#he says it’s the last day to work on it . IN CLASS .
Note
OMG I love your writing for the yan. Bully. Could you write more of him?
TW: language, violence, minors DNI
—
You cut around a corner, praying to god that he didn’t see you.
It was routine at this point to make a break for the door the minute the bell rang, immediately looking for a possible escape route. He’d notice if you took the same path too often, so you’d risk setting off the emergency exits, leave through the front door only if the crowd was big enough to hide you, and the back door if you got a chance to leave your last class early, hoping to sneak out before he even had an opportunity to lie in wait for you.
It didn’t always work; most times, it didn’t. But when it did, he seemed to double down, making it increasingly difficult to escape without some form of harassment.
You remembered the first time you managed to leave school without running into him. It felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off of your chest, and you thought maybe this was the chance you’d been hoping for this entire time. That you just needed to wait him out, and he would eventually get bored and lose interest before going home.
Slammed into the brick wall before the bell rang to signify that your classes were starting for the day, you knew how wrong you were when you saw the livid expression on his face.
It was stupid. You knew his harassment would only get worse if you managed to escape his notice today, but there was no fucking way you were just going to sit there and take it. His harassment got worse if you obeyed, and it was fucking awful when you didn’t. You’d offered everything you could think of to appease him, to get him off your back, but he’d chosen you as his new target and refused to let you go that easily.
“There you are.” you heard his voice say. You didn’t have enough time to run before he grabbed your shirt by the collar and dragged you into the boy’s bathroom.
There was no point in looking for help. You’d stupidly cornered yourself in an isolated part of the school, thinking you could make it to the rarely used staircase before sprinting for the back door. A roundabout method that bit you in the ass today.
Being shoved in the bathroom, you got into a defensive stance. It never ended well if you tried to fight back against him. Looking at the cocky expression on his face, you could tell he was probably thinking something similar. He loved to remind you of your place.
“How’s my bitch doing?” he asked, walking forward.
His eyebrows rose at your continued silence, and you stepped back when he approached. “Are you deaf? I asked you a question.”
You remembered the last time you tried to ignore his prodding. If you hadn’t reacted as quickly as you had and raised your hands to shield your head, it would’ve been slammed into the wall. Saying he had a nasty temper was putting it lightly.
When you saw his hand ball into a fist, your courage withered as you looked away.
“Fine,” you said through gritted teeth. He took another step closer that had you backing into a wall.
There was an unsettling look, but it transformed into a large grin as he lifted his hand to slap you on the cheek before laughing.
“That’s good,” he said, shoving one of his hands in his pocket while the other clipped you chin before turning your head as he pleased as he cocked his head to the side. “I was going to wait at the entrance, but something told me you would turn tail and run. It’s pure luck that I caught you.”
Your avoidance had become too obvious. You should’ve gotten lost in the crowd on the way to the entrance or hung out in your class until your teacher kicked you out—anything to avoid him without tipping him off.
“Is there something wrong?” he asked, his voice mocking even though he wanted you to answer. “I was under the impression that we had gotten close over the last few months,” he said, taking another step forward.
There was nowhere for you to go. He crowded your space to the point where you could feel his breath on your face, and it was getting increasingly harder to breathe.
“Can you stop this?” you asked, pushing his hand away. Your hand was slapped, a sharp sting almost making you wince but you grit your teeth.
“Stop what?” he asked, putting his free hand into his pocket. His voice was innocent, seemingly unaware of what you were talking about despite having cornered you in the boys’ bathroom with your back against the wall.
“I don’t know what I did to make you so upset, but can’t you just go back to ignoring me? Please?”
“Please?” he exclaimed, coming closer despite the little space there was between you. “Now you’re begging me? Fuck, is it my birthday?”
He made you uneasy.
A look was enough, so when he did things like this you felt the urge to gouge his eyes out so he could never look at you again with those eyes, daring you to look at him. He knew what his gaze did to you and so he’d goad you until your gaze finally met his.
Intense and expecting, you could never hold it for long. He noticed. He loved it.
“I don’t know why you keep asking me. Didn’t we already talk about this?”
“I want you to leave me alone.”
You don’t know where your courage came from. You weren’t exactly afraid of him, but that look he would give, would strike fear in you. He was someone you would never want to run on the street for as long as you lived the minute you escaped from this fucking hellscape they called highschool.
“Leave me alone.” he said in a mocking voice. “I want you to leave me alone. Well, I don’t want to leave you alone. We’ve discussed this.”
His hand patted your cheek, as he smiled.
“You have two options. You can either be my bitch,” he began, his gaze shifting lower as his hand rested on your hip, a thumb caressing your side. “...or you can be my friend.”
The goosebumps were unbearable as you shoved him back.
He laughed. It was never a good sign.
You stepped to the side right as his fist collided with the wall where your head had been.
“Ow! Fuck! Don’t move!”
You didn’t listen.
You tried to take off for the door, but you slipped right as you made it to grab the handle. You had to balance yourself before attempting to yank the it open and it was all the time he needed for his good hand to grab the collar of your shirt and yank you back into the bathroom before you could get away.
“If you want me to treat you like a bitch, I’ll threat you like a fucking-”
You felt a couple of buttons on your shirt pop as you attempted to wrestle your way out of his grip, but he manhandled you to the floor.
With a hand around your neck he used his other hand to yank at your collar. You didn’t understand what he was doing, but you knew it was dangerous to be underneath him.
“What the fuck is this?” he asked, the balled up shirt in his grip revealing bruises that started at your neck and disappeared underneath your shirt.
Did he really have to ask?
With his friends watching his each and every move, it was no wonder they picked up on the true nature of your relationship. He would act friendly in front of prying eyes, but the minute the two of you were alone, the mask came off.
They figured he wanted to let off some steam for that first punch you threw and they were all too willing to help him seek his revenge.
“Who did this to you?” he asked, hand still gripping the ripped collar of your shirt in his fist.
“Fuck off.” you growled, attempting to push him off of you, but he grabbed your forearm, forcing you to your back before he shook you, causing your head to smack against the tiled floor.
“Who the fuck did this?”
“It was your fucking friends!” you shouted, grabbing his wrists to try and pry him off of you. You were sick of this. You were sick of him. God, your head fucking hurt.
“Who was it?” he asked, flinging your wrists away as he tried to force your shirt off, gritting his teeth and going for your belt buckle instead when you began to fight him. “Where else did they touch you?”
What? Was he worried about you getting bruises that didn’t come from him?
“Fuck off, you asshole! I got thrown against a wall a couple of times and that was it.”
You weren’t prepared, nor did you really comprehend the moment his fist reared back before slamming into your face.
A wet crunch made your eyes water as you groaned in pain. Arm cocked back, he punched you again, and it was only by the third time his fist landed did you think to raise your arms to defend.
You couldn’t throw him off of you. Any leverage you gained would be gone the minute you lowered your arms because you would be in too much pain to do much of anything besides making it stop.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he yelled, grabbing you by he collar and dragging you sit up. “I’m supposed to be your friend!”
“Fuck you.”
“What do you hope to accomplish by being so stubborn, huh?” he asked, shaking you again. “Anyone else would kill to be in your fucking shoes.”
“Then why don’t you go and bother them‽” you yelled, glaring at him through the pain. You tried to shove him again, but he wouldn’t move. It was like he was rooted on top of you and you yelled before falling back sluggishly. “There are plenty of people who would willingly fall into your lap. Why me?”
He was looking at you again, with those eyes.
“I think I might be willing to leave you alone for a bit.” he said, putting his hands on either side of your head. He leaned closer until you could feel his breath fanning across your face.
“For a little kiss.”
You didn’t say anything.
His eyes flickered between your eyes and lips, for the first time he seemed unsure what your silence meant.
It was almost amusing. The way his confidence deflated as he leaned closer, afraid that he might arouse your defiance if he moved too quickly.
He got closer, closer until his breath was on your lips, until you could feel the nervousness in it, until
#yandere#yandere x you#yandere oc#male yandere#yandere x darling#yandere x reader#ask#yandere male#yandere bully
264 notes
·
View notes
Text
Mr Flavor Soda Part 2
Mr. Flavor's Soda gains traction once the creator starts selling in a fixed place. Anthony's Pasta also grows in customers when word gets out that there is a surefire way of crossing paths with Mr. Flavor on Mondays and Fridays.
It's mainly because Mr. Flavor has gained a reputation for being hard to find. It was almost as if he vanished from one side of the city to the next without so much as a hint of how he got there.
However, that didn't mean he wasn't well known. He was a young teenager, likely fifteen or so, who always rushed about Gotham doing questionable parkour.
People had seen him climb up fire escapes only to do crazy leaps, looking to be aiming for his knees to break on each landing. He was spotted doing cartwheels across walking lanes, sometimes going over the hoods of cars that stopped on the lines instead of around.
He deliberately looked for the most haunted places in Gotham, walking with a traveling tea set because "the ghosts like to have tea parties." He had picnics in the middle of dark alleys, asking the air if it would like a second cup but pouring nothing from his teacup.
People were often confused by his responses when speaking to him. Nothing he said was particularly bad, but it showed his severe social awkwardness.
Customers walked away bemused but holding bottles of delicious beverages.
Another odd thing about the boy was his refusal to sell any of his creations for more than a single dollar. Nothing in Gotham was cheap. A regular Zesti was at least two dollars and nineteen cents, but Mr. Flavor looked appalled to charge so much.
A kid claiming to be among the original group that discovered Mr. Flavor, bestowing him the nickname, quoted the strange soda maker as saying, "If someone gives me a dollar, then I am one dollar richer. But if someone gives me two dollars, then they are two dollars poorer instead of only one."
It sounded humble on the surface, but it didn't really answer the questions the kid had originally asked him which were: "Why do you only charge a dollar? Why not more?"
Some people in Gotham were weary of Mr. Flavor. He didn't sound all quite there in the head. He wasn't near the level of insanity of the supervillains running around, but it wouldn't be a surprise if they all woke up one day to find out Mr. Flavor had snapped.
The remaining skeptics also regarded his drinks with cautious eyes. Despite his claims and the word of Red Hood, many wondered if Mr. Flavor was putting some kind of drug in his drink, hoping to spread it to the masses with his cheap prices.
If he was even selling soda at all.
Zesti is a familiar and beloved brand, but Mr. Flavor was once seen tasting the beverage and shouting, "Is this cream soda?!" He then bought one bottle or can of every soda option from the same gas station.
Each one was apparent "cream soda" according to Mr. Flavor. It was confirmed that the drinks the young boy made were far from the flavor of what they considered soda.
Now, Tim didn't see anything wrong with that. Jason had brought back samples of the other's work, and though the ingredients were interesting, they were ultimately confirmed to be soda. Or as close to soda as Mr. Flavor claimed it was.
He was just a bit eccentric while wandering Gotham. Nothing to worry about. Tim, knowing Jason, Bruce- and maybe even Dick with how determined his eldest brother was to try one of the sodas- had everything regarding Mr. Flavor under control; he chose to turn his attention to a series of missing people reports hitting Old Gotham.
There was no visible connection with the victims besides all having long chestnut hair. Age, gender, and social class didn't matter to whoever was taking these people- and Tim knew they were being taken. Tim found it strange that people who vanished were last seen near the same area, having built a map showcasing they were being targeted within a triangle that covered well-known shopping districts.
It was a bit of ground to cover, but Tim figured if he wandered around there long enough, he would attract the kidnapper's attention. He opened his closet, dusted off his old wig, and an hour later, Caroline Hill made her way over to Old Gotham.
Tim originally hated his Caroline Hill as he did not like disguising himself as a woman, but over time, he grew to adore how easily he could change her backstory and his mannerisms to fit with whoever Caroline was that day.
Sometimes, Caroline was a first-year medical student working through clinicals and rotations. She was overworked, under a lot of stress from her assignments, and didn't have time to be distracted by a social life, much less a man asking her out.
Sometimes Caroline was a highschool student who enjoyed community service. She was friendly, outgoing, and more then willing to take the lead in projects. She was naive and sheltered not losing faith in people quite yet.
Other times, Caroline was a high school dropout who didn't know what she wanted. She would apply to any job that would hire her, dreaming of leaving Gotham one day to find a dream to chase. To her, life was dull and meaningless.
Caroline was even a fashion model once. She was famous for her streetwear outfits and gorgeous selt-taken shots. Tim was proud to say her submission to LexCorp's phone promotion contest was still being broadcast, and she received checks for her work. She oozed confidence as a woman who knew what and when she wanted it.
It showed in her walk as she strutted down Old Gotham, stopping to enter any clothing Boutique she saw under the pretense of looking for an outfit for a big-shot party. She was dressed like the world was her runway, but not a red carpet.
If anything, she dressed like a woman who used to live in Old Gotham during its glory days, gracefully wearing the vintage outfit.
Her attire drew the eye of more than one person, especially when she ran her hand through her long, lush hair, making it fall smoothly against her lower back.
Tim figured model Caroline would be a much more tempting target, mainly because she carelessly browsed the various shops and little cafes. Anyone who watched her could tell she was unaware of her surroundings, and Tim had to carefully ensure they never doubted her blindness for even a second.
It was well; he was in an antique shop, glancing at lipstick holders, when something finally happened. The door swung open with a bang, and he allowed himself to jump as it would be something Caroline would do.
"Sorry! I gave the door a little too much razzle instead of dazzle!" a voice yells. Tim twists around to see a boy his age, with wild black hair—as if he did try to run a comb through it, but the strains refused to yield—and big, sparkling, far too aqua eyes.
Was he wearing cheap color contacts? Or was he a meta?
"No problem, Danny." Ms. Pinkney, the owner, a sweet woman who had refused to marry and was now approaching her sixties, smiled back. "Are you here again to play with Cyrus?"
"Yup, I'm going to beat him today." The boy chirps, walking over to a display that was roped off. He didn't seem to care for the sign on the red rope that read "WARNING: HAUNTED BY ANGRY SPIRIT" as he stepped over it.
It was the notoriously cursed chessboard and the two original armchairs from the eighteen hundreds.
Tim knew of the rumor that the man responsible for Gotham's architectural style- Cysrus Pinkney- had been in the middle of a chess game with his friend Solomon Wayne on the eve of his fortieth birthday when he had died.
He had been poisoned in the middle of a large party thrown by Henry Cobblepot, and no one to this day knew who his murder had been. Following Pinkney's death, terrible things happened to anyone who tried to sit or even move the chessboard. Sounds of chess pieces clicking on the board, low mutters in a man's voice, and even the chair moving back and forth began to appear.
