, looking at Mulder. “I notice you didn’t mention the biscuits in there.”

He grunts. “They’re burnt. Nobody likes burnt up biscuits.”

Katherine gestures to Jesse and nods at Mulder. “You see.”

“Well, I do.” Mulder stares back at Katherine and brings another biscuit to his plate from the tray. “I happen to like burnt up biscuits very much.”

↭

Despite the burnt biscuits, Katherine thinks supper is a success. The dessert got an especially enthusiastic response and she makes a note that the boys seem to really like apples. Just like the noon dinner she took part in yesterday, as they all finish eating, they bring their dishes to the wash basin and then they disappear after thanking her for a nice supper. Mulder excuses himself as well to go light the lamps as it’s getting to be dusk.

Melvin helps her wash and dry the dishes despite her insistence that he should sit down and not worry about her. He waves her away and tells her that old habits die hard. She ends up doing the washing and he does the drying.

“Melvin, can I ask you something? And you can tell me no, but I thought that I might like to do some rearranging in the kitchen. But, only if I have your blessing.”

“This is your kitchen now, m’lady. You can put things to how you want them.”

“Still, I know this has been your domain and I don’t want you to think there’s something wrong with how it is now, I just have a certain mind about how things work.”

Melvin throws the dish towel over one shoulder and then puts both hands over hers. “My lovely, you don’t need to explain anythin’ to me. This is your kitchen now and that’s as it should be. The only thing I’ll tell you is that when Mulder expands on this place, you tell him to build you a kitchen that’s twice as big and twice as nice.”

“I rather like this kitchen though.”

“Stove’s faulty, obviously. Burn’s the biscuits.”

Katherine laughs and Melvin takes the dish towel and puts it over her shoulder, passing the mantle to her. Mulder comes in with a lighted lamp.

“All set in here?” he asks.

“Just finishing,” Katherine says.

“I was wondering if you might like to join me on the porch.”

“I thought you’d never ask!” Melvin exclaims.

“Not you, you little interloper.”

“That’s alright, I’m just going to take my compliment and head on to the bunkhouse.”

“Good night, Melvin,” Katherine says, embracing him lightly. “Thank you for everything.”

“Good night, lovely lady.”

Katherine takes the hand that Mulder offers her and walks with him down the dogtrot to the porch. There are two chairs out there that she distinctly remembers being much further apart than they are now. She sits down first and he puts the lamp down on a small table between their chairs.

“Is it too cold out?” he asks. “Should I get a shawl for you?”

“No, I’m fine, thank you.”

“Do you ever think about all those stars up there, how they got there?”

“A French astronomer named Charles Messier compiled a catalogue of star clusters and comets and galaxies in 1781.”

“Isn’t it strange that we’re here a hundred and some years later looking at those same clusters?”

“Not necessarily. Stars can die and new stars can be born.”

“I take it you don’t believe in star lore, then?”

“I know of Orion and Andromeda. But, those are just stories.”

“I believed in them when I was a boy.”

Katherine looks away from the stars and at Mulder. He still believes those stories, she can see it in his eyes. Or at least, he wants to believe. She’s never met anyone that looks at life the way he does, with the wonder and humor of a child, but the sharp mind of a genius. She likes to hear him talk.

“Tell me one of them,” she says. “Your favorite.”

“Orion is my favorite. You already know it.”

“Maybe I don’t remember it very well. I’d like to hear your version.”

“Orion was the son of Poseidon,” he says, tipping his head back and looking up at the sky. “He could walk on waves.”

Katherine tips her head back as well and as she listens to Mulder’s voice, her eyes grow heavy. Soon, he’s shaking her shoulder and helping her up from her chair to guide her inside.

“I fell asleep,” she murmurs. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s been quite a day.”

“Yes, it has.” She turns to him in the doorway of her room. The lamp at her bedside table is on low.

“I’ll say good night,” he whispers, and his eyes leave hers for a moment and bounce down to her lips and then back.

“Good night,” she answers, looking up at him and feeling a fair amount of anticipation for what might come next. It is their wedding night, after all.

Slowly, Mulder leans closer and then kisses her softly on the cheek. He stays where he is for a few moments, his nose lightly brushing the back of her jaw and his breath on her neck. She closes her eyes to await more, but then he steps back and she looks up at him.

“If you need anything,” he says, “I’ll be across the hall.”

“I can’t imagine that I will.”

His lips twist into that lopsided smile of his that looks like he’s trying to speak, but can’t seem to form the words. He nods once at her and then turns around. She watches him enter his room and then she closes her door with a sigh. That night she sleeps better than she has in years, maybe ever.

#i wrote this #broken things #chapter 10 #AU #MSR

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ninnodesu · 3 years

Text

The New Matriarch, ch 6

AN: Okay, this chapter is A LOT better than chapter 5 in my opinion, hahah. I'm just churning out chapters right now during christmas break, it's great!

Again; Thank you sooo much for reading! It's so much fun seeing the statistics and see that people like my little story. <3 Oh! Regarding the name "Kit": This is mostly just a placeholder name, do not fear! It is still You/Reader friendly ;)

TW: None, really. Maybe some light mentions of bullying!

Thomas B. Hewitt.

Thomas was grumpier than usual today at work. When he’d arrived, his work station had been vandalized. There were snickers and giggles behind his back as he had to clean up his little corner of the slaughterhouse almost all morning. It was covered in trash. People had literally dumped at least one trash can all over his station, might’ve been two, even. Rotten food all over his bench, some stuck to his cleaver. Everyone thought it was hilarious to mess with the residence retard. It was one of those days. One of those days where he was - apparently - only at work as some kind of comical relief to lighten the mood of the otherwise gloomy workers, at least that’s what they had decided.