Figthen that Cysrus still lingered; Henry had gifted Cysrus's wife the two chairs, the board, and the table it sat on. She took it home and learned that only she and her children were allowed near Cysrus.
He attacked all the others, including Solomon and his other best friend, Amadeus Arkham. The attacks were so bad that everyone eventually knew not to bother Cysrus.
He became an Urban Legend of Gotham, and many tourists would travel to Old Gotham just to gawk at the Pinkey's haunted family heirlooms.
Tim watched him confidently sit in an armchair before a chessboard. He gave the opposite chair across from him a wide smile. "Hiya Cyrus."
A lamp near Tim was flung at the boy, who took the hit with a laugh. "No need to be rude."
The lamp shattered against the ground, appearing to have been lifted again, only to fall as the boy reached out and moved a pawn. Tim's stomach dropped. His experience with Greta had taught him that ghosts were very real and, when their deaths were left unsolved, often very violent.
This guy had no idea what he was dealing with.
He opens his mouth when the teenager is suddenly flung from his seat, flying across the room and smashing against the wall. Ms. Pinkney laughs as if she just saw a toddler throw a fit.
"Honestly, grandfather, must you be so rude? Danny is just trying to play with you."
Tim watches her hair shift as if someone- or something- was ruffling her hair. Yikes, it was a poltergeist who unliked Greta was not visible but able to touch anything he pleased.
"Knight G1 to F3!" Danny yells, climbing to his feet. The scraping sounds of something being dragged across the floor as Danny twists around with his arms spread wide as a very large wardrobe rushes at him. He welcomed the attack like an old friend, nose cracking as it broke.
"Going Ghost!" Danny screams through his blood, landing on the ground as the wardrobe nearly crushes him.
Tim's mouth drops open. He's taunting Cyrus!? Not challenging his existence but straight up taunting the angered spirit?!
"Grandfather!" Ms. Pinkney scowls. "Stop this at once! You're usually more friendly than this. Danny is a guest!"
"It's okay, Ms. P! I think it's almost Cyrus' death day. All ghosts tend to get a little cranky around that time. Besides we're scaring the lady."
It takes an embarrassing amount of time for " lady" Danny to refer to him as he still wears Caroline. It's enough for the boy to leap to his feet, pat himself down—ignoring the broken nose—and strut to Tim.
Before the undercover man can say anything, Danny yanks out a bottle and hands it over. "Sorry about that, ma'am. Here, I have one on the house."
A Mr.Flavor bottle is thrust into his hands; the bubbling clear water with the leaping boy has green and yellow undertones. It's the only difference to the bottle Jason showed him not too long ago.
The teenager smiles, his teeth colored red. "You're quite pretty. Have a good day! Don't let your drink get warm!"
Then he skipped right out.
"Wha?" He blinks, and Ms. Pinkney slides right up to him with a ruthful smile.
"I know what you're thinking. I don't believe Danny is eccentric, but he has a good heart." She starts carefully, studying Tim's face with far too much intensity. It's not the kind of attention that one gives someone who they are just trying to convince to leave someone else alone. Her eyes linger on his wing for a few seconds too long.
Isn't her shop smack in the middle of the missing people's map? Interesting.
"Who was that?" He says instead, making sure Caroline's voice sounds breathy and sweet.
She smiles "Danny. But most know him as Mr.Flavor."
Tim looks at the bottle in his hands, feeling the ice-cold beverage- did he just pull it out of a freezer?- and unclips it to have a sip. It's nothing like soda, but it is at the same time.
It was far smoother than other sodas, with far more bubbles, and the flavor made his tastebuds sing.
"Oh, looks like you got Sprite. That's one of my favorites," Ms Pinkney comments. "Rare that one. Danny usually sells out by now."
"Does he come here often?"
The old woman laughs. "I'm afraid you're barking up the wrong tree, dearie."
Not what he meant, but if it kept his new number one suspect to chat more, he is fine with the assumption.
"Does he not like girls?" Tim asks, allowing his features to pull into a pout. He is very grateful that her made Caroline young enough to pass for his own real age.
"I don't believe he likes humans, I'm afraid. Male or female."
Huh?
But Ms. Pinkney's attention was distracted by the chess board, which shook slightly as the pieces previously moved by Mr. Flavor returned to their starting positions. She walked over to carefully lift up the thrown wardrobe.
Tim is quick to help her, slowly restoring the shop to its former glory. It's only after they finish that the old lady glances in the direction in which Mr. Flavor disappeared.
"Grandfather Cyrus is my great-great-great-great-grandfather. It's easier for me to call him grandfather since he's been around for generations, but his closeness has made the family tree a bit sensitive to the paranormal. I'm unsure what Danny is, but he doesn't feel human." She sighs. "I doubt he will find what he is looking for if he continues going about things like this."
"Like what?" Tim asks, stepping closer. "What's Danny looking for?"
The old woman's dark eyes chill down his spine as she gazes at him. "Death."
In the corner of Tim's eye, a man sitting at a chess set nods his head. He decides it's a good time to end his daily undercover work. Tim leaves, strutting with less grace as his mind recounts everything he knows about Mr. Flavor.
He is unaware of the person watching him from the alley, eyes tracing the lovely mane of chestnut hair. The grin that blooms over their face is nothing else but hungry.
#dcxdpdabbles#dcxdp crossover#Mr.Flavor#Part 2#Tim's pov#Danny is really weird#a true Willy Wonka#Tim is on a case#And Danny is still trying to force his other form#Picking fights with ghosts should work#Not sure if I'll make this Dead Tired or gen yet#Hope I made the haunting a little creepy
213 notes
·
View notes
Text
Leather & Lace
Hello my angels and welcome to Leather and Lace!!! We’ve got a very cute 3 parter (I’ve finished writing it) coming in for you guys. We love a good grumpy x sunshine and couldn’t help ourselves writing another one. Please leave us feedback! We love to hear from you
Check out our Patreon for early access to parts 2&3, as well as 170+ exclusive writings!
Wc- 8.2k
Warnings- oral sex, praise kink, soft Dom h, opposites attract, cum play/swapping
---------
“How can you be this happy in the morning?” Harry grunted, hoodie pulled over his head as he sat down next to a bubbly Y/N. Her couch was comfortable but it didn’t make up for the fact that he was at her flat at 8 in the morning.
“It’s not that early, lazy bones.” She hummed, tucking her legs under her as she sat down on the other side. “Thank you for coming to help today, by the way. I know you don’t like getting up early.”
He really didn’t, was the thing. He hated it. Harry only had so many days off and after working a long shift bartending last night, the very last thing he wanted to do was help someone unpack in their new flat. He’d rather claw at concrete than be awake right now, rather eat a raw egg, rather go through tattoo removal. If it was anyone but Y/N he would have laughed in their face at the mere ask.
But it was her. It was twinkly eyed, pouty lipped, warm hearted Y/N who had asked him a week in advance and promised him a bagel with cream cheese and an iced coffee for brekkie, whatever he wanted for lunch, and ‘whatever he wanted in general!’. Little did she know he was going to say yes anyway, considering he knew he couldn’t say no to her sweet little ask with her smaller hand on his tattooed arm and wide eyes peering up at him. He wasn’t someone who liked to do things for many people without there being some sort of monetary gain, but this was different.
Y/N had somehow latched herself onto one of the grumpiest bastards in the area while she herself was one of the sweetest girls he’d ever seen. Rarely spoke a mean word of anyone (except when they hurt someone close to her), went out of her way to help anyone who needed it and always wanted to be a shoulder to cry on. He’d seen her take money from her own wallet to cover someone’s bill when they were short, even seen her rush to help an elderly man across the street. It got her into trouble sometimes which was why he was glad that he’d been the hip she’d chosen to attach to.
Their first interaction had been him sitting in the courtyard of their uni, listening to music under the tree. He’d had his sketchbook in hand, doodling in between classes when he looked up to see a girl with a pretty yellow bow in her hair offering him a cupcake because he looked ‘sad.’. He had been sad, actually, but that was pretty much his normal resting face. He’d tried to blow her off but she’d taken a seat next to him, introducing herself and telling him about her own day to ‘distract him’. He hated to admit that it worked.
From then on, she popped up everywhere. At first he’d been a bit worried that she was following him but it truly was a coincidence. Y/N had found her way under his skin, wriggled her way into that cold heart of his and made it warm up just a little each time she came around. At some point she’d become a daily fixture in his life, her texts lighting up his phone with emojis and telling him to meet her at the cafe or the library- and for some reason, he followed.
“Mmm. Know y’wanted me here to see me get all sweaty. If y’wanted to see my tats and muscles so badly, you coulda just said so, Sweets.” He smirked, watching her eyes widen. So easy to fluster.
“No! Stop teasing me, s’not nice.” She grumbled, poking his knee with her socked foot. She’d chosen lavender striped ones today. “I don’t have a lot of strong friends, you know that. Niall’s comin’ by after work to help you put the bedframe together and move the books from the car. Besides, I’ll let you sleepover and everything after we’re all done. I know you loveeeee my bed.”
He did. But more than anything he liked laying in said bed with her. Harry had a hard time admitting he had begun to gain feelings for the girl but deep down he knew he did. He liked that she insisted on cuddles, curling her leg around his and nuzzling her face into his chest, or even better yet the crook of his neck. Loved when she’d sleepily ask him questions about his life and tell him facts about her own. She resembled a tiny kitten while sleepy, insistent on getting all of the pets and attention.
Harry had decided he wasn’t the relationship type after his last girlfriend had cheated on him with his old best mate- but meeting Y/N had reminded him of the die hard romantic that laid underneath the surface. All the hard work he’d had piling up bricks on top of his red, bleeding heart had seemed to be consistently excavated by the pastel wearing girl who still enjoyed the fairy lights he used to see online in those aesthetic bedroom photos. It scared him a bit at first. Even now, he was nervous about the idea of getting closer to her than they were now because her heart was a tender and precious thing and he didn’t necessarily trust himself not to hurt her- but then again, he knew he’d do miles better than anyone else could. He’d spent the time learning about her as the months went by, listening to her drawl on about the pinterest boards she made, her dream finds she always looked for at the thrift stores, her least favorite reality TV contestants, which pastries she found to be too dry at the cafe and which had the best level of moisture, what blankets she liked, every little tidbit he had stored away in his brain to use at a later date.
No one would be as protective of her as he would be, which was why lately he’d been entertaining the thought of perhaps moving past the point of no return and trying to see if maybe, possibly, perhaps.. They could be more.
It had come with a lot of deliberating but he’d come to understand that if he failed, Y/N wouldn’t caste him to the side. She’d never in a million years abandon him like he feared, which only gave him more motivation to go for it though… He was still biding his time. He had to let her get settled here before he shook up her life a bit more.
They were opposites, the sweet girl and him. Harry was quite literally the bad boy cliche of everyone’s after school special’s dreams. His hair was long and curled, brushing his jaw. He went for darker clothing, usually his ripped black skinny jeans and a band tee but sometimes more eccentric with some silk and leaving his tits out when they went on a night out. His nose had a simple black hoop, his nails painted and chipped though this week they were a bubblegum pink, a la Y/N’s expertise. His body was hard from the gym he liked to frequent and inked, only getting more every month. He wore the occasional eyeliner when he felt spicy. That was only the physical things.
Sometimes he wondered why she felt drawn to him, as she said. He was dark and moody with a darker sense of humor. Somewhat of a pessimist, he expected the worst from people and tended to stay away from them the best he could. The opposite of a social butterfly, he only usually went out in the past for a drink or to get his cock wet, never for the pleasure of interacting with people. Even then it was rare considering he did quite well in the hookup area being a bartender himself.
Harry often wondered how and why she felt the pull to be around him and why she felt so at ease in his presence but he figured it had to be that he’d knocked the lights out of a bloke in her philosophy class who’d been riding her ass. He’d made the wrong decision of cornering Y/N at a party Harry had been dragged to, touching her a bit too much and not listening when her smile became thin and she backed away from him after giving a rejection much too polite than the man deserved. There had been no hesitation in laying him out, tugging Y/N into his side and demanding she stay with him for the rest of the party after she insisted she didn’t need to go home.
Funnily enough she’d been a hit with his own small group of friends, everyone also feeling the same sort of kindred protection over her. Not many people were genuinely warm and fuzzy in the way she was.
Y/N was… She was the sun, she was a cinnamon roll fresh baked on a sunday morning, she was a kitten sprawled in a sunbeam. All the good things, he could find a way to relate them to her. That probably should have been the indicator he had feelings for her far sooner than he’d ever let himself admit, but she had taken the time to crack him open.
It was hard to stop thinking about what made her both his opposite and so special. Harry dwelled on how soft her clothing always was, both in color and texture. She liked those pastel colors and fuzzy cardigans, hair bows and those signature mary janes with the tiny heels. Lip oil as opposed to lip gloss because it was ‘too sticky’ but still dragged all his attention to her lips and made him wonder if it really tasted like tangerine like it smelled.
Her touch was gentle and tender, cautious at first but as soon as she got the go ahead, she showered you in attention. At least, she did to him. Brushing stray hairs out of faces and wiping crumbs off cheeks, she had little sense of personal space once granted permission. She’d been mindful of his distaste for touch at the beginning but once he’d leaned into it, the girl had no qualms about straightening his shirt or leaning into his form, hell- there had been a few times she’d helped herself to his lap when there was no other seating option. Usually that was when she was tipsy considering she would most likely be a little shy sober, but that was something he enjoyed.
The light to his dark, he doubted anyone else could make him feel the way she could. Hence why he was up after only getting 4 hours of sleep, sipping the coffee she’d gotten him. There was little he wouldn’t do for a hint of her smile.
—--
“Babe, you’ve got t’make a decision.” Harry said gently, placing the large mirror down and leaning it against the wall.
“I know, I know but… It’s bad luck to have your mirror facing your bed.” She wrung her fingers together. “I’m sorry, H. I know I’ve been a bit of a pain in the rear today. I promise m’not trying to, but It’s my first place and I just want it to be perfect.” Her head looked down, making his heart squeeze.
God damn it. Leave it to her to make him feel like he’d kicked a puppy. Sighing, he tugged the bandana on his head back into place and approached her, placing his hand on her shoulder. “M’not upset with you. Promise. I just think you’re overthinking it a bit.” Her superstitions did tend to make her feel a little squirrely sometimes and he knew it. “We’re gonna make it look perfect. Incredible, even. Reckon the magazines will be calling you up to feature you, but we can’t just have a freestanding mirror slab.” He’d picked it up for her off of craigslist just a bit ago. Even if it wasn’t a dodgy listing, he wouldn’t let her go on her own. That’s how people got kidnapped.
“Ugh, I know.” She groaned, flopping into his chest. Never mind it being sweaty, she rubbed her nose between his tits and let out a tired groan, her hair smacking his chin. It’d been tossed up in a very messy bun that was a bit lopsided but made her look doubly as cute, though he didn’t tell her that. “Why don’t we mount it to the back of your door then? Not facing your bed, or another mirror.”
He could almost hear her brain going as she mulled it over before he felt the nod against his chest. “That will be good, I think. I love that idea.” Y/N had been going back and forth over design choices with him all day as if he had a clue about interior decor, but he had appreciated her caring about his opinion nonetheless. “That can be the last thing we do. Niall’s fucked off somewhere futzing with the books so we can eat after that’s done.”
The thud of his heart against her ear was steady as he gently ran a hand over her shoulderblade. “What’s on the menu?”
“Think we’re ordering pizza because I know m’too tired to cook which means you lot have to be too.” She chuckled, finally prying herself out of his chest and blinking up at him.”Then we can go to bed.” He was thankful her ear was away from his heart so she couldn’t hear the way it stuttered. You’d think after sleeping in her bed a multitude of times that he’d get used to the sound of that sentence but it still did him in every time.
“Okay. I can run and pick it up after I mount this to the door if you call it in.” He knew she wouldn’t want to go. It was visible on her face how tired she was and it melted him internally. He knew that she’d be a little snuggly menace tonight and fuck if he wasn’t looking forward to it. “Gonna run into the pharmacy t’grab some body wash for here, if thats okay?”
“Course it is.” She beamed at the suggestion, making him happy that he’d even brought it up. Y/N used to suggest he sleep heer a lot before and he’d refuse, thinking she was just trying to be polite- but she really did enjoy him staying with her. “I liked the pomegranate one you used last time, just sayin’.” Patting his chest she moved from his grip, heading to grab her phone. “Normal for you?”
“Yeah, love. Same as usual.” He rubbed over the achy spot in his chest that she’d left by pulling away, looking forward to sleeping tonight so he could feel it fill back up.
—-----------
Harry had grabbed the pomegranate bath stuff. He’d grabbed the whole line, actually, the shampoo, conditioner, body wash and some sort of ‘skin buff.’ Whatever that was.
Y/N had squeaked as he showed her, along with a pack of the makeup wipes she usually used and he’d steal. He’d figured it was about time to be the one to buy the replacements. “Ah! And you got the face mask I like.” Her eyes were wide and bright as she bounced on her toes, smacking a kiss to his stubbly cheek before looking back down at the holographic packaging. He’d hoped he had gotten the right one when he’d seen a sale on them when on his way to the check out counter. It was worth the little bit of money to feel her lips for a moment. “Thank you, H. You’re the best, as usual.”
“The hell am I?” Niall scoffed, wiping his hands dry after washing them.
“You’re great too, but he got me the face masks I like and they usually sell out. So he’s a bit higher up in points today.” She placated him, brushing past him to put them in the bathroom. “Harry, plate up the pizza, pretty please!”
As soon as she had disappeared, Niall shot him a look. “When are you two gonna make it official?” He whispered. “The heat eyes bouncin’ off the both of you is sickening at this point. She’s turned you soft.”
Harry settled with a glare, placing two slices on the paper plate and sliding it over to him. “Eventually. Her whole life is shifting. Can’t do shit right now without rattling her.” It was the first time he admitted or even hinted at having feelings for her besides point blank telling anyone who came around that she wasn’t available. Y/N didn’t know he did that though.
“Thank fuck you don’t still have your head up your arse. I was worried you’d never admit you’re gone for her.” He faked wiping sweat off his head making the other man roll his eyes. “She’ll be happy, H. You don’t have to worry about her rejecting you. Just go on and do it. She talks about you like you hang the moon every night at this point even when you aren’t around.”
A weakness he’d spotted, Harry stood a bit straighter before leaning in. “She does? What does she say?” Oh, he hated how desperate he sounded to hear the answer but the fluttering in his stomach made him insisting on finding out.
“Oh, how thoughtful and kind and generous you are and how you’re the best person she knows, all of that. She stares at her phone and waits for texts from you when she comes out and you’re working, gets these huge smiles or giggles when you do. or tries to get everyone to move the party to your bar.”
That last part, he’d hoped for. He liked the idea of her wanting to be physically close to him and suggesting everyone come and see him, but knowing she did the same thing he did when waiting for messages from him soothed a piece of him. He wasn’t alone in it. It was hard sometimes for him to decipher her behavior considering she was genuinely so friendly with everyone and he didn’t want to flatter himself and think it he was special… but apparently he was.
He didn’t have a chance to answer when Y/N glided from the bathroom, finding her spot on the kitchen barstools. “What did I miss?”
“Nothin’, Babe. Just chatting shit.” He murmured, sliding her a plate with her pizza of choice on it. “Figured we’d go to the grocery tomorrow, yeah? It’s a bit sparse in here with the food.” He had the next day off and intended on spending it with her. They’d made lots of progress today and had 80% of the place unpacked, but he knew she liked those restocking videos online. “Think they’ve got those organizers back in stock.”
“Oh!” She gasped.”Yes, you genius. I’ll need your help though, strong man. I like the one trip wonder.” It was a tease considering she knew Harry hated making multiple trips up with bags.
“Lucky for you, you’ve got a lift now and I’ve got that collapsible wagon.” Reaching out he gently flicked her nose for being a brat. “So we won’t have t’worry about that.”
—-----
Y/N was either very oblivious or a tease. Harry could never fully figure out which one.
He sat on her bed, messing with her telly when she emerged from the shower in her little cotton shorts and one of his shirts. It was one he’d just been looking for last week, actually, an old Iron Maiden one with a few holes in the collar area. Unmistakably his. The faded gray complimented her skin, looking extra cozy on her as her powder blue plush bunny slippers flopped against the ground and she made her way to her skincare desk.
“You little thief.” He grumbled from the bed, leaning against her headboard. “I was searching everywhere for that last week.” Though he had narrowed eyes she would know he was only teasing.
“You left it with me, remember? I ended up packing it so I wouldn’t forget it but… It’s super comfy.” She smiled guiltily at him, spinning in her chair. “Is it okay if I wear it? It still smells like your cologne and it helps me sleep sometimes…”
Ah, a shot to the heart.
Y/N didn’t know what it did to him to know he was an aid in good sleep. That it both made his heart stutter and his cock throb at the sight of her wrapped up in his clothing like she had all the rights to it. Like he was her boyfriend and she liked to wear it to remember him. Her scent had a similar effect on him, leaving it in his sheets when she stayed over, “Totally okay, lovely.” He smiled gently. “M’just teasing you. Though it does wonders for my ego to know you like my cologne that much.”
He knew he was making her a little flustered considering she didn’t look right at him, but he thrived off of that. Knowing he made an impact on her like that made him feel just a bit more confident that she felt similarly to him. There was no answer from her, but he wasn’t done with her quite yet. Standing up with a groan, he made his way over to her little makeup and skincare set up, placing his hands on the back of her chair. “What are you putting on your face?” He asked curiously, looking over her head to the products she had neatly organized.
“Well, first I wipe with one of these toning pads.” She opened the little tub, using a tiny pair of clear tongs to grab one. “You don’t want to be sticking your fingers in there and potentially making them all dirty so it came with this little thing. You give it a few passes over your t zone.” She showed him as she did it, Harry watching diligently in the mirror.
“Mmm. Then what? You’re always doin’ all of this fancy stuff to your face. Figure that's why your skin is so pretty.” He let his fingers fiddle with a few strands of hair.
“Thank you.” She said sheepishly, picking up a smaller tube. “Um, I use this undereye cream to help with puffiness and brightening. Its soothing. I apply it with the smallest finger though, because while I’m not afraid of wrinkles it’s the weakest fingers and the skin under your eyes is more delicate.”
Huh. “Didn’t know what.” He was actually learning something from this.
“Mhm. Why do you think I tell you to go gentle when you use the makeup remover?” A smile tilted up one side of her lips a bit further, eyes focused on the mirror in front of her. She pretended not to notice the slight shiver he gave her when he leaned down, letting his face get more level with hers- but he did. He noticed anything he could. “A-And then I use some vitamin C stuff for brightening, a serum and a cream. I use the little fan to make it dry faster so it isn’t sticky.” She pointed to the mini pink fan he’d always noticed. He’d just assumed it was for when she got hot. “Do you… Would you like me to use some of it on you when I’m done?”
She sounded hesitant to ask which he understood. Not a lot of the guys in their friend circle would want that, but he wasn’t that insecure about himself that he’d say no to someone pampering him. Especially not when it meant Y/N getting close to him. “Sure, sweets. I’d love that. Reckon my skin needs it.”
“What do you usually do with it?” She asked curiously, meeting his eye in the mirror.
“Makeup remover, wash my face, that cream you left at my place if I remember.”
“It’s not fair you have the skin you do.” She huffed, shaking her head. “Cruel, actually.” It kind of was. He got long lashes too, which she always complained about. “Go and wash your face first, heathen.”
Harry let out a small laugh before going off to do that. Returning with a fresh face, he stood in his prior position, watching her finish up the routine before holding the fan closer to her face to finish it off. It was an interesting process he hadn’t paid much mind to before, but then again, she didn’t bring every single thing to his place either.
After putting her hair up in a claw clip, she stood up from the plushy chair and motioned for him to sit down. He did as asked, feeling her residual warmth as she lined up the products for them. “Okay, so we start with the toner pad.” She gently pushed him to lean back in the chair, her face coming closer to his as she delicately swiped it over his cheeks and nose. He was getting an up close look at her, noticing the scar near her eyebrow and a few spots on her face. It made him warm up a bit, being able to see her so close when she was awake. Usually this level of observation was reserved for when she was asleep. “Oi, keep your head up.”
“Sorry.” He laughed, avoiding the impulse to move the chair back and forth. He liked to swing on it at times.
“Wait- how about this.” Without giving it much thought, she gripped the chair and swung it over to turn his body to the side, helping herself to straddle his lap. “This seems a little easier, no?” Fingers gently tipped his chin up, eyes focused on her motions.
Harry’s breath had disappeared. No longer available, he felt her sitting on top of his thighs, innocent as ever as she went through the motions. Tender with her movements and pressure, she was treating him like porcelain while giving him a little makeover. He should be focused on how nice the products felt on his skin, but his mind was elsewhere.
She smelled amazing, as usual, but having it this close up was a little hard for him. Yes, she sat on his lap before- but not in his shirt, with her thighs on display and tiny little shorts. She didn’t straddle him before either, didn’t let his mind wander to places it shouldn’t. All his energy was focused on trying to ensure she didn’t feel the stiffy that was quickly growing in his pants.
“I can’t believe how good you’re being for me, H.” She whispered. “No whining or anything.” Her smile was soft as she wiped the serum over his face. “You’re so pretty.”
Fuck. He swallowed thickly, trying desperately to not let his cock construe those words into the filthy praise kink he had, but it appeared to be a bit too late for that. She had no idea what she was doing to him and he didn’t want to be a perv, but god damn. If the girl continued, there would be no denying that he’d cream his damn pants. Being pet on, feeling her brush his hair off his forehead while she stroked his face and adjusted his position to where she wanted… He was only so strong. “Thanks.” He murmured, trying to keep his composure.
“Of course.” She beamed, seeming pleased. “I’m surprised you’re letting me do this, but you’re full of surprises.” It seemed like she didn’t know the battle he was facing internally, which was his goal, but that was soon to be ruined. “Hold on a second.” Shifting slightly on his lap, she stood up momentarily before sliding further up. “Sorry, I was falling down a bit-”
Harry hadn’t meant to, he really fucking didn’t. But she sat right on top of him, squirming a bit. Giving his dick a bit of friction, making his hands grip her hips and sit her down hard to stop the movement. He couldn’t open his eyes, couldn’t face her as he heard the hitch in her breath. “Fuck, I’m sorry. Sorry, I didn’t- I promise m’not being a creep or anything.” He winced. “Just been a while and uh-”
“Hey, it’s okay.” Her voice rang out, fingers brushing through his hair. “H, look at me. I’m not mad.” Of course, her words were sweet and syrupy, going right to his dick yet again. Y/N had no fucking idea how much she effected him, how many times he’d thought about her in this positon and how guilty he felt that he’d turned a sweet moment into something like this. “C’mon. You don’t need to be embarrassed.”
He took a moment before opening his eyes, looking at her face. Studying it, making sure she wasn’t uncomfortable. Her hand cupped the side of his face, a slight pout on her pretty lips. Y/N didn’t seem upset about it, seeing as she sat still and could most definitely feel his cock under her. He could feel her cunt over him, hot through the fabric and he was doing everything in his power to be fucking normal.
“There you are.” The tables had finally turned. Harry was the shy one in this moment and Y/N was the one seemingly not freaked out. “It’s a natural body function, H. I know you’re not some kind of perv. I sat on your lap, remember?” She soothed his nerves. “Besides, I’m flattered. Was beginning to think you thought I was some kind of troll or something.” The smile kicked up on her face, but his frown deepened.
“The fuck? Why would you think that?” Brows furrowed, he didn’t like that she thought he didn’t find her attractive. He called her pretty quite a bit.
“Well, I’m not your type. You go for all those tattooed girls with the bad ass attitudes, which is cool cause I think they’re hot too but… I’m all soft and squishy, y’know? I like the soft things, kinda the opposite of you so I just thought I wasn’t someone you’d be attracted to. M’nothing like what you go for.” She didn’t seem offended by this, rather stating it matter of fact- but Harry couldn’t believe how wrong she was. He had to wonder how long she thought this.
While he was secretly pining after her, she was thinking he was going off to get blowies by the girls that flirted with him which, sometimes he did. At the beginning of their friendship, he tried to stave off those feelings for her by getting someone else underneath him, fucking away the frustration but he learned fairly quickly that none of it did much when his mind was on someone else. It’d been months at this point. Sure, he liked a bit of flirting to boost his ego, but that was only when Y/N was preoccupied.