At one point the ones responsible for the mess he had to clean had even pushed one of the shy girls right into Thomas’ chest, making cat calls and whistling towards them as a way to mock both at the same time.

The girl because she was shy and cried easily, and Thomas because… well… he looked like he did.

He wasn’t able to properly start butchering until maybe an hour before lunch, his boss yelling at him a handful of times before that.

What did I ever do to any of you assholes… Not only did he have to clean up the entire morning, there wasn’t enough food at home so he couldn’t bring lunch… and his cleaver was getting dull. A mental note to bring it home the next day to sharpen it.

This. Was not. His. Day.

I just want to go ho- , his inner sentence was interrupted by a hard dunk on his back, knocking a bit of air out of him.

“Hewiiiitt!”, one of the several bullies he’s had comes up with two of his friends holding his arms out wide, they’re smirking.

So you did this.

“Did ya’ like our present, Hewitt?”, he nods towards the trash can and starts laughing, “We got it specially for you.”, he chuckles before continuing, “Oh, and, I hope you don’t mind I take Laurie for myself, since you uh… wouldn’t know what to do with’er even.” A barking laughter erupts from the three of them at the end of his jab against Thomas, making everything personal. The end of his sentence makes Thomas turn towards them and glare down through his dark curls. The men take a step back, they can probably literally feel how Thomas’ anger starts boiling as he straightens up and flexes his biceps towards them. A clear sign they’re starting to royally piss him off.

He would never use his strength to physically hurt people, but he does know how to make them leave him alone, at least for a short period of time, they know he could crush their skulls if he wanted to. And they never go into fist fights with the giant. All they do is emotionally drain him, they make him know he’s different, not like everyone else, and that he never will be. He’s the village dumb animal and that’s his only purpose in life.

They laugh nervously as he stares them down. “Haha, you really are an animal, Hewitt.”, they just laugh as they turn and leave him alone in the now empty slaughterhouse. He plants his hands flat on his table and glances over at all the parts he has left to cut up before he can leave without getting reprimanded by his boss the following day and sighs heavily.

I fucking hate all of you.

It’s dark out when he’s finally done with his work, thankfully, his dull cleaver made it so he could snag more pieces of rejected meat with him home. At least something good came out of this shitty day at work. More food for his - now - bigger family and he tried looking at that like a consolation prize as he lumbered home in the dark, letting his mind wander.

I want a name for her.

Even if he didn’t want to speak to her, he still wanted to give her a name until she could remember her own, she couldn’t walk around with no name in the house.

Sure, I’m not going to openly talk to her…

He cleared his throat at that as a reminder for himself that he still had vocal cords. He made a conscious choice not to speak several years ago. But on lonely nights, or when he was alone - and knew no one could hear him - in general, he hummed, or spoke to himself, thinking aloud or mumbled reminders for only him to hear, to make sure his vocal cords were still there. The two words he had spoken in the barn a few days back the most he had actually spoken in… months, maybe years. His family had gotten used to his body language and mannerisms when they talked to him.

I can alwa-, again, interrupted. But this time by a family of foxes running across the dirt road. He stopped and just stared at the bigger one as it stopped in the high grass in the ditch on the other side, looking over at a small collection of babies that sprinted across it after looking over at the giant in the distance.

He smiled as he figured out what to call her.

Kit.

He hummed slightly, picturing her in his mind. Her face, the kind eyes that always crinkled when she smiled at him or his family, trying out the new name to see if it would fit her face.

Yeah. Yeah, I like Kit.

He readjusted the bag he had thrown over his shoulder and kept trudging home through the night, a tired sigh leaving him as he started to see the outline of the big house in the distance.

The house was silent, obvious evidence that everyone else was asleep, so he made sure to walk as quietly as he could on his way to the stairs leading to the basement, snagging a few pieces of the leftovers and shoving them into his mouth on the way down to the damp and musty basement where the coolers were loudly brumming and vibrating. Alone, he seized the moment to talk to himself.

“Let’s see… ”. His voice was raspy, but deep, and vibrated throughout his body. He rummaged and rearranged in the freezer box to take out the packages whose date seemed to run out to put it on top of the ones he had brought today. “Pen… penpenpen… ”, almost having to turn the entire basement over to find the one he usually uses - and mentally punishing himself for never putting it in one specific place - he scribbles down today’s date before putting them in the bottom of the box. As he stands and stretches he’s greeted with a series of tired pops in his spine. “Getting old, Thomas. ”, he mumbles before lumbering over to his basement corner. Not having the energy to climb the stairs.

He just wanted to sleep. Unbuckling his mask he rubs his hands all over his dried cheeks to ease the blasted itching all over him before kicking off his boots and laying down on the creaky bed. A yawn that transcends into a small, deep moan escapes him as he tucks one arm under his pillow and the other reaches under his shirt to scratch a spot on his stomach. “Kit. ”, he says out loud to try it on his tongue. “Mmmh. Kit is good. ”, is the last sound that leaves the basement before his snoring takes over.

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

You

You woke up in your bed, not really remembering when you went to sleep, but you decided to cuddle up a bit under your blanket before the morning heat reached your body and you had to force yourself up out of bed.

As usual, it was quiet in the house. “It’s really starting to get lonely here…”, you muttered to yourself as you descended the stairs. You were greeted by a few piglets running around in the kitchen as you entered.

A yellow paper struck you in the otherwise white and gray kitchen.

A note.

“Mornin’, dear. Breakfast is on the table.

Love

- Luda Mae.”

You looked up from the note and towards the table, and sure enough. There it was. A plate with a few sausages, a fried egg and a small piece of bread. You mentally thanked Luda Mae as you sat down, tucking a leg under yourself and started munching on your - now cold - breakfast while watching a few piglets running around. Occasionally you threw a piece of sausage at them which they happily ate. “I wonder why you live in here, piggies.”, you said to them as you downed the last of the meal. You hummed a bit at a thought before heading over to clean your plate and fork.