“Well, you’re wrong.” He said sternly. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Dunno where the troll idea came in when m’always staring at you.” He scoffed. “No more of that bullshit. Wouldn’t be hard if I didn’t think you were stunning. Trust me.” In fact, she was the only thing that got him hard these days. Thinking of her mouth, her thighs, her tits, her ass, anything. Even her hands, for fucks sake. “Don’t ever doubt how beautiful you are t’me. Pisses me off.”
“Sorry.” She bleated, pouting back at him. “I didn’t mean to. It’s just.. You call me pretty but I never would have thought you meant it like that. I like that you let me cuddle you and stuff so obviously I know you aren’t repulsed by me but, I dunno.” She swallowed, looking down at his bare chest. “I’m sorry for getting you… if you’re uncomfortable.”
God, he was mucking this up wasn’t he? He shook his head, letting his thumbs rub over her hips as he softened his face. “No, sweets. Don’t apologize. S’not a big deal, I’m not mad at you. Just don’t like the idea of you thinking poorly of yourself. You’re fucking stunning.” So stunning that his cock was still hard under her. “I’ll go take care of it when we’re done, but no more squirming. Okay?” Squeezing her, he tried to rectify the situation. “No more fussing.”
“But…” Y/N’s lips twisted slightly, sliding her hands down to his shoulders. “That’s not fair.”
Harry blinked a few times, looking her over hesitantly. “What d’you mean? I’m okay, pet.”
“Well, It’s my fault that you’re like this.” She protested. “I can fix it, if you want. Haven’t given too many blowies before, but I can take instruction pretty well.”
Harry truly thought he was dreaming for a moment, his face hot as she gave him an innocent look. Like she meant it, though it slightly embarrassed her for not having a lot of experience. But feeling her shift on him clued him back into reality. This was real. “You- You don’t have to do anything for me, Y/N.” He was holding on by a string. “You didn’t mean to do it. It’s not your responsibility to get me off just because my cock’s got a mind of his own.”
Y/N huffed again, shaking her head. “I want to. Can I?” Her face shifted slightly. “You’re not making me do anything. It would make me feel better If i could take care of you.” Her eyes met his. “I mean it. Promise.”
And god, if Harry was a stronger man he’d lift her off his lap and insist on taking care of it himself. He’d explain that it could make lines blurry and he liked her a bit more than a friend and they’d have that talk. But he wasn’t a stronger man, and she rolled her hips on him again with a hum, making his head fall back when she repeated the action. “Fuck.” He whispered under his breath. “As long as.. As long you’re sure. I don’t want you to regret it or anything.”
“I won’t.” She peeped. “I like making you feel good, Harry.” Her face seemed brighter as she watched him nod.
“Go on then, sweetheart.” He sighed. “I’ll show you what I like.”
Never in a million years had he expected her to be visibly excited, slipping off his lap and on to her knees in front of him. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Eyes looked up at him with curiosity, hands running over his thighs as she waited for direction. He’d dreamt of this so many times, stroked off in the bathroom to this very mental image to get his load out quicker. His cock pulsed inside his sweats. This was really happening. “M’not wearing briefs under these.” He warned, pushing the waistband down as he slowly tugged himself out of the pants. His hand was slightly shaky ass he gave himself a squeeze at the base, a soft hiss leaving his teeth when her hand covered his own.
“I’ve only done it a few times but…” Her eyes widened. “Yours is the prettiest I’ve seen.”
And fuck if that didn’t get him going. Harry took pride in his dick, as a lot of men did, but to get that compliment was better than anything else. His hair was normally trimmed shorter, but it had been a while. It was groomed a bit at the base, his happy trail leading up his stomach. “Thank you.” He mumbled, removing his hand and letting hers take over. Y/N was eager and that much was obvious, feeling her give him a few strokes as she shuffled closer in between his spread thighs. “I- I probably won’t last long. I wasn’t lying, it’s been a while.” And he’d imagined her in this position so many times that he was programmed to get off to it quickly.
“That’s okay. You’re quite big so it’ll be better for my jaw.” She giggled. Fucking giggled while her thumb rubbed over the slit, making him shudder. He’d always imagined she’d be much more shy in this situation, but again he was proven wrong. “What do you like?”
Honestly? He could cum just like this. Her stroking him slow, looking up at him with that pretty little face. Splatter her pretty face with pearly strings leaking from the slit of his cock, let it drip down her cheeks and chin. But she wouldn’t like that answer. “I’m okay with anything you give me, but I… I like to hear you.” He swallowed, a shaky exhale leaving his nose. “And uh, a bit wet. If that’s something you’d like.”
Y/N looked like she was taking note, nodding at his words. “I want to know what you like, m’okay with anything.” She smiled. “I knew you had to be big cause.. Y’know you’ve got the energy. And I’ve felt it a few times when we cuddle, before you wake up. It’s just different to see it.” Y/N leaned her head on his thigh, continuing to jerk him off. “I’ll probably choke a little bit, cause you’re the biggest I’ve taken. It’s okay though, I’ll be fine. I’ll pinch your tummy or somthin’ if I need a second to breathe.”
Who the fuck was she? Y/N had never, ever shown or hinted at being filthy in her life, but here she was. Talking about choking on his cock. He throbbed in her hand, making her eyebrows raise. “You liked that. Noted.” Leaning forward, she kept eye contact with him as she dragged her pink tongue from the base up to the tip, letting it sit there for a moment before she pulled away, giving him a few more strokes. “You can show me what you like too. Don’t be shy about it, H. I want you to feel good.”
Harry nearly lost it as he watched those gorgeous lips purse, spitting right over the tip. It slipped down his length before her hand caught it, stroking and spreading it over his cock. Filthy, filthy things filled his tongue immediately, but he tried to pace himself. “Fuck me…” He whispered, gently gathering her hair in his hand. “I didn’t know you had this in you, gorgeous.” It nearly bowled him over. “Can you.. Take it in your mouth. Suck the tip for me. I want to see that.”
Normally, he had no problem being a cocky, arrogant man. He was dominant most of the time with his hook ups- but Y/N wasn’t just a hook up to him. She was special. He didn’t want to do a single thing to potentially fuck this up. He wanted her to like this, to see how much he liked it too. She had no problems following instructions, the man watching as her lips stretched around the tip and dipped down a bit as she suckled on it. A soft hum left her mouth and vibrated over him as he curled the hair around his fist, making him groan. “Yeah, jus’ like that, angel. Fuck.” He kept his eyes on her as she bobbed shallowly, taking moments to rub her tongue over his leaking slit. “You’re so good, so sweet t’me. Can’t believe you’re doin’ this.”
Y/N pulled off the tip, lips wet as she peered up at him. “I’ve thought about it before.” She whispered, lapping over the side of his length. “Wanted to see your cock. I knew it’d be pretty.”
What the fuck? Harry’s brian felt fried, completely caught off guard by this information. Sure, he had thought maybe once or twice she was teasing him but it wasn’t often. Y/N was just so sugary sweet and kind, a slight air of innocence, and… Now she was telling him she’d thought about sucking him off before. “You have?”
“Mhm.” She stroked him a bit firmer, the slick sound of her hand around his wet cock getting louder. “I heard.. Heard rumors and felt left out. You like me the best but you never asked me to do anything.” Rubbing the tip over her pouted lips, Harry was shocked yet again.
“Cause y’mean more to me than any of the other people.” He swallowed. “Too fuckin’ sweet. I like you the best, you’re right but.. You’re my sweet girl. Didn’t want t’use you for anything like that. Would break my heart if I hurt you and you’d not want to see me again.”
“What if I wanted you to use me?” She asked, peering up at him with those eyes. They drove him absolutely mad. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me unless I asked, H. You’re so good to me… I just want to be good for you too.” Taking the tip back into her mouth, she pushed herself down further and he felt his stomach clench. It took him off guard, feeling the hot mouth take him down and bob herself against him, a soft hum vibrating over him.
“Oh- Fuck.” He let out a broken groan, leaning further back into the chair. “You are, baby, you fucking are. Hot little mouth… shit.” She whimpered around his cock at his words, sucking a little harder as her hand stroked the rest of him. She liked that. “What is it, hm? Like when I call you baby? When I tell you how perfect you are?” His words got a bit darker. He was slipping into another headspace and Y/N seemed to be coaxing it on.
She did a half ass nod, not pulling off his length as she continued. Harry wouldn’t have guessed in a million years that she’d be a greedy girl like this, but he was incredibly thankful that she was. “You are. Such a good girl, so gorgeous with your mouth stretched around my cock. Didn’t know you were gagging for it, baby. Should’ve told me.” He chuckled darkly. “Wouldn’t have wasted my loads in the shower before comin’ t’bed with you. Could’ve pushed into your needy mouth and let you swallow it down.”
Y/N moaned around his prick, eyes watering slightly as she looked at him. He’d never seen a better sight. “You’re so beautiful, angel. So pretty. Didn’t know such a filthy thing could have you lookin’ even more beautiful.” His throat felt thick as his cock throbbed in her mouth. “Fuck, you don’t even know how many times I’ve thought about it.”
Y/N pulled off, panting slightly as webs of saliva connected her mouth to his cock. “How much?” Her voice was a little hoarse, but he could hear that she was desperate to know. “You- You could have. I don’t want you to waste it anymore.” There was the tiny bit of shyness coming back in. “If umm, if you think I’m good enough at this. I’ll do it.”
“Fuck me, baby.” His thumb wiped over her spit soaked lips, breaking the threads of spit as he caressed her cheek. “All the fucking time. S’the only thing that gets me off.” Confessions he hadn’t thought he’d be saying so soon, let alone before he’d ever kissed her, spilled from him. “You’re doing amazing. More than good enough, too fucking good for me.” He couldn’t believe she was offering. “You sure you want t’be the one to take care of it?”
“Yes, I want it. I don’t want anyone else to do it.” She pleaded. “I’ll be the best for you. Just- you can tell me and I’ll suck you or, or anything you want.” Harry tested it, gently pushing her head back towards his prick- which she immediately took back in her mouth. The perfect, wet heat bringing him back to that filthy place in his head.
How could she think he could ever say no? She’d been his weakness since she brought him over that damn cupcake.
“Oh, sweet girl. Anything?” He cooed. “Dangerous thing to promise me. Don’t want anyone else to do it either.” His breathing was getting harder, trying not to thrust his hips up into her mouth and make her take it all. Sure, she’d probably do it, but he still felt the need to be delicate with her. “Take a little more for me, baby. Just like- there, there you go.” He praised, mouth falling open as she did exactly what he wanted. “Gonna make me cum.”
This felt a million times better than rubbing one out in her bathroom. His legs were near vibrating, the wet sound of her mouth taking him down and the clicks of her hand stroking his spit soaked cock filling her bedroom. This was the last thing he’d expected was her on her knees for him tonight and part of him wasn’t convinced it wasn’t a wet dream, but he was thanking whatever higher power that was up there that his sweet girl had a dirty side to her. One he wanted to be the only one privileged enough to see.
“In my mouth.” She gasped, pulling up for a moment. “Want to taste you. Please?”
How could he ever tell her no?
Pushing her back down on his cock, he let his hips rise up and shallowly thrust into her mouth as she moaned around him, drooling down her chin and letting him use her the way he needed to get off. The best part was knowing she was enjoying it so much. It was a miracle he’d lasted this long already, but he attributed that to shock. She was dirty, his sweet girl, choking slightly on his cock as the tip hit her throat, but she made no move to want to stop.
His last straw, though, was feeling her hand over his balls, whining around him as he let out his deepest groan yet. It was sloppy and messy and so fucking good that he felt lightheaded, tummy hot and legs weak as he felt himself approach his end. “Fuck, jus’ like that, your fucking mouth is perfect… fuck, fuck, fuck, baby- M’gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna-” His voice failed as his head fell back, lifting his hips as his cum began to pour into her mouth. Ribbon after ribbon coating her throat, pulling back a bit to get it on her tongue while she worked him through it.
He didn’t realize he had so much in him, but perhaps it was just Y/N that made him cum this much. This hard. His ears rung a bit, curses leaving his mouth as he watched her mouth open and hand stroke him to see the pearly mess on her tongue. At the last little bit,he used his grip on her hair to tug her up to his face.
“C’mere, sweet girl. Share with me, don’t be greedy.” holding her face while the other had her hair, he pulled back into his lap and her mouth to his and groaned as she licked over his tongue, sharing the remnants of his load with him. It was something a bit nasty and deprived, he knew, but Y/N merely moaned back, her clean hand curling around the back of his neck.
The kisses slowed from frantic and hot, to softer, slow and sweet. Pecking her lips over and over again, her whimpers melted into giggled as he untangled from her hair, sliding his hand under the shirt she had on to get some bare skin on his fingertips. “Sweetest thing, most beautiful girl.” He murmured between kisses. “Thank you. Best I’ve ever had.”
“You’re jus’ saying that.” She whispered, though the smile was difficult to wipe off her face. Obviously she liked praise just as much as him.
“Nope. Mean every word.” He confirmed, rubbing his nose over her cheek. “Thank you, baby. Felt so damn good, can’t feel my legs now.” Harry’d never felt like this after a blowie, both in his legs and the fondness he felt for the girl. If there had been any doubts about his feelings for her whatsoever, they were shattered. He was so far gone for her, it was pathetic.
“Good.” She smiled, feeling the kiss to his cheek. “I need to finish your skincare, though. So tuck yourself back in, cause m’gonna do that and then brush my teeth again. Though.. I can tell you’ve got a good diet. Tasted nice.”
Though Harry knew cum never really tasted good, he was chuffed that she hadn’t minded. Even more, that she hadn’t minded indulging in sharing with him. “M’not selfish, I need to help you too.” He reminded, though she merely shook her head.
“I’ll take a raincheck. M’so tired now, and I want to enjoy it fully.” Pecking his cheek in return, she picked up the moisturizer. “Think you need a lip mask too. Thankfully, you’re in the right hands.”
Harry was sometimes a selfish lover with hookups and he could admit that, but with Y/N he never wanted to be that way. He wanted to make her feel good, but he could wait. It only made him anticipate it more- there would be a next time.
“Okay, sweets.” He chuckled. “Do whatever you’d like.”
#jarofstyles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles one shot#harry styles fanfic#harry styles smut#harry writing#harry styles imagine#harry drabble#harry styles blurb#harry styles writing#harry smut#harry fluff#harry angst#harry styles au#harry styles fluff#harry styles oneshots#harry styles one shots#harry styles fanfictions
186 notes
·
View notes
Text
Maintenance Request Chapter 23
Joel Miller x f!reader | new chapter every Friday
18+ | ao3 | main post & chapter list
chapter word count: 2.7k
chapter summary: the end of the semester has arrived, so where does that leave our favorite couple? 💕
a/n: y'all, this is the last chapter. I honestly can't believe it. please send me an ask for the celebration of the end of the fic if you haven't, I would love to answer them -- I'm going to start posting those next week and after as we get to the epilogue. but send me as many as you'd like!
thank you to everyone who has read any part of this fic. if I think about this too much I get really emotional. I can't believe so many of you have stuck around all these week. thank you so much 🧡 and if you're finding this later, please tell me what you think. I will always want to know!
one more big thank you to @katareyoudrilling, who is an amazing beta and who helped make this fic so much better than the draft she saw the first time she read it. 🧡
chapter tags/warnings: construction noises (lol), HCG, reader can wink (author cannot), poetry, cuddling, pet names (darlin’, sweetheart, honey, baby), kissing, grinding, p-in-v sex, semi-public sex, so much fluff
Chapter 23
Friday, December 6
Last day of classes
You were walking back to your office from your last class of the semester, feeling the relief start to seep through you, when you heard the unmistakable sound of a jackhammer.
You’d know that sound anywhere.
Turning abruptly, you headed towards the source of the noise. You had a pretty good feeling you knew who might be overseeing whatever work was going on.
Sure enough, as you turned the corner to the future location of the new library, you caught sight of a familiar set of shoulders (and a familiar cocked hip). Joel had his back to you, arms crossed, and was dressed up in his Hot Construction Guy outfit. You grinned.
When you were about 10 feet behind him, you called out, “excuse me, how long will this noise go on for? Don’t you know classes are in session?” You tried to sound annoyed and tamp down on your grin as he spun to face you. You wanted to pretend to look serious, but he was already smiling at you. You smiled back.
“I thought classes ended fifteen minutes ago, darlin’.” He raised an eyebrow at you, grinning.
“Maybe so. You should really tell your boss to schedule these things better, you know.” You winked at him and he laughed.
“You reckon? You know, you aren’t the first person to say so.” Joel stepped closer to you and tucked his arm around your waist.
“No?” You smiled as he pulled you in.
He nodded, unable to hold back a laugh. “Some gorgeous professor who really hates me told me the same thing.”
You raised your hands to his shoulders. “She sounds like a real piece of work.”
He laughed and ducked down to press a soft kiss to your lips. You smiled into it and felt the stress of the last week of classes start to fall away from your shoulders. It was soft and comforting and warm, but it didn’t last long — a sharp whistle from the construction site interrupted you. As you broke apart you realized the jackhammer noise had stopped.
You looked up and were met with the eyes of the entire crew there at your end of the site. All of them were grinning at you. You felt your cheeks start to get warm.
“Slacking off again, boss?” One of them called, clearly teasing. The others laughed, and one made his way over to you as they got back to work.
“You must be the reason Miller here’s been in such a good mood lately.” The man was tall and dressed similarly to Joel. He nodded at you. “Jesse. Nice to meet you.”
You laughed a little and patted Joel on the shoulder as you introduced yourself. “Was he that much of a grump before?”
Joel groaned and rolled his eyes. Both of you grinned at him.
“Well, he definitely never got out of the office this much, before. He’s all over campus lately. For a while we thought he was checking on our work, hovering and sticking his nose in, until we figured out the real reason.” He winked at you. “And I caught him humming yesterday while he was doing paperwork.” Joel ran a hand over his eyes and sighed.
You laughed again. “You know I had no idea he was the boss, for a while.”
Jesse’s eyes lit up. “Seriously, Miller? You didn’t tell her?” He looked at Joel, starting to grin. “What, you didn’t want to brag or something?”
Joel sighed. “Look—“
You elbowed him and he grabbed your hand. “He thought I knew, but he was also afraid I’d find out and blame all the noise problems on him.”
Jesse laughed and Joel shook his head.
“Anyway, it was nice to meet you. I’ve got to head back to my office and finish up some stuff. Joel, I’ll see you soon?”
He nodded. “I’ll meet you there before we leave.”
You smiled – you were having dinner at his place tonight, and Sarah had planned something special to celebrate the end of the semester. You leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. “See you then. Bye, y’all!” You called your farewell to the crew and they all waved.
“Nice to meet you!” Jesse called back, and as you walked away you heard him tease Joel, “how’d you get so lucky, man?”
Joel’s gruff voice answered, “don’t know. Been thankin’ my lucky stars for it every damn day, though.” You smiled and decided you’d tell him later that you felt the exact same way.
…
Later that night, after you’d had the amazing dinner Sarah had come up with (with Tommy’s help), and after you’d spent some time just chatting with them around the table, she headed out for a sleepover and Tommy left to drop Sarah off and then meet a woman. (That’s all you knew about her. He was being oddly secretive, and Joel had been complaining about it for days. You didn’t even know her name.)
As twilight set in, you found yourself relaxing side by side with Joel on a padded lounge chair in his back garden. He’d finally given you a tour a few weeks back and you were starting to wish you could spend more time here. It was beautiful, and peaceful, and full of clever little nooks like this one to relax in. The paths were lined by tall bushes and wound around before opening up into a shady area at the very back. You were certain you still hadn’t seen all of it.
Joel had also finally admitted that he did used to have some of the plants that made you sneeze, but he’d uprooted them as best he could to gift them to a neighbor down the street. It sounded like it had gone pretty well, all things considered.
Technically the lounge chair was probably meant for one person, even though it was wider than most, but you’d squeezed in together. Joel was sprawled out and you were tucked into his right side with your arm across his chest, a light blanket thrown over both of you.
The semester was over and you were almost free, except for some grading. You were enjoying the quiet moment with him, enjoying the beauty of the work of his hands all around you, when he suddenly tensed.
“Joel? What is it?” You tilted your head to up to catch his eye and found him with a worried look on his face. You bit your lip.
He sighed. “I have a surprise for you.”
You sat up, leaving your hand on his chest. “A surprise? Why do you sound like that’s a bad thing?”
He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at you askance. “Well, let me just show you.” He sat up a bit and pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. You watched as he unfolded it slowly and carefully but didn’t catch a glimpse of any of the writing on it. You turned so you were sitting facing him and tucked the blanket around your shoulders.
Once you were settled he nodded to himself and reached out to take your hand. “Ok.” He took a visibly deep breath, and then he started reading, voice deep and warm.
“…you are
a concordance of person, number, voice,
and place, strawberries spread through your name
as if it were budding shrubs,”
At the first line he recited, you gasped and tightened your grip on his hand. You knew this poem. You’d read it before. He’d started somewhere in the middle, but you knew it, still. You felt your eyes start to tear up.
“how you remind me
of some spring, the waters as cool and clear
(late rain clings to your leaves, shaken by light wind),
which is where you occur in grassy moonlight:
and you are a lily, an aster, white trillium
or viburnum, by all rights mine, white star
in the meadow sky,”
You hadn’t memorized it, like Joel clearly had – he’d barely glanced at the paper in his hand, even closing his eyes after the first few lines. But he didn’t rush. His pace was slow and steady and sure. You watched his mouth form the shape of these beautiful words and you felt them wash over you and tug at something in the center of your chest.
“the snow still arriving
from its earthwards journeys, here where there is
no snow (I dreamed the snow was you,
when there was snow), you are my right,
have come to be my night (your body takes on
the dimensions of sleep, the shape of sleep
becomes you): and you fall from the sky
with several flowers, words spill from your mouth
in waves, your lips taste like the sea, salt-sweet (trees
and seas have flown away, I call it
loving you):”
You sucked in a sharp breath at that line as it sent a shiver down your spine. You remembered the ending and felt a tear slip down your face as you started to smile, helplessly.
“home is nowhere, therefore you,
a kind of dwell and welcome, song after all,
and free of any eden we can name”
When he finished, you squeezed his hand hard and his eyes flew open. He looked so nervous you could barely stand it.
“Joel!” You said his name forcefully, and he blinked. His hand came up to cup your cheek and he brushed his thumb gently under your eye.
“Shit, darlin’, I didn’t mean to make you cry. Was it bad?”
“Bad?!�� You reached up to hold his hand against your face and turned to kiss his palm once, twice, three times in quick succession. “Joel, that was beautiful. I— I had no idea you—“ you trailed off, tongue-tied. “I loved it.” You felt him thumb away another tear gently and smiled. “I loved it so much. Where did you read it?”
He was smiling at you now, clearly relieved. “In that book you loaned Sarah. She helped me. I’ll be honest, at first I just said I wanted a love poem and we found it because of the flowers.”
You grinned at him. “That’s a great way to find a poem, Joel. Through what you love.”
He nodded, looking sheepish. “Well, the first time I read it, I knew it was true. About you.” You tilted your head, wondering which part he meant. “You are those things, to me. Moonlight, and flowers, and everything else. And a home.”
You felt your tears start to well again as you nodded. “Joel, that’s beautiful. I love that poem. And I loved hearing you say it. I–” You closed your mouth abruptly. You’d almost continued I love you, but you were somehow still afraid. Maybe it was too soon. Even if you felt it, so much, more than ever in this moment.
He brushed his thumb across your cheekbone and smiled at you. “C’mere, sweetheart.” He pulled you forward and you fell into a kiss, crawling into his lap. You wanted to be close, as close to him as possible. He welcomed you and wrapped his arms around you.
You broke the kiss to press your forehead against his. You closed your eyes and spoke, unable to hold it in any longer. “Love is a place. A home. I’ve always believed that home can be a person, and love the home you make with them.”
You heard him whisper your name and smiled. You leaned back slightly to meet his eyes, and saw he had tears in his, too. You frowned. “Joel, are you–”
“I love you.” He interrupted you. His voice was deep and firm and it stole your breath away.
“Joel,” you breathed his name, eyes wide.
“I know it’s too early, sweetheart, but I do. I love you and I need you to know it. I want that with you. To build a home. To be each other’s home.” He lifted his right hand to cup your face again and your next intake of breath felt like a sob. “I want everything with you.”
You steadied yourself with your hands on his chest and searched for your words. “Joel, I love you, too. So freaking much.” You watched as his expression was transformed from nervous to delighted.
He grinned. “Say it again, honey.”
“I love you, Joel Miller.”
“And I love you.”
You cut him off before he could say your name, pushing forward into a hard kiss. He wrapped his arms around you again to pull you tight against him.
“How’d I get this lucky,” he murmured against your lips.
You smiled. “I heard you say that earlier. I think I’m the lucky one, you know.”
He shook his head. “No way, darlin’.”
You laughed and he buried his face in your shoulder. “Well, we can just be lucky together.”
He smiled against your neck and you felt him start to worry a new mark into your collarbone. You sighed and tangled your fingers through his hair.
“As long as we’re doin’ it together, honey, we can be whatever you like.” He nipped lightly at your neck and you shivered.
Joel leaned back and pulled you into another kiss. His hands slid down your back and grasped your hips. You gasped as he pulled you forward, grinding against you. You could feel his cock through both of your pants and you tried to widen your legs around his hips, tried to feel him where you wanted him most.
“Ever had sex out here?” Your voice was breathy as you asked and he hummed.
“Never.” His hands slipped forward around your waist and undid the button of your pants. “Was waitin’ for you.”
You laughed a little, charmed by the absurd idea. “You didn’t even know I existed when you grew this garden, Joel.”
“Hmm,” he mumbled, pushing your pants down over your hips. You shimmied out of them and came back to rest your naked pussy over his still-clothed cock, wrapping the blanket around your shoulders. You rocked forward and sighed happily when he spoke. “I was still missin’ you, baby. Was lookin’ for you. Just didn’t know it yet.”
Your heart swelled and you swallowed against the sudden tightness in your throat. “I was looking for you too, Joel.” You reached down to undo his pants and quickly pulled his cock free. He was devastatingly hard.
“‘M so happy I found you, sweetheart.” He tugged your hips forward and up, notching the tip of his cock right at your entrance. “I love you.” He murmured it right against your lips as he pulled you downwards, as you sank down steadily on his cock.
You moaned as you came to rest against his hips. The way he filled you was perfect, every single time.
“I love you so much, Joel Miller,” you almost sobbed his name as he urged you with his hands to begin moving. You rocked your hips against his and he leaned forward to rest your foreheads together. You could feel his breath against your lips and it was suddenly the most intimate thing you’d ever done, moving together like that, so close, so connected. It felt like every part of you was touching every part of him, like something inside of you had reached out and latched onto him and wouldn’t let go.
He whispered your name again and you shivered. “I love having you here.”
“Here?” You smirked and twisted your hips and reveled in his moan.
“Here in my lap – yes. Always.” He pressed a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You look so good sitting on this cock, honey. Was made for you.”
You moaned at his words and rocked your hips forward.
“Goddamn,” he breathed. “Yes. But I meant, I want you here all the time, honey. I was going to wait, shit–” he cut off abruptly when you ground your hips downward against him. “But please, baby, say you’ll move in. Come live with us.” You gasped. “Make this your home.”
There was a feeling rising up in you that was so huge, so overwhelming, you didn’t know what would happen when it spilled out. It felt like happiness and love and everything you felt every time you locked eyes with this man, every time he looked at you.
“Yes, Joel.” He shuddered. “Not today,” you laughed and he joined you, rueful. “But yes. I want to make a home with you.”
He groaned as he thrust into you again, and you wrapped yourself around him and let the joy take over.
...
a/n: 😭 please let me know what you think. I love all of you and I'll see you next week for the epilogue. in the meantime please send me as many celebration asks as you'd like.
The poem featured in part in this chapter is "You, Therefore," written by Reginald Shepherd for his partner, Robert Philen. Please go read it. Shepherd wrote it knowing he was dying and that his partner would outlive him (and Philen did, in fact) and it's one of the most beautiful things I've ever read.
prev | next
tag list: @harriedandharassed @jupiter-soups @ilovepedro @auteurdelabre @anoverwhelmingdin
@myloveistoolittle @iknowisoundcrazy @beezusvreeland @screechingphantommaker @bigboiseason123
@joelalorian @untamedheart81 @ashleyfilm @jessthebaker @jeewrites
@fluffygoffpanda @paleidiot @mithicakurogo @theclairvoyage @lizzie-cakes
@islacharlotte @syd-djarin @copperhalfcent @vabeachazn @spacedoutdaydreamer
@littlevenicebitch69 @secretelephanttattoo @pigeonmama @vickie5446
@glizzymcguirex @verymiraclemiracle @friskispunk
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#tlou fic#maintenance request fic#JHCGBDM#x reader
86 notes
·
View notes
Note
For IAU requests… anything Four related? Sorry if that’s too vague lol
Don’t worry about it anon, being vague is fine! Precise prompts are fun too, but having some more vague ones adds some nice variety. And gives me the freedom to do stuff like this, hehe.