After drying your hands and putting the dishes away to dry on their own you turned on your heels and leaned back at the sink just looking around. “Now what…”, you giggled as you poked a pig with your feet and watched it twitch. “What should we do now, little guy?”

You sauntered away from the kitchen, into the dining room and just looked around. Taking in the homely - but not the cleanest - house you were in. You’ve never seen this before, never seen these people. But then again, maybe you weren’t even from around here… Everything before meeting Thomas in the barn was a blur, a darkness you really couldn’t remember. And right now, at this moment? You were happy you couldn’t remember anything. All you knew at this point was that you were relaxed.

You knew you’d been on the run, you remember the Box, but no details. Not your name, not where you came from, you knew an estimated age of yourself, but still no details.

You came from the darkness, yes, and Thomas was your light. Your beacon of hope.

Your venture took you into a room with a piano and a couch. You approached the piano and started tinkling on the keys, it was really out of tune and you couldn’t help but to laugh at how bad it sounded. But you shrugged and sat down in front of it and started poking the keys. Thinking you knew any kind of melody you could play, but it was fun nonetheless. After your solo concert you found yourself sitting in the grass outside, legs sprawled in front of you under a tree, the shirt you’d borrowed tickling slightly as a breeze caressed your skin and you closed your eyes. “This is nice.”, sure it was quiet, and sure you were lonely… and bored . But it was a relaxing kind of silence where you could lay in the grass if you wanted, take a nap on the porch if you felt like it. No stress and no need to live up to any expectations.

It isn’t until late afternoon that you finally notice the family starting to drop in. You’re on the couch in front of the TV lazily watching, not even paying attention to what is on when someone suddenly kicks the sofa. “Fuck you think you doin’?”, you jerk and look up at the grumpy man, Charlie, standing there with his hands on his hips shooting daggers at you. “Been home all day and not done anything ‘round the house.”, you don’t even get the chance to reply to him so you resort to shrinking in on yourself. “I uh…”, he interrupts you before you get any chance to defend yourself. “Listen here, girlie.”, he gets down low and right up in your face and grab it harshly to make sure you’re looking at him, “Mama might be treatin’ you good n'all, hell, she won’t stop talking ‘bout ya’”, he sneers and looks annoyed, “But you’re in my house, so you listen’ to my rules.”

His grip starts to loosen on you.

“So, ya’ see, honey. If you want to stay here, livin’ a good ass life, ya’ better do ya part, understand?” All you can do is nod weakly, after you do, he pats your cheek a little harder than he had to and gave you a tobacco smelling kiss on your forehead before he left. You mind starts hurting slightly, the treatment making something you can’t fully decipher before your eyes

You didn’t dare move off the couch after your meeting with Charlie. You kept your place on the couch until dinner was served. The other older man, Monty, had joined you, but you didn’t care. He didn’t care and acted like you weren’t even there. Dinner was just as uneventful, you all ate, but without Thomas. A knot started growing in your stomach when he wasn’t present, Charlie scared you already. And you had only been there for about three to four days. Barely talking to him, the few times you did meet him he shot you nasty glances. Eyes that traveled uncomfortably over your body.

After dinner was over and done with, Luda Mae invited you to have evening tea with her on the porch, and you, happy to accept, almost sprinted out to get away from mainly Charlie. He didn’t seem to dare say or do anything against you when Luda Mae was in ear shot.

Your house my ass... , you thought when you’d notice that small detail.

So, here you were having a cozy evening with at least one you enjoyed spending time with.

“You seem tense, darlin’”, she spoke up from her crocheting and glanced at you. “Is everything alright?” You looked over at her and gave a crooked smile. “I’m… I’m alright. It’s just…”, you shook your head and proceeded to rest your chin on your hand. “Can I ask you something, miss Mae?”, you tilted your head. “Mmhm.”, she hummed as she went back to her crocheting, the tone of her voice seemingly knowing what you were about to ask about.

Thomas.

The two of you ended up talking about Thomas for several hours. Luda Mae told you she found him in a dumpster outside the very slaughterhouse he works in, how he from an early age suffered from a skin disease they couldn’t afford to treat due to her and her family already living on the verge of poverty. She told you he was heavily bullied in school, and when he was around twelve left it altogether. Charlie helped him get a job at the slaughterhouse and that’s where he’s been since. He’s a gentle giant to the ones he considers family, he’s strong but never abuses his power.

“So, uhm… is there any specific reason he doesn’t speak?” She folded her hands in her lap and sighed heavily at that question, she had been teary eyed all through Thomas’ story, but now it seemed they started falling. “Due to him takin’ a knife to his face it hurt him too much to speak, and even eat. He stopped eating for a long time. He utters a word sometimes, but… that’s it.”, her voice trembled and she took a deep breath to continue, “My poor boy stopped talking completely when he was around… fifteen. And I haven’t talked to him since then.” You did the numbers in silence before gasping slightly “He hasn’t talked for nineteen years?”, she shook her head slightly. “I do miss talkin’ to him. He always did have the best laugh I’ve ever heard.”, she smiled to you. “Ya’ know the deep, rumbling kind, I remember him always laughing until he folded over.” You giggled slightly at that, picturing Thomas folded over in a deep laugh with his arms clutching his stomach.

It was a lovely image.

#The New Matriarch #TNM #thomas hewitt #thomas leatherface hewitt #thomas hewitt fanfictiom #tcm: the beginning #tcm #tcm fanfiction

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moonb-eam · 4 years

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Hi, sorry if you're already answered it, but i wanted to ask about the dinner at Eliott's castle, when Lucas went to the drawing room to the teleskope and Eliott came to him, can you please tell me (if you want!) what was Eliott thinking? He wanted to say something to Lucas and they were interrupted by Arthur. It's totally okay to not answer, thank you so much for that story! ❤️❤️

hello lovely!! 🌷you’re so sweet thank you!! ☺️

I actually haven’t answered this question before, so let’s dive in!!