(Set when they’re all a little older. Four is somewhere in his early teens).
————————————————————
“Hey, um... Link?”
Four startled, nearly banging his head against that of the girl leaning over him. She jumped back, and Four blinked a few times, trying to focus on her face. Freckles swam into view, and Four finally recognized the girl as his friend Dot.
Friend, despite how his brothers tried to tease.
“Ah, sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you,” Dot apologized, and Four waved her off, yawning.
“‘S okay,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “Did you need something?”
Dot hesitated, something odd shining in her eyes. “You um, really seem tired today, Link. Are you all right?”
No. “Yeah.”
Dot studied him a second, then leaned down, and lowered her voice so the other kids couldn’t hear her as easily.
“I... I heard your brother was in the hospital.”
Four swallowed as the familiar ache in his chest came back, and he looked at his desk as he nodded.
“I’m really sorry,” Dot continued, her voice soft. “Is there anything I can do?”
“No,” Four mumbled, not wanting to think about Twilight, still struggling to recover after a hit from a mysterious weapon had nearly killed him. Hyrule’s powers had had almost no effect on his injury, and they’d exhausted every option they had. And though Twilight was finally no longer on death’s doorstep, he still wasn’t healing like he should be.
He could easily slip back to a dangerous level, and if that happened again he might not have the strength to pull through this time.
“...Link?”
Four swallowed. “Sorry. Thanks though. Appreciate it.”
Dot hesitated, but nodded, and patted his shoulder as the bell rang, signaling the start of class. She sat in the desk next to him like she always did, and poked his arm whenever he started to drift off, giving him a light shake when that wasn’t enough.
The school day dragged on, and dragged him with it, Four fumbling his way through his classes. Dot stayed at his side for all of them that she could, and the part of him that was awake enough to notice was grateful for it.
He’d barely slept the past few days, his emotions were a wreck, and on top of all that he’d had a nasty argument with Wild last night.
“He doesn’t need this right now!”
Four swallowed. All he really wanted to do was go back to the hospital and sit with Twilight, but instead he was stuck in school, currently learning about some math formula while his and Wild’s angry words rang in his head, along with the noise Twilight had made when he’d been hit and Four couldn’t stop thinking about how still he’d gone after he’d fallen—
“Mr. Forester, I asked you a question.”
Four blinked, and realized his math teacher had come up to his desk, arms crossed as her foot tapped on the floor. The classroom was quiet, and Four swallowed when he noticed everyone was looking at him.
“Mr. Forester?” the teacher reminded sternly, and Four swallowed.
“I’m... could you repeat that, please?” he stammered, and she sighed.
“I asked if you knew how to solve the problem,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “And I would appreciate an answer sometime this year.”
A few of his classmates tittered, and Four blinked the exhaustion out of his eyes, trying to remember if he’d actually heard her say the problem or not. His cluttered brain couldn’t focus though, too many thoughts and feelings clogging his usually sharp brain. The writing on the board blurred, and Four swallowed, looking at his desk.
He had no clue what he was supposed to be solving.
“I... n-no. I’m sorry,” he whispered, and to his horror, his eyes began to water.
His teacher sighed, and went back to the front of the class. “Disappointing, Mr. Forester. I expect more from you. Can anyone else tell me how to work these equations? Miss Castor?”
Someone else spoke up, but the words just buzzed in Four’s head, his throat tight as he stared at his desk.
His brother could be dying right now, and he was wasting his time sitting in a math class.
Four bit his lip as it trembled, flipping up the hood of his jacket. The argument with Wild wouldn’t stop replaying through his mind, the way he’d yelled and how Four had yelled back, and how he’d split in the middle of it and said things he knew he’d regret, but they’d felt so good leaving his mouth, and the way Wild’s face had looked so miserable as he’d run away, and how his father had just looked resigned to the fact that they were going to lose Twilight—
A hand squeezed his arm, and Four looked through his hair at Dot, her face sharply worried now. He swallowed rather thickly, and Dot suddenly raised her hand.
“Yes, Miss Gustafson?” their teacher asked as she turned around, and Dot stood from her desk.
“I think I need to take Link to the nurse,” she said firmly, hand still holding Four’s arm. “He hasn’t been feeling well all day, you can see for yourself he’s pale.”
“Are you certain?” their teacher asked, and Dot nodded, unwavering. Their teacher thought for a moment, tapping a finger on her desk. “Hmm. I suppose he has been acting unusual today... that would certainly explain some things. You may escort him.”
“Thank you,” Dot said with a nod, and she pulled Four out of his desk and out of the classroom before he could blink.
They didn’t go to the nurse’s office though, rather Dot pulled him to a small spot behind the stairs, one so small only a few kids could actually fit back here. Four and Dot fit fine though, and she tugged Four down to sit, rifling in her bag.
“Okay, go ahead,” she said, pulling something out.
“Go ahead?” Four asked, barely stopping his voice from wobbling.
“Go ahead. Cry. You were on the verge of breaking down in there, you’ve got to let some of it out or there’s no way you’re making it through any more classes today,” Dot said matter-of-factly. She held up a small packet of tissues. “So cry, please.”
Four let out a hollow laugh. “I’m not going to just start crying because you told me to, Dot.”
“It’ll help, trust me,” Dot urged, and her voice softened. “It’s okay to be upset, Link. Anyone would be with what you’ve got going on. Just cry for a bit, and then we can go back. We don’t even have to go to the nurse if you don’t want to.”
Four laughed again, but the sound was watery. “Dot, just because Tw-Twilight is in the, the hospital, doesn’t m-mean, I...”
For some reason saying it out loud made it all crash down on him, and Four’s voice broke.
He tried to keep talking, but his breath hitched, and suddenly he was crying instead, a sob hiccuping from his throat. Dot stayed quiet as she set a hand on his shoulder, and Four felt tears begin to drip down his cheeks.
She rubbed it a little bit, and Four hiccuped again, wishing in the back of his mind that he could split. Then only a fourth of him would be sobbing his eyes out in front of Dot, and this would be a little less embarrassing.
But his powers were secret, and supposed to stay that way. So Four continued to cry, Dot scooting over to sit more closely beside him, her hand warm on his shoulder.
He didn’t know how long they sat there, Dot patting his shoulder while he cried his eyes out, but it was long enough that he was sure their teacher would be suspicious.
“Y-you should go back,” Four finally said, shakily wiping his eyes on his sleeve. “You’ll be missed.”
“Oh don’t worry about that, I can just say you threw up on me and I had to clean myself up,” she shrugged, offering him a tissue. Four let out a watery snort, but took it, shakily blowing his nose. “Or that the nurse wanted to make sure you hadn’t infected me. Ooh, or maybe you were so delirious you begged me to stay at your side, and I was forced to forgo math in order to stop your feverish ramblings.”
“No way that would work as an excuse,” Four said, his voice still wobbling.
“It might, you never know.”
Four fondly shook his head, then sighed, feeling drained from all the crying he’d just done. He didn’t feel... better, exactly, but he felt less overwhelmed by it all. His head felt less cluttered at least, and he gave Dot a grateful look.
“Thanks Dot,” he said quietly, and she nodded, then gave him a quick hug.
“Of course. If you need to talk, or just... anything else, just ask, okay?”
Four nodded, and hugged her back. “Okay.”
They sat under the stairs a little while longer, trying to make Four look like he hadn’t spent the last half hour crying, and then Dot pulled him to his feet, and they went to the nurse’s office together. They at least needed an alibi for being gone so long, and it would be suspicious if Four was never seen going to the nurse. Even if he only felt sick because of worry.
Four sighed as they walked down the hallways, and Dot squeezed his hand, giving him a little smile. He somewhat succeeded in returning it, and his thoughts drifted back to Wild, and their argument.
As soon as he made it through the rest of the school day, he’d... try and talk to him. He owed Wild that much at least.
And... Twilight would want him to try.
#IAU sunset arc babey#linkeduniverse#linked universe#incredibles au#Incredibles au fic#lu four#lu Dot#answers from the floor#anon#fic#writing from the floor#twilight’s fine obviously but it sure sends his family into a tizzy#it’s fun figuring out how things would change for this au#fun times. hehe.
68 notes
·
View notes
Text
The T.A.
Synopsis. You’ve had the biggest crush on your ex TA for the longest. Hell the whole biology department had a crush on him.
Paring. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, chubby!reader, black!reader, semi-exhibitionism(?), oral (female), satoru NEEDS you, swearing, biology terminology, college, TA!Gojo, squirting, insecure!reader
Word Count. 4.0k
A/N. hiii, this is the first thing i’ve written in YEARS (also first tumblr post on this acc omg). this may or may not be based on dream i had about my beautiful ta in gen micro. (shout out you king)
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
The day had been like any other. Busy.
You were in your senior year of college and working part-time on campus. The door to the biology building swings open as you saunter inside.
You walk towards your class on the basement floor of Creeland Hall. The white walls around you give you a feeling of being in a prison. However, you pick up your pace as today is a lab day and your class would take place in the laboratory classroom, instead of the usual lecture hall.
“Let's just hop on the elevator and get this over with.” you groan inwardly as you pass the TA office.
You peek inside for the white head of hair that you wanted to see. Satoru. The most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes on. He was your TA last semester for your Microbiology class, and god was he gorgeous. He was so fucking gorgeous, any glance at him was a blessing in your eyes but alas, he was not there. You pass the office quickly, remembering the task at hand as you head to class. Thankfully, you arrive just in time to flash your TA, Suguru, a smile. You sit begrudgingly through class, the only thing on your mind being a nap. A knock at the door snatches the attention of the class. You look up to see none other than Satoru.
Today he wore a satin black button-down and black pants. His usual gold chain clung to his neck and I noticed he had a new pair of diamond studs. He also had his rings on. Whew.
“Hey, Dr. Fushiguro wanted me to bring these samples to you. He said you might need them.“ He’s holding a box, most likely filled with the samples we’re supposed to look at today.
“You can sit it right there,” Suguru says, as he points to the space in front of you. Satoru gently sets the box down and flashes a smile. “How are you?
“I’m good, and you?” you say, trying not to shit yourself.
“I'm good, thanks for asking.” He turns and leaves but not without flashing Suguru a dimpled smile.
A sigh escapes you, had you been holding your breath? Suguru continues his lecture, but incessant thoughts drown it out. Why do you always react like this around him? He’s just a guy. A hot guy, but just a guy. Satoru is just that. Satoru. The same guy that your roommate is friends with. The same guy who was your TA last semester. The same guy that collected a dung sample from a random pile of shit in front of Creeland Hall. Why does he make you so nervous?
You are reminded of your roommate, Shoko, teasing you about Satoru. “Just admit you have a crush on him. I can invite him over if you want,” Shoko had once said.
Heat rushes to your face remembering how embarrassed you were that Shoko had picked up on it. Was it really that obvious? You always clam up in front of him, plus it’s not like you ever spoke to him outside of class or if Shoko wasn’t there.
You tune back into the lecture as Suguru abandons his spot at the front of the lab for the one in front of you. He shifts through the box, pulling out various bottles of different samples and also keys in the process.
“Those do not belong there. Hey y/n, can you run these down to Satoru? He’s not going anywhere without these.”
You jump up before he can even utter the first syllable of Satoru’s name. “Of course.”
You take the keys and head for the stairs. Suguru and Satoru both worked in Dr. Fushiguro’s lab. His lab was the last door on the hall on the basement floor. As you skip down the stairs, you feel the nerves creep up. You have to give Satoru his keys.
You have to give Satoru his keys. Gojo Satoru.
Shit.
Okay, calm down. This is a perfectly normal thing you remind yourself. Let's not make this weird and creep the poor guy out. The door to the lab is now in sight so you knock twice. There is no answer. The TAs like hanging out in the TA lounge, so maybe he’s there. You turn to head to the lounge and the door is still open. You see him at his desk playing with a yoyo. Sitting there in his full glory. He’s also the only one in there. You lightly knock at the door so that he isn’t startled by you.
Satoru turns to you, as you hold up his keys above your head and dangle them, “This is one sample you might want to keep.”
His deep chuckle permeates the room. “Definitely.” He stands from his desk and stalks towards you. His hand reaches for the keys and before he grabs them they slip from your fingers.
“Oops, sorry. Let me get that.” You stumble out, any confidence in the conversation now being replaced with pure and unbridled nervousness.
“You don’t have to.” He says at the same time as your apology.
You both bend down and reach for the keys, foreheads knocking. “Ouch,” you say as you reach up to rub your forehead.
Satoru grabs the keys and places a hand on his head as well. “Damn, you have one hard-ass forehead.”
You let out a laugh, as he offers his hand to help you up. Your hands touch and it’s as if raw static shot up your arm. His hands are cold to the touch, the opposite of what you were expecting. This close to him, you can see how perfectly trimmed his nails are.
“I’m sorry about that,” you say to him.
“No worries.” He says with a smile.
As you turn to leave, he clears his throat. “Wait before you go, can you take one more sample up? I forgot to stick it in the box. It’s down the hall in the lab. If you can follow me, I’ll give it to you.”
“Yeah, sure,” you reply.
Satoru leads the way to the lab, and unlocks the door. The ethanol smell hits your nose immediately.
“Just give me a second. It’s in the freezer so it’s gonna have to unthaw. The water concentration isn’t very high so it should only be about five minutes. Suguru will understand.” He says as he walks to the large freezer.
You simply nod.
“You’re not all that talkative are you?” He asks.
You can feel your skin. This was so nerve-wracking. How were you to hold a conversation with him? You feel a nervous smile play on your lips as you shake your head.
“With the way Shoko talked about you, I thought you were completely unhinged. Plus, you were always so lively in the lab last semester.” His eyes gleamed with something that could not be deciphered.
“I didn’t know you were paying me any attention in the lab,” you laugh. “Also, Shoko is not to be trusted. She thinks me going to bed anytime after 10 p.m. is unhinged.”
Satoru lets out a laugh as he places the sample on the table. You stand on the other side of the table as the sample to defrost. His blue eyes lock onto yours and the corner of lips upturn; his dimple starts to peak out.
You search his face, never having been this close to him before. He truly was a sight to behold. His white-hair fell perfectly in place. He definitely uses cocoa butter, you still felt the traces of his fingers on your skin from having briefly brushed against him earlier. This man cannot be real.
“She thinks highly of you though. Says she wouldn’t want to be roommates with anyone else.” Satoru says ripping you out of your conspiracy.
“I would sure hope so,” you say.
A comfortable silence washes over the room as the sample thaws. Satoru’s fingers drums rhythmically on the table.
“Do you play?” you ask.
“Hmm?”
“The drums, do you play them? You were sounding kind of good.”
He smiles and nods. “I do. Also thanks, I just picked it up recently so it’s all still new to me.”
“Yeah, you sound really good,” you reassure him.
Satoru’s eyes dart from yours down to your lips quickly. If you hadn’t been watching him so intensely you would not have noticed it.
“Thanks.” He huskily answers.
The resonance of his voice sent shivers through your being. This man just radiated sex appeal. His eyes shift further down when he notices your continuous shifting.
“You okay?” He asks.
You nod, “Just caught a chill.”
You peek at the sample laying on the table between you. It had only just started to thaw out. A large portion of it still icy. The two minutes you had been in the room with him had felt like two hours. He clears his throat, and your eyes dart back to his.
“Can I ask you something?” He asks.
You nod.
“What made you think I didn’t pay any attention to you in the lab?” Satoru asks, referring back to earlier.
He is now fully leaning on the table. You take note of how he towers over you, having to tilt his head down to meet your eyes.
God, this man is so fucking fine. You clear your throat feeling a lump start to form from the way he had been looking at you.
“No reason in particular, it makes it easier for me if I assume people aren’t perceiving me. Brings me some peace of mind, you know?” you say to him.
He nods and cocks his head to the side, still maintaining eye contact with you. His eyes rake over your body, and you feel yourself start to become more self-aware. You can feel yourself swallow as Satoru’s eyes meet yours again.
“You don’t want me to perceive you.” He states as if he was confirming what you had just said.
He moves around the table and stalks back toward the door. “Forgot to lock it.”
Satoru then walks toward you to stand in front of you, the table no longer a barrier between the two of you.
“Well, despite your belief, I did pay attention to you. Shoko mentioned to me that you were super clumsy and always dropped stuff.” Your heart halted. “ I couldn’t have you dropping vials of Staphylococcus everywhere. The paperwork would be terrible.” Satoru says jokingly.
You let out a breathy laugh, “I told you. You can’t believe what Shoko says.”
Satoru chuckles and takes a step forward, now entering your bubble. He was now maybe two arm's length from you.
“You know, Shoko also said something else. I wanted to get your input on that as well. She may be a pathological liar it seems though.” He says. Satoru’s eyes steadily hold yours, and you feel your resolve slipping further away.
“Yeah? What was that?” You ask him.
“She said, and I quote, ‘Satoru, I don't know what kind of spell you cast on my roommate, but undo it. You will not sully her.’ He imitates Shoko’s voice. Had it not been for the words that came out of his mouth it would’ve been spot on.
“Was that a Shoko lie as well?” Satoru asks . He takes another step toward you.
You take a step back bumping into the table behind you. You let out nervous little chuckles. “I’m not quite sure why she would say that?”
The palms of your hands start to sweat and you have nowhere to go. You slide to the right in an attempt to go around him and make a beeline for the door, but he notices and blocks you. You slide to the left, as does he.
“Satoru please, this is extremely embarrassing and I would like to leave. I’m sorry if I did anything to make you uncomfortable. It was never my intention.” You say as you feel pricks in your eyes.
“There is nothing to be embarrassed about. After the trouble I went through to get you here, I would appreciate an answer.” He says.
You look up at him. He notices the tears in your eyes and closes the gap between the two of you, placing both of his hands on either side of you on to the table, caging you in. “Aw, I didn’t want to make you cry like this.” He says.
Satoru takes your face in one his hands, swiping away the one tear that did manage to fall.
“What do you mean by ‘after all you went through’,” you ask out loud.
Satoru only grins at you and leans down. He looks at your lips and back up to your eyes, searching for objections. His lips touch yours tentatively. The kiss happens so quick, his lips are soft. You hold your breath and your hands up out of surprise. Satoru pulls away and puts his forehead against yours.
“I’ve had the biggest crush on you ever since I saw you slip on that piece of paper in the lab last semester.” He says.
Your mouth falls open. “What! Satoru, that was the first day of class! I was running late and I had on -”
“A Kirby shirt with the biggest pair of sweatpants I had ever laid eyes on. Trust me, I vividly remember it. Shoko had been telling me she wanted us to meet forever ago. She said we would be best friends, so I was already excited to meet you.” His hand travels from your face, and he takes each of your hands into his own. “I thought you had dropped the class because of how late you were. So imagine my surprise when you waltz in an hour later, only to slip on a piece of paper and almost take out the professor in the process. How could I not have been head over heels for you then and there?”
You laugh as you recall your first day of class.
“It was torture to be your TA. I knew I wouldn’t be able to say anything while you were still my student. Since you’re graduating next month, and I am no longer your TA, I figured now was as good a time as any.” Satoru says.
“I didn’t think you would see me in that light. You’re so-”
“If you’re going to say anything self-deprecating, I will be forced to do less than kind things to you.” He cuts you off jokingly, but you could tell he was slightly serious.
Satoru’s hands drop yours as he opts to place his hands on your hips now. He pulls you closer, as his lips catch yours yet again. You feel his tongue swipe against your lip, and you let him deepen the kiss. He’s so close. His chest is pressed against yours now as you start to feel light-headed, not from the lack of oxygen, but simply from how intoxicating he was. Satoru was everywhere. His smell, his hands, his mouth. The scent of his cologne surrounded you, and you could feel him rubbing circles on your hips through your clothing.
It wasn’t enough.
Satoru groans into your mouth, and pulls away. You see him bend to pick you up. “Stop, don’t pick me up, I may be too heavy. I can just hop up there,” you say embarrassingly.
“y/n,” he panned.
You draw your lips into a tight-lipped smile as you stand your ground. “Satoru , I’m serious. We should stop anyway, we’re in Dr. Fushiguro’s lab. I need to get back to class anyway. Can I come find you after class?”
Satoru hardly tries to hide his displeasure as he shakes his head. “See, that won’t do.” He picks you up anyway and sets you on the table, moving the sample over in the process. Before you can even complain, his lips are back on yours. His hands are on your thighs and he parts them to step in between your legs. This kiss is different from the other two. It’s almost as if he’s devouring you. It’s so needy, sloppy even. Spit is running down your jaw as his hand comes up to your throat. He lightly grips you and pulls you even closer.
“Baby,” he moans.“You are divine.”
His lips pepper a few kisses down your neck, and you shudder. Satoru knows the effect he has on you. The dimple peeking out is a clear indication of that. With his free hand, he unbuttons your shorts.
“Is this okay?” he asks. You nod hurriedly, all previous hesitancy thrown out the window.
He drops his head to your shoulder, both of his hands now supporting his weight as he leans on the table. Satoru presses his hips to yours and you feel his bulge against your pussy. He was so hard. A soft whimper leaves his lips as he presses against you harder. You can feel the warm puffs of air as he heaves into your neck.
Satoru grinds against you eliciting a moan from you. Seeing just how much he wanted you was a turn on in itself. He lifts his head to see you, “God, you even sound so beautiful. If we do this, you know you’re not leaving right mama? I’m not going to be able to let you go.”
You sit up and reach out to palm his bulge. Satoru’s eyes widened, surprised at the sudden movement. Your other hand reaches out to grab one of Satoru’s; you place it on one of your breasts. His palm squeezes you slightly, your pleasure visually apparent.
“I want you, Satoru.”
His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “I really do, but we cannot have sex in this lab.” Satoru sighs. All the tension gone from his shoulders as he hangs his head low.
“Why would you work me up like that? You are so mean.” He whines.
Satoru looks up at you, pupils blown in his blue eyes. He brings his mouth to your ear. “Can I at least eat you out? I can’t let you leave like this baby. You won’t be able to focus during class. I bet you’re soaked through your panties.”
His hands are on your unbuttoned shorts in an instant. Fingers slowly working the zipper down as he holds eye contact. You feel the cold tips of his finger as he dips them in your panties. They trace the slit of your pussy.
“Open wider for me baby, don’t go shy on me now.” He says.
You open your legs wider granting him access. His cold fingertips immediately find your clit to rub circles on the sensitive bud. Your legs jolt at the sudden stimulation. Satoru chuckles as he finds out just how wet you are for him. Fingers sliding from your panties with ease. His hand now in between the two of you, and your wetness all over his fingers. The light above you makes them glisten.
He takes two of the digits into his mouth, licking them clean as he watches your mouth fall open and your chest heave from the sight of him.
“Mmh, you’re so good for me. I told you, you’re so soaked. Let’s slide these off, yeah?” He points to your shorts.
You reach for them and slide them down. Lust ridden, Satoru watches in awe. He bends to take from around your legs and places them on the table behind you. You inwardly pat yourself on the back for wearing decent underwear today. They were red and lace. A perfect combination against your darker skin tone.
He swipes his hands down his face as he groans. Satoru falls to his knees and scoots you closer to the end of the table. “Put that leg up there.” He commands, eyes never leaving the wet spot on your panties. You didn’t know if you should be scared or turned on more (if that was even possible).
Heat rushes over your body as reality sets in.. You’re not used to being exposed like this. Your eyes meet his as you look down at him. He’s watching you as if you’ve hung the moon and the stars. His eyes flicker down to your panty-clad pussy, and he wastes no time.
Satoru’s mouth is finally on you and his tongue is teasing you through your panties. Your head falls back and your mouth falls open. You try your best to stay quiet, biting your lips in your best efforts. Both of your labored breaths are heard throughout the lab. Satoru pinches your inner thigh and you squeal.
“If you stop watching me, I will stop,” He says. “I want you to see just what you do to me.”
You nod your head, and your eyes are back on the man below you. He moves your panties to the side and licks at your slit. He groans as he tastes you for the first time. Satoru’s tongue works you open quickly, and you’re a moaning mess as you rock into his face. His tongue quickly finds your clit, and he focuses on the bud. The sight of his face buried deep in your cunt and the lewd noises coming from you both, makes you clench around nothing. Your hips stutter against his face as the vibrations of his groans provide an extra source of stimulation.
“Please,” you beg, not knowing for what.
Satoru is just as needy if not more, wanting nothing more than to have you come undone all because of him. “I got you mama.”
His mouth is back on you. He ignores your clit and starts to fuck you open on his tongue. “Oh my god, don’t stop, Satoru please don’t stop,” you moan out.
Your moans are low and breathy due to you trying to stay quiet. Satoru’s nose nudges against your clit, and one of your hands reaches out to grab his head. You nearly topple over at the combined simulation. He’s working you open bit by bit, savoring every last drop of your juices. He absolutely cannot get enough. You got the sense that this man truly felt his whole life had led to this moment with you. He was not going to disappoint.
Satoru pulls back and blows on your clit. Your legs are shaking at this point from the abuse to your pussy. He places a few kisses on your tummy before he looks up at you. His hands now replacing his mouth.
As he rubs slow circles on your clit he says, “Please baby. Can you kiss me? I need you to kiss me.”
He looks so wrecked; pupils blown, cheeks flushed, and your slick all over his chin, you have no choice but to give him everything he wants. As his fingers reach that sweet spot inside you, you moan into his mouth. He bullies your pussy, and it’s all you could have ever dreamed of. “I’m g-gonna cum,” you tell him.
The heat building in the pit of your stomach. The muscles in your thighs tighten up as he deepens the kiss and fucks your pussy with his fingers. You taste yourself on his lips as he slips his tongue into your mouth. The combination of his lips on yours, and him fucking agasint your g-spot, has your legs jerking. It’s the only warning Satoru gets before you’re squirting on his fingers and shirt.
“F-fuck, let it out for me, ride my fingers, baby,” he moans into your mouth.
Your head lolls to the side as you ride his fingers through your orgasm. Hips stuttering from the hypersensitivity of your pussy. “T-too much, too much,” you tell him as his thumb continued to abuse your clit.
He slides his fingers out and they’re slick with your traces all over them. Satoru takes his fingers and places them into his mouth, eyes on yours while he sucks the rest of you off, reminiscent of earlier. You reach to grab his wrist to move his hand towards your mouth. You place your lips around his fingers, lapping up whatever he missed. His mouth falls open and you notice his chest heaves.
“I think that sample can wait.”
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
teehee
#gojo x plus size reader#gojo satoru#gojo x black y/n#gojo x reader#gojo x y/n#18+ only#18+ mdni#jjk smut#jjk x reader
99 notes
·
View notes
Note
more joao felix pleasee 😔😔💞💞 ur girl is desperate
study buddy ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚✐~
pairing: joao felix x reader
summary: during finals weeks, you find yourself struggling with the work load and stress of exams - good thing your boyfriend is the perfect study buddy!
warnings: none!
w/c: 883
a/n: a little ironic that i'm procrastinating my final assignments by writing this but its motivaiton for myself okay!!! anyways hope you like this thank u sm for ur request <333
“Joao,”
“Hm?”
“Stop staring at me and focus, you have an exam to study for.”
You watched your boyfriend straighten up at your words, but not without a sly smirk spreading across his face at having been caught in the act of admiring you. Admittedly, it wasn’t something you weren’t used to by now - but it just wasn’t the time. Maybe if you were less stressed about the mountain of work and studying you had to do you might’ve even entertained him, but even so, your university library was no place for such things.
“I can’t help it, you’re distracting me,” he mumbled, turning back to the several open textbooks he had laid out in front of him - likely in an attempt to look like he was doing work. This elicited a small, shy chuckle from you, even though you were trying your best to maintain your firm demeanour.
“Well, you’re lucky anyways,” you hummed, “you’ll ace your exams no matter what. I, on the other hand, am practically screwed for this final.”
Now it was his turn to laugh, “You can’t be serious baby.” You turned to give him a look that made it clear you were as serious as you could get.
“You’ll be fine, you worry too much,” he sighed, scooting his chair a little closer.
“Easy for you to say,” you grumbled, gripping the pen in your hand even tighter as you worked on your notes.
It had become sort of a routine for the two of you ever since the semester started, these study dates. Whoever’s class finished first would rush off to secure a seat, your favourite being a pair of desks tucked away in some far corner of the massive library, in between tall shelves of books that hadn’t been touched in decades. Sure, you would muck around a little bit before hand - Joao always insisted on being your personal escort once your class finished, and somehow the two of you always ended up in a cafe on your way for a little ‘sweet treat’.