It goes like this:

They finish dinner, and decide to play cards.

Eliott doesn’t know where the suggestion comes from, somewhere between Arthur and Herman’s conversation about horribly lost bets, and Daphné’s insistence that she had never lost a hand of cards in her life (which is true), but he’s grateful for the enthusiasm with which the idea is received, because it means that they stay.

It means that Lucas stays. Just a little longer.

Eliott can feel minutes falling from the gaps between his fingers like water, and inevitable end to the storybook night where every smile was shy and every glance was a secret between two people.

Eliott remembers the story only vaguely. Perrault, with a young woman who ventured out her cruel household to a ball. Then, the chiming of midnight, and it all goes away. A dress that turns to tatters. A carriage that turns to a vegetable.

It’s far from midnight still, but Eliott fancies himself the young woman counting down the minutes at her ball. Or maybe he’s the carriage.

He wants to follow them into the drawing room, because he wants to see their faces when Daphné holds her promise to win back any money she lays down, and because he wants to get a spot at the card table where he can be across from Lucas again, and watch the way candlelight caresses his skin.

But he stays behind to help clean from dinner, because the dishes are heavy and the staff must be tired, and because that’s what he always does, whenever they finish a meal. He waves off Daphné with their guests and tries in vain to ignore her when she points at Lucas’ turned back and mouths at Eliott, I like him.

Eliott makes a face at her, picking up another plate.

How could you not?

Clearing the table is usually a quick process, quicker tonight for how distracted Eliott is throughout, thinking of Mr. Savary’s obvious and alarming admiration for Daphné, Mr. Broussard’s keen eyes that seemed to catch every heartfelt look Eliott sent to Lucas that night, and of Lucas himself, and the sweet way he smiled at Eliott over his glass of wine.

It’s likely that Eliott was too obvious in his longing, his heart a phantom weight in his palm, and that was what Mr. Broussard noticed when he stared at him. It’s likely the reason Mr. Broussard was staring at him in the first place. Eliott would be embarrassed by it, if it weren’t for the shrewd grin that accompanied Mr. Broussard’s appraisal, something that was more approving than judgemental.

But perhaps Eliott is overthinking it.

Perhaps he’s overthinking Mr. Broussard’s perception just as he may be overthinking Lucas’ smiles and soft gaze. Just because he didn’t exude any outward ire towards Eliott doesn’t mean that he...

It doesn’t mean that...

(It doesn’t mean that a garden of hope needs to bloom in Eliott’s chest like this.

Yet, it does.

It does.)

“Eliott?”

He started when Madeleine touches his arm.

“Yes? Yes. Um.” He glances around the room. “If that’s the last of the dishes then you can...um.”

“Yes, we’re headed down.” She grins, patting him on the arm. “Best to return to your guests, chéri.”

The glint in her eye makes Eliott want to hide under the dining room table.

Tonight, it seems as though everyone knows.

“I shall...do that,” he says lamely, and he scurried away from Madeleine’s teasing smile, turning towards the drawing room, before he recalls the conversation he had with Mr. Leplein about literature, and how Herman said he had not yet had the chance to read Candide, and Eliott pivots on his heels, heading the opposite direction down the hallway.

He’s certain has a copy of the novel in the smaller drawing room. The study, as he likes to call it, even though it’s more a reading room than anything else.

Eliott has never been one to shy away from lending things out, and he can’t imagine anything that’s better to share than a book. Besides, the copy he’s thinking of is new, purchased to sit on the shelf and be an addition to his library. He has an older copy, one that is well-thumbed with tightly-scrawled notes inked into the margins. It’s the copy Eliott bought for himself after his father died, a delayed act of rebellion for the man who banned any and all Voltaire from the house.

Eliott bought himself a copy in Paris, on a trip to see the family lawyers, and he’d spent that entire night awake in his hotel room, reading in a daze. Then, on the journey home, he read it again. Then, he read it again, with a pot of ink at his side.

There was something about the novel that speaks to Eliott directly - its insouciance, its boldness, its humour, the main character’s journey of disillusionment. It gives him a feeling that someone has looked directly into Eliott’s mind, his heart, and has given him the words they pulled from him, but rearranged them differently so they make sense, so that Eliott can find and be found all in the turn of a page.

This is, at its most basic level, what literature has always done. It’s why Eliott adores it so.

He thinks, that even if Mr. Leplein doesn’t have the same epiphany Eliott does, that he will enjoy the humour in it, and the exciting pacing of events. He seems like a man who appreciates nothing more in the world than a good story.

Eliott stops at the entrance to the study, and as he squints into the dark room, he sees something shift there. A layer to the dim that is thrown into awareness by moonlight. For one wild moment Eliott wonders if he’s being burgled, but then his eyes catch on the slope of the figure’s shoulders, the tilt to their head as they examine the brass telescope in the corner of the room, and Eliott’s heart begins racing for another reason entirely, because he knows it’s him.

Lucas has found the telescope.

(Really, there could never have been any other fate.)

Eliott’s eyes adjust to the darkness, and he can see more of Lucas now. He can trace the slope of his neck and notice how his fingers are clenching in the air, as though they want to close the distance between warm skin and cool brass, but don’t dare to.

Now that he’s here, now that Lucas is seeing the telescope and seeing Eliott’s beating heart in his hand, and extended, the worst thing would be for Lucas not even to use it. Or to touch it.

So Eliott says, “You can touch it, if you want,” and Lucas startles like he’s a rest bird that’s been shaken from its nest.