But it was convenient for the two of you, you got to see each other and spend time in each other’s company in a way that slotted neatly into both of your busy student schedules - plus, you could never figure out why but you seemed to work much better in your boyfriend’s company than you did alone. Even if you found yourself having to put up with his protests against studying multiple times throughout the session.
However what had been a fun little meet up in the earlier weeks of the semester had now become tense, with the onset of finals and end-of-semester assignments. Your boyfriend never seemed to have as much a sense of urgency as you did about these things, and still didn’t understand why you got so worked up about academics. In a weird way, you appreciated it though, for moments like this.
You felt the warmth of his touch on the back of your hand - gentle, soothing.
“Baby,” he murmured, just loud enough for you to hear him through the haze of stress that had seemed to follow you around for the last week. You paused, turning to look up at him and his soft gaze.
“What,” you said, trying not to sound too mad at him interrupting what could’ve been a very thorough revision session - never mind it being your third for the day.
“You’ll be fine for this exam, trust me,” his tone was different from before, the air of humour completely lost and replaced by a sense of earnestness.
“No, but-” you began to protest before he interrupted you.
”You work hard, harder than me and probably harder than most of the people in your class, I know that. You’ll be okay,” you felt your heart soften, accompanied by a pang of annoyance at the fact he always seemed to know what to say to you when you got worked up. You let out a soft sigh to let him know you appreciated his words.
“Now, I think you’ve done enough for today. Why don’t we pack up, grab some dinner, and head home so you can get a good night’s sleep.” A part of you wanted to protest so badly, to shove him away and ask him who the hell he thought he was for talking to you like you were some sort of child. But the rest of you was too tired to do anything but nod, and the better part understood that he wasn’t doing this out of anything but pure love and care for you - as your boyfriend.
You watched as he moved quickly to pack away your things, being gentle with your notes and laptop, before slinging both his and your bag over your shoulder. He reached out a hand to you, which you took, standing up slowly to prevent your legs from cramping up as you were only just realising how long you’d been sitting still for. You looked up as he smiled lovingly, sweeping your hair back to plant a soft kiss on your forehead and drag you out of the library.
#joao felix#joão félix#joao felix x reader#joao felix x you#joao felix fluff#joao felix oneshot#joao felix fic#fanfic#football#oneshot#fc barça#fc barcelona#jet writes ★#purinfelix
51 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi,
So I thought about this idea where George comforts Y/N (his girlfriend) when she is on her period🥹
Thanks in advance!
Have a nice day!
Love, Annelies
lmao im writing this on my period, this is such a sweet concept! also i’ve always wondered how periods work in the wizarding world? are there pain numbing potions? does ibuprofen exist??? anyways, tysm for the request hope you enjoy! <3
wc: 855
navi | g.w. masterlist
Right now, dinner in the Great Hall is usually where you’d be, laughing and chatting with friends. However, today you were curled up in your bed, grimacing and holding onto your lower abdomen in pain.
What was just a dull ache an hour ago had now become excruciating cramps.
As soon as you got back from your last class, you changed into pajamas and sunk into your bed. The pain was gnawing at your insides. You shut your eyes and wished for the aching to magically be over.
The door creaked open, you sighed, not wanting any company, and when you turned your head towards the door. A mop of ginger hair peeked in.
“George? What’re you doing in here?” You lifted your head, looking at him with a confused expression.
“I was wondering the same thing, I was looking all over for you in the Great Hall.”
“You can't be in here, you know.” You muttered, you were already confused on how he was able to sneak out of the Great Hall and into the girls bedroom anyways.
“Says who?”
“When have I ever listened to those?” He scoffed playfully, you just smirked and shook your head, too exhausted to carry on a conversation.
“Why aren’t you at dinner anyways?” He said as he sat down next to you.
“I just don’t feel well.” Your voice was barely above a whisper. George’s brows knit in concern.
“You’re sick?” He asked, pressing a hand to your forehead.
“No, not really, just cramps.” You sighed, pulling his hand away and holding it instead.
George’s mouth dropped into a small ‘o’ shape, he took a second before he stuck his hand into his pockets.
“Well, um, I guess the chocolate I may or may not have taken from the table will come in handy, right?” He pulled a few wrapped up sweets from his pocket, handing one out to you.
“Chocolate helps with…you know?” It brought a small smile to your face seeing how awkward yet polite George was when talking about this.
“Periods.” You looked at him amused as you took a chocolate from his hand, unwrapping it and popping it into your mouth. “You can say the word, it’s not a curse.” Having it absolutely feels like it though.
Before George could say anything, another small stabbing pain shot through your abdomen, causing you to grimace and let out a small groan.
“Is there anything I can do?” You shook your head weakly. George frowned, in moments like these, all he wanted to do was help.
“Maybe you could just lay with me?” You suggested, nodding to the space behind you. George happily did as you asked.
If he couldn’t take away your pain, the least he could do was provide some type of comfort.
He shifted and snuggled up behind you, gently wrapping his arms around your torso and pulling your back to his chest. You let out another small groan at the movement, earning a small apology from George.
“Merlin, I wish there was a spell to get rid of this.” Your voice felt strained.
“Have you tried seeing Madam Pomfrey? Maybe she’s got a potion for this.” He said, placing his hands over yours.
“The most she can do is give me a hot wet rag.” You pouted.
“How long do the cramps last? An hour?”
“Usually almost a full day.” You said flatly, George lifted his head up to look at you.
“Are you serious?” He looked genuinely shocked, a bit horrified.
“Sometimes two if it’s bad.” You raised your brows and smiled, finding his wide eyes and knit together brows humorous.
“I’ll never complain again.” He said, you let out a weak chuckle as he placed a kiss onto your temple.
“You’re sure there’s nothing I can do for you?”
“You could create a sweet that gets rid of cramps.” You half-joked. George let out a small hum, laying his head back down.
“Well, that’d take a few test runs, and Fred and I don’t have…” He trailed off.
“Ovaries?” You finished the sentence for him, less explicit than what he was thinking.
“Yeah. Plus, I doubt any girls around here would be up for doing trial runs.” He tsked. “Maybe I could make a supply kit? A cramp crusade kit.” You began to chuckle.
“That’s what you’d call it? A cramp crusade kit?” You said through your laughter.
“Yeah! Not bad, isn't it?” He nodded from behind you, you could hear the smile in his voice.
“You’re ridiculous.” You shook your head in amusement. George being there didn’t actually take away any of the physical pain, but he did distract you from it.
After your laughter subsided, you grabbed his warm hands and placed them over the tender spots, you let out a small sigh of relief. The warmth was quite pleasant. Your back now felt less tense when you felt his chest rise and fall against it.
“Thanks George,” You breathed out as you closed your eyes. “for being here with me.” Your thumb brushed over his hand.
“Anything for you.” He grinned, pressing a kiss to hair.
tell me what you thought!
#george weasley#george weasley fic#george weasley fanfic#george weasley x reader#george weasley x fem!reader#george weasley fluff#george weasley x you#requests
38 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello love! i'm absolutely enraptured by your writing. If i could, i'd love to request a Henry Winter x Reader enemies to lovers? Like an absolutely cut-throat academic rivalry that culminates in a dramatic fight and reconciliation at Francis' house? Thank you!
≋ Sometimes attraction blossoms even in the most hostile of places. I'm sure having Henry's life could only benefit from having a rival, turning his world upside down, keeping him on his toes. This is one of my longest works yet, also one I'm not too keen on, nonetheless I pray it captures your interest.
≋ Henry Winter x GN!Reader ≋
≋ Word Count: 4582 words.
≋ TW: mentions of dr*gs, consumption of alcohol, violence (Henry receives a slap in a moment of ire), Edmund "Bunny" Corcoran.
I remember when I initially stepped foot in Julian’s office: most of the words he spoke are lost in time but one thing is forever stitched in the fabric of my memory, he patted me on the shoulder as an affectionate mentor would and with an award winning smile he said, “You’ll fit right in.” It made me feel validated at the time, like I had a place in the world, a bird fallen out of its nest reunited with its family at last. He wasted no seconds in telling me how he would usually limit his students to the odd number of only five, but he could tell there was something about the way I carried myself that would not disturb the peaceful routine he had meticulously crafted.
Classes with Julian were anything but peaceful, to my displeasure, not because of him, not at all. He was a splendid instructor, I often found myself on the edge of my seat with each one of his words. With no surprise, I was not the only one placing him on a crystal pedestal.
One single man made each class feel as though I was being tortured by demons, poked by sharp pointy tails. Each of my comments was brushed off, deemed useless and void of meaning, each paragraph, line, even a single word I read was followed by a deep voice interrupting me and correcting my pronunciation with great emphasis. Thankfully, I had found friends as well, other than a snake spiraling around my ankle, threatening to consume me whole.
The root of all of my headaches, as much as I’d love to strip him of his name, is called Henry Winter.
It’s not to say that I’d let him walk all over me. On more than one occasion, I was victorious after our heated discussions about the accuracy of a translated text or if we were to choose one of the five Greek cases over another. Following each argument his jaw would clench and he’d let out a curt “Very well, then,” before turning his head away and acting as if nothing had happened, although I could without fail notice the tension in his body. It was rather easy, for some unknown reason we’d always find ourselves sitting next to each other, so close our knees touched.
“Henry, is there anything you’re unable to do?” One day I asked him, in Julian’s momentary absence, the question felt only natural to pose: with his expertise in various languages and his familiarity with the world in Ancient Greece being so fascinating. The taunting tone in my voice caught the attention of not only my interlocutor, but the rest of our classmates as well. Six pairs of eyes were fixed on me, some looking more amused than others. His response came only after Bunny elbowed him, egging him on, “Ensuring you will not plague my days, apparently,” he said, pushing his glasses further up his nose. The venom he spat failed to enter my system, nonetheless it makes my gaze narrow.
“You always know what to say.” It’s not a question this time, but an observation which he rewarded with a “Of course I do. Lack of words is for the uncultured.” Our interaction was cut short due to Julian returning, but that would not be the end of it.
That very same day, after our lesson was over we all stood to leave, his hand found the spot on the small of my back as he walked past me, as if it belonged there by birthright. Sometimes I still feel it, the memory creeps up on me in the middle of the night, it keeps me awake whilst making me want more and more of him, like a cruel, vicious, thrilling drug I am unable to have a sober day from.
Class wasn’t the only occasion of the day where we would have contrasting thoughts: once, it happened during a morning when all seven of us sat in the library, open books and notebooks scattered all over our table, “This is going nowhere,” groaned Charles pushing the wrinkled paper he was writing onto towards my direction, “Take a look at this. What do you think?”
It stroked my ego that he chose my opinion over Henry’s and by a flying glance I noticed a slight surprised glint in his blue eyes, though he was quick to conceal it by focusing onto the fountain pan in his hand. I wasn’t the only one surprised by our friend’s choice in who should aid him in his translation.
After a short look, the mistake was clear, “Ah, here it is. Your writing is not inherently wrong, ‘Who dares think one thing, and another tell, my heart detests him as the gates of hell,’ while it is correct, it could be worded in a different way, try: ‘For hateful to me as the gates of Hādēs is that man who hides one thought in his mind, but speaks another.’ That should flow better.” Just to be certain - and perhaps to bother him just a small amount - I turned to Henry, “Shouldn’t it?” He didn’t move for a second before humming and nodding, although I might have overheard him whisper “You’re doing too much,” under his breath. When I handed the paper back to its owner I could spot Francis with his hand over his lips, trying to mask a grin, obviously amused by my exchange with our friend.
The amount of times we’ve debated over the littlest of things, it would take all the stars in the universe to count, and it still would not be enough.
“You’re slow today.” He whispered to me one day, when I hadn’t jumped at the opportunity to answer one of Julian’s queries about the Iliad, his breath tickled my ear and sent goosebumps down the back of my neck. It's true, I was slow. Henry's cologne for some insane reason was all I could think about: his closeness to me, as much as it was far by greatly affecting my attention, it certainly was reluctantly occupying a part of my mind. “Have you considered that not every thought should be spoken out loud?” I argued, the left corner of his lips lifted into a crooked half smile, “Interesting. You could benefit from your own advice.” He said, and it ended there. It left me with something I can’t quite recognize.
Ultimately, every day turned into a competition: petty, small things that held my heart hostage, like who was the first to enter Julian’s office at the beginning of the day, who turned in an essay the fastest, whose penmanship was more aesthetically pleasing and whose comments in class were rewarded with more praise.
Another episode in which I thought our rivalry was set in stone, from the very moment he laid eyes on me, happened during a quiet Wednesday, and we were enjoying a delicious lunch at the twins’ place. Camilla had cooked lamb chops, the rest of us had brought refreshments and some side dishes. Henry got a hold of my chair before I could grab it, he pulled it out for me then took a seat in the chair furthest away from mine.
In the middle of our meal, as I was diving in for seconds, Bunny interrupted the calm atmosphere that had formed by being his usual exasperating self and kicking my leg from under the table, “You know,” He began waving his fork in my direction, with his lips still dirty with food, “I’ve always wondered, whenever you look at Julian with stars in your eyes, is it because you truly care about what he has to say, or is it because you’re trying to suck up to him and get easy marks by being a teacher’s pet? He’s too old for you, you know?” From the seat next to me I swear I could hear Charles choke on his food, Richard’s jaw fell open, Francis looked positively disgusted, Camilla -poor soul- pushed her plate away, as the mental image of me being in love with our professor was plastered into her unwilling mind. The only one with no visible reaction was Henry.
“That’s what I thought as well, at first,” He noted, dabbing his lips with his napkin, “Class with Julian is not a slice of bread even the dirty pigeons on the sidewalk can stumble upon. It is only a matter of time before you realize what blessing you’ve found.” He was a master of masking a mocking undertone in his voice, along with an air of superiority which implied that the one thing he was waiting for was for me to blow up, to storm away, pack my stuff and leave Vermont for good.
“Don’t you think assuming my inability to follow lessons with the rest of you is an insult to Julian’s ability to tell whether someone is worth his time or not? If I were him I’d be quite offended, if I can say so.”
The glare he shot at me, with his blue eyes piercing through his glasses, was enough for me to know I had won; the way he was gripping his fork, his knuckles white as ever, let me know that this was not only a win, this was one of his battleships sinking. This