“You scared me,” Lucas says, and Eliott’s stomach turns when he thinks of the last time those words were said to him, right before his disastrous proposal.

But he does his best to push forward. They’re not they’re, no - they’re here.

He spots the copy of Candide on the small table between the chairs and waves it through the air like a white flag.

“He says he’s never had a chance to read it,” Eliott explains.

Lucas seems to take this in stride, and then he asks, “You wouldn’t mind? If I touched it?”

Would Eliott mind.

He nearly laughs, a hysterical giggle building somewhere deep in his chest, and it would be so simple to tell him then, to say what Lucas has likely already guessed: You don’t even need to ask. It’s yours. It’s always been yours.

Yet there’s a fragile peace building between them, something a Eliott understands is fragile and young. This is Lucas asking, and so he says, without any irony, “I wouldn’t mind.”

Watching Lucas hesitantly reach out, then become more confident as his fingers meet the brass, caressing and travelling and touching so throughly and wondrously makes Eliott’s heart stutter and head swim.

He wonders what it would feel like, to be touched like that. To be touched like that by Lucas.

But watching Lucas fawn over the telescope also tugs in something fond and underneath Eliott’s ribcage. It fills him with something equally wondrous, to watch Lucas be so intrigued by something Eliott was able to give him.

He takes a step closer. “Do you like it?” He asks, at once desperate to know, to hear it, and when Lucas laughs, Eliott can’t help but smile.

“I like it,” Lucas says, and then: “I’m very fond of the stars.”

Eliott thinks of every time he saw Lucas’ head titled back to the sky, every time he saw him inhale the night air as though it keeps him alive, every time he smiled at the mention of a telescope, and he feels himself soften.

“Yes.” He says quietly. “I know.” I know you, he doesn’t say.

He didn’t even realize he’d taken another step forward, and he’s closer to Lucas now than he first thought he was, close enough to see to the depths of his midnight ocean eyes.

In the reaching hand of the moonlight, he looks ethereal. Untouchably beautiful.

Yet somehow, Eliott knows him.

“Lucas,” he says, and he can hear how pained his voice is, straining with the weight of everything that he hasn’t said but is at once desperate to: I know you, It’s always been yours, you can keep it if you like, I love you, I still love you, Do you know what you do to my heart when you smile at me?

And, above all: Do you think you might be beginning to know me? Do you think of me differently now?

Lucas raises his eyes to him, and Eliott’s throat is tight, but he’s opening his mouth again, mortifying honesty dripping from his tongue like too-sweet caramel, and he’s-

“Lucas!”

Eliott leaps to attention as though he’s a boy who’s been caught daydreaming again. The Voltaire drops to the floor with a smack and Eliott’s ears are ringing as he stoops to retrieve it, and he barely manages to take a step away from Lucas before Mr. Broussard is poking his head into the study. When he sees Eliott, then sees Lucas in the room with him, the shrewd smile returns.

It’s still not close to midnight, but Eliott accepts the interruption for what it is, and lets any magic that had been building in the moonlit space between him and Lucas fade to nothing.

Except-

Except there’s Mr. Broussard asking Eliott to join them at their inn, to try some of that famous scotch, and there’s Lucas, saying, “One drink, Mr. Demaury?”

And there’s magic, still.

#asks #anon #p&p au #hope you enjoy it sweetheart!! ❤️❤️❤️

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charming-oddities · 3 years

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My Dream Tried To Warn Me, And I Could Have Saved Him

Dad laughed at me last night when I told him that I just wanted to spend my first day off in two weeks sleeping, at least until noon. Between our loudmouth neighbors and the arrogant sunlight intruding through my bedroom window that I couldn’t afford curtains for, I guess sleeping in really was a ridiculous expectation. The strange dream I just had probably didn’t help matters either, judging by my tank top that is now soaked in sweat. I wish I could remember what the dream had been about. I glance at the clock on my bedside table, and it’s only 7:30. Dad was right.

I really believed that if I picked up extra hours at the shop, I’d be able to save up enough money to get us out of this dump by summer. Again, Dad knew better. Of course, if he would put down the bottle and pick up a pen and start filling out that job application I picked up for him a few months ago, things might be different right now. Maybe we would actually be able to afford a two-bedroom apartment so he wouldn’t have to sleep in the living room anymore. Maybe we could afford a place with actual air conditioning and walls thick enough to filter out our obnoxious neighbors. We might even be able to afford a place where the neighbors actually have some kind of consideration for each other. To be honest, if we were ever fortunate enough to end up in a place as decent as any of that, Dad and I would most likely end up being the obnoxious neighbors.

With the way we’ve been fighting lately, we probably already are. At least Dad and I just yell at each other on occasion. We’ve never gotten into anything physical, unlike the people in the apartment next to us. Seems like by now they would have run out of dishes to break and furniture to throw at each other. Dad says that God always seems to give the loudest voices to the dumbest people because he knows that nobody would listen to them otherwise. This Sunday morning is no exception.

The neighbor’s bedroom is on the other side of the wall, right next to mine. Already, I can hear him screaming at her.

“Get up and make me some goddamn breakfast, you useless whore!”

I would never talk to my girlfriend that way.

Surprised by the silence that follows his disrespectful demand, I roll over and face the wall, listening intently. Sure enough, the moment of silence is followed by her screaming,

“You want breakfast in bed? Here’s your breakfast!”

There’s a loud crash and the shattering of what I assume to be a glass plate smashing against the other side of the wall next to me.

Time to get up.

I roll out of bed and make my way into the living room. For a moment, I am surprised to find Dad’s couch empty. He’s never up this early. It isn’t until I walk to the kitchen, check the calendar and realize that it is the first Sunday of the month that I remember he’s at the church. More hungry than religious, Dad attends one service a month in exchange for a couple bags of free food offered by the church. I used to feel guilty taking the food when we don’t attend church as regularly as we probably should, but Dad said that it’s okay because God knows we need it.

I open the fridge and grab the last bottle of water, the only thing left in there besides a six pack of dad’s beer. When I walk back into the living room, a wave of sadness washes over me at the sight of the empty beer bottles that clutter the table in the corner, and the floor in front of the couch. Dad wasn’t always like this. About a year ago, right after Mom walked out, he just lost it. He just stopped caring about everything, stopped going to work, stopped leaving the house unless absolutely necessary. Wasn’t long before we lost the house and I dropped out of high school to get a job and moved us into this dump. As much as I hate to admit it, if it were just me on my own I know, I would be able to afford nicer things. Having to support him holds me back. I guess that’s just the way it has to be right now though, right?

The clock on the wall above the TV says it’s now a few minutes after 8. Dad will probably be back around 11, which gives me enough time to give in to my sudden, overwhelming urge to straighten this place up. Now that I think about it, I don’t really think this living room has been clean since the week we moved in, about 6 months ago. The furniture hasn’t been rearranged since then, either. Maybe if I clean it up, move things around, take down these damn blankets that dad nailed over the windows and let the sun in, Dad will feel a little better. I know I will. I grab a trash bag out of the kitchen and start collecting the beer bottles.

A few hours later, collapsing on to the newly-positioned couch, I admire my work. The room looks a lot bigger without all of the bottles, and with the couch over here under the window. The light coming in through the open window gives the place a happier atmosphere. Maybe the brightness of the sun’s arrogance wasn’t such a bad thing after all. Dad’s gonna love it. He should be back any time now.

I grab the remote and turn the TV up to block out the sound of the couple next door fighting again. I wish they would lose their voices, even just for a day. Today, her voice is even more annoying than he is.

Mid-way through an old rerun of The Walking Dead, dad walks in. I pause the TV and turn to face him so I can absorb his reaction as he enters the room.

To my dismay, his face immediately drops.

“What the hell is this?” He yells, his tone of voice more of anger than excitement.

“I thought I’d do a little spring cleaning-”

“I liked it how it was! That sun is too damn bright through that window!” He throws the two bags of food on the floor behind the front door, causing a carton of eggs to splatter and start to leak out of the bag. He grabs the arm of the couch. “Move!”

I get up and run to the kitchen doorway, to watch as he angrily shoves the couch back against the wall it was originally next to, the one that separates our apartment from the loudmouths next door. I just stand there, speechless as I hear the woman next door scream “I HATE YOU!” to her boyfriend. At that moment, I know exactly how she feels. Dad plops down on the couch and reaches for the remote.

I need to get out of here, I can’t even stand looking at him right now.

I run to my room and slam the door. I grab my old high school backpack out of the closet and start stuffing clothes inside. As I head to the bathroom for my toothbrush and deodorant, I am stopped by two extremely loud bangs, followed by Dad’s screams.

Running into the living room, I see dad sitting at an awkward angle, halfway hanging off the couch. His hands, grasping his chest, are covered in dark red. “C-call an am-ambulance,” he chokes.

Completely numb, I stand outside of the hospital room. The flat line on the electrocardiogram monitor next to Dad’s bed forever etched into my brain; An infinite linear reminder that I won’t be giving that Father’s Day card that I had tucked safely away under my mattress to anyone next month, after all. I don’t even notice the Officer standing next to me until he speaks.

“I am so sorry for your loss, son,“ he says, placing a hand on my shoulder. “I can’t imagine what you must be going through. I am so sorry to ask this, but we need you to come with us to the station for some statements.”

“Wh-why did this happen?” My question is aimed at God, but the officer answers instead.

“I am so sorry,” he repeats, “It appears that the people in the apartment next to you got into some kind of alteration, and he shot her. One of the bullets must have missed her and gone through the wall and…”

Suddenly, I remember my dream from the previous night, and it all makes sense why I woke up in a cold sweat and had the overwhelming urge to rearrange the living room this morning.

“Why couldn’t Dad just leave the couch by the window?” I ask.

God doesn’t answer, and this time neither does the Officer. ________________________________________________________ (C) GIna Clingan 2018 Originally published on Thought Catalog

#Gina Clingan #Creepypasta #Scary story #scary #creepy

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schrijverr · 4 years

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An Insightful Picnic

Will and Tom look after Mary and Jane while Polly and Mrs. Blake are away. They go on a picnic and musings about the future and what that means for them come to light.

From the Being Home series that starts with Returning Home and the Joe’s Letter.

On AO3.

Ships: Blakefield

Warnings: WW1 mentioned and period typical homophobia mentioned.

~~~~~~~~~~

It was summer in 1918, almost halfway through June in fact. The weather was lovely and the fields around the small town where the Blakes lived alongside the Schofield siblings. There would be some races with horses up near Birmingham and Mrs. Blake had decided to take Polly for a fun day out, she had wanted to invite Tom and Will as well along with the two little girls, but the two men had declined saying that they had seen enough horses in the war to be cured of any curiosity, the rotting horse corpses still fresh in their minds. With only two adults and a goal to relax it was also decided that the twins would be better off staying with Tom and Will.

The two girls had been pretty disappointed to miss the races, so in order to make it up to them Tom and Will had planned a fun picnic in the forest. This delighted them to no end, Jane hadn’t been able to stop chattering on about it with a happy Mary on her trail. They had been even more excited when Tom had announced Saturday evening that they got to stay up a bit later to help him bake a cherry pie for the picnic the next day.

Jane was allowed to help with rolling out the dough and Mary with preparing the cherries. Tom did the measuring and most of the kneading, although both girls wanted to try, making it into a small competition. Will had watched them from the kitchen table with a fond smile. He had offered to do the clean up while Tom tucked the two girls in and told them a story.

When Tom came down again he wordlessly picked up a towel and started drying the dishes Will was washing. Will asked with a smirk: “Did they go to bed smoothly?”

Tom laughed: “They put up a good fight, but it’s late and I’m much stronger.” he paused his drying to flex his arms, making Will laugh. Indignantly he asked: “Oi, what are you laughing at?”

Will bit on his bottom lip to stop the smile, but it didn’t work. He gestured vaguely with the sponge at Tom and said: “Just, just you, dumbass. Very heroic, winning against two seven-year-olds.”

Tom pouted for a second then he couldn’t help, but laugh as well. He jokingly tried to save his pride by saying: “Hey, your nieces can be menaces. I don’t know how Polly, does it every night.”

“Don’t involve me into it, they’ve adopted you as an uncle, they’re your nieces now too. And I feel you are the bad influence out of the two of us.” Will said.

A burst of warmth went through Toms chest. Will had come so far from the lonely, quiet and sad chap he had met out on the fields of France. He was more happy now and it made Tom so proud that he was part of Wills family and vise versa. They probably could never have anything public or official, but these feeling they were real and that could never be taken from them.

Will noticed his silence and raised a concerned eyebrow at him, not saying anything as well. Tom smiled at him to reassure him that nothing was wrong and quickly leaned in for a kiss. There was no one else in the house, Mrs. Blake and Polly had already gone further North and Jane and Mary were in bed.

The kiss was soft. It was quiet, but said a thousand words. It said I love you, I’m proud of you, I’m glad to have you in my life. It said never let go of me, because I will never let go of you. They didn’t need to say those words, because they already knew them, but it was nice to let the warm feeling flow between them in that small kitchen on that summer eve.

The next day they were pulled out of bed by two excited young ladies, who had burst through the door and jumped on the bed startling the two sleeping ex-soldiers. It spoke volumes about their progress that the only physical reaction they had to the sudden intrusion was startling into an upright position, with they fists up. Jane and Mary didn’t notice it, just pulled on their hands as they complained that it was morning and they wanted to go.

After telling them to go downstairs, the two got up and started to get dressed. It was a familiar routine. Tom got dressed completely, while Will got dressed as far as he could with one hand and made the bed, when both were done with that Tom tied Wills laces and did up his buttons, before heading downstairs.

They ate a quick and small breakfast, before preparing the last of their food for the lunch, packing it all into a basket and calling Myrtle. Then they were off, Jane wanted to hold the basket at first, but when Mary had stopped to pluck a flower and stick it in her hair, Jane had opted to hand Will the basket, so that she could do the same. Will had smiled at that and shared an amused look with Tom.

It was probably better that the basket was occupying his only hand, because it had been nearly habit to slip his into Toms the moment they entered the forest, but with Mary and Jane there they couldn’t risk it.

Soon they arrived at a small clearing in the middle of the forest. It was a quiet spot that not many people knew about, so Tom and Will found themselves there quite often. Normally they would sit on the ground, but to spare the girls light dresses from too many grass stains they’d brought a checkered blanket to sit on.

It was a pretty big blanket, but with the two girls and all the food on it Will and Tom had to sit on the ground. They didn’t mind, but Jane did. She said: “No, uncle Will, uncle Tom, you have to sit on the blanket as well. Otherwise it wouldn’t be a good picnic.”

Beside her Mary nodded seriously as Jane pouted at them. Will smiled at them and explained that they couldn’t fit on the blanket, but that it was alright, because they didn’t mind sitting in the grass. The two wouldn’t hear it. They started to rearrange all the food, until their was a small enough spot for both of them to sit on. And when they said small, they meant small. The only way they could fit was if one of them sat cross-legged and the other squeezed on right beside that with his feet and legs in the grass. After a small conversation with their eyes, Tom was the one sitting cross-legged.

Jane and Mary were pleased and the picnic could begin. Myrtle laid next to blanket and her tail wagging as she closed her eyes and rested in the sun. She had taken a liking to the twins and Will could understand why as he watched them pet her absentmindedly throughout the lunch and sneakily feed her some meat from the sandwiches when Tom wasn’t looking.

When they had sat there for a while Jane and Mary were starting to get bored, Tom picked up on it and suggested: “Why don’t you go play with Myrtle, while me and Will watch the blanket. She needs some exercise and I’m sure she would appreciate your company.”

At that the two lit up and sprinted off with Myrtle, before they could get too far Will yelled: “Stay in sight, don’t go too far!”

Jane gave a yell back while Mary waved at them to signal they had heard, neither of them stopping for a second. Tom smiled and said: “Children, I’ll always be surprised at the amount of energy they have.”

Will gave him a look and said: “Like you aren’t still a child as well.”

His comment earned him a shove and he allowed himself to fall backwards, using the momentum to roll onto his feet. He gathered the left overs to make space on the blanket, seeing what he was doing Tom helped until there was enough space to sit down properly together.

From their blanket they watched the two girls run around with Myrtle, laughing and shrieking in delight. If he squinted enough, he could almost picture a future like this. A future where he and Tom could have kids and live happily on the countryside with no war going on and no hate against them and people like them. He knew that future wasn’t going to happen, but he hoped that it at least could stay like this for a little longer.

Tom noticed his far off look and softly asked: “What is going on in that brain of yours?”

“Hmm?” Will locked their eyes as he processed the question, then he looked back at Mary and Jane and sighed: “Just, what could be, you know, if the world wasn’t shit. What our future could have been.”

Tom understood, when he had realized how much he loved his then friend, he knew what he would have to sacrifice to love him. But Tom also saw how much they could have. He knew Will and Polly were trying to make her dream of owning an inn a reality and he knew that it would be hard if they ever wanted that small home for just them, yet he was hopeful. He believed that a long and good life wasn’t that far out of reach if they tried. So, he said: “Our future can still be something, love. Maybe not kids and marriage, but Mary and Jane need us and I know that we don’t need formalities to be happy, right?”

He gently bumped his shoulder into Wills and gave him a tranquil and inquisitive look. Will bit his lip and frowned a bit as he thought, then he said: “You’re probably right and I do want to be here for them and Polly and Mrs. Blake, but I can’t understand how you’re so certain of this hope for the future. After everything we’ve seen, after we felt first hand how easily life slips away.”

Toms eyes saddened a bit with Will words, but he knew where his boyfriend was coming from and if he was good at something, it was talking to cheer Will up and give him hope. So he leaned back on his hands and stared up to the sky as he said: “I think that’s what gives me hope. Life is so fragile, but we made it this far and until it slips away you need to make the best of it, you know? Maybe our future won’t be all that we dream to be, but if we give up before we try we might never see how close we can get. I practically died out there is France, all I’m living now is extra and I’m going to make the best of it.” he looked back at Will and finished: “And I hope I get to do that with you.”

Will blushed from the sudden eye contact along with the words and he struggled with a reply. In the end he settled on giving Tom a quick hug and a pack on his cheek after he had quickly glanced at Mary and Jane to see if they were looking, the two were still wrapped up in their own fantasy world and didn’t notice. He whispered: “Thank you.”

Tom petted his hair and said: “No need, did it with love.”

They enjoyed the rest of the afternoon in the same fashion, until it was late and they needed to head home. This saddened the twins, but they still followed after them. They were tired after a day of fun and the prospect of a bed and dinner didn’t sound so bad, although neither would admit that if asked.

Will made a simple soup with the help of Tom, which the four of them ate while sitting on the porch and watching the sun lower over the fields.

Then it was time for bed. Will and Tom escorted the girls upstairs and helped them get ready for the night. Tom tucked in Jane, while Will tucked in Mary. They wanted to leave quietly, believing the girls close to sleep, but a tug from Mary and a soft protest from Jane stopped them. They wanted a story, a real story, about France, not a fairytale.

Tom shrugged and settled down at the end of the bed while Will did the same. Tom started: “This is a story that begins with a sad ending.”

“How can that be?” Jane asked.

“Well, it starts with me getting badly hurt.” Tom told her.

“What happened to you?” Mary asked.

“Me and your uncle Will had been send out on a mission. We were well on our way, when we saw three planes flying over. We watched as one om them crashed down, the man inside still alive.”

The girls gasped as Will frowned, he could understand which story Tom was telling, but he didn’t understand why he would tell that one. It wasn’t one of the happier stories, certainly not, it also wasn’t very fun to listen to, especially if you were a child. Still Tom went on: “We saved the man, but it was too late, he was close to death and he used the last of his strength in attacking me, hurting me badly, which is where I wanted to start.”

Will appreciated that Tom left out that Will had been the one to kill the German soldier. And listened closely to try and figure out where Tom was going with this.

“I couldn’t go on and told Will to leave me and finish our mission, because it was very important.” Tom said, “He didn’t want to, but he had to. Not soon after he had left me to find on his way back, a medical team found me.”

The end of that was just plain false, but Will liked this version of what happened much better than the real one. The one where Tom had nearly died and had lain there for hours in pain, just waiting for anyone to help, the one where he didn’t go back for him.

“Did they help you?” Jane asked.

Tom smiled: “They did, they got me back home.”

“That’s good, right? It’s not sad anymore now.” Mary added.

“It is good, I got the help I needed, but Will couldn’t find me anymore.” Tom said.

Mary interrupted again: “But that is not good at all!”

“But it’s going to end well, don’t worry.” Tom reassured her, “It was indeed quite sad that me and Will couldn’t find each other again. We thought that maybe we never would and we both hated being separated from a good friend.”

Will nearly snorted at Toms description of their relationship, but kept his mouth as he absentmindedly stroked Marys lower leg as they all listened to Tom, who went on: “We didn’t see each other for a long time, but then suddenly I get an answer to the letter I send Will. It had arrived with him and he had send a letter back. Suddenly we could find each other again.”

Jane cheered and Mary smiled. Tom continued: “We met up again and although it had taken hard work to get there, we could now be friends once more. The end.”

Jane yawned and said: “That was a good story, I like it.”

Mary nodded as well and soon both had drifted off to sleep. Quietly Tom and Will left the room and went downstairs. Once they were out of earshot and didn’t risk waking them up Will softly asked: “That story was more for me, wasn’t it.”

“If you think you needed to hear it, sure.” Tom replied with a wink.

Will would’ve been mad to be treated like a kid, but honestly it was nice to think Tom was so sure of their survival and their future. It gave him hope too, so he just smiled back and asked if Tom wanted some tea.

They sat in the living room, just enjoying each other company until it was late at night. They slept in each others arms and comforted the other when the dreams weren’t kind.

The next day Mrs. Blake and Polly returned and were nearly overrun with two excited girls, who chattered on about the picnic and how fun it had been. Polly told them: “How nice of your uncles, we might have to hire them full time to babysit you two.”

The girls pouted and told their mother that they didn’t need to be babysat, because they were already old enough to look after themselves. Polly just smiled at that, but didn’t comment. She did look up in surprise when Tom said: “We’re happy to, just say the word when you need the helping hand.”

From the living room Will looked at Tom, who was standing in the hallway, and smiled. He heard Polly backtrack, saying it was just a joke and that he didn’t have to, really. Will stuck his head around the corner and said: “It isn’t a bother, Polls.”

He and Tom smiled at each other and he thought that they were going to be alright.

#RR writing #1917 #1917 movie #tom blake #Tom x Will #will schofield #Wills nieces #tw: mentions of war #tw: war mention #tw: homophobia mentioned #blakefield

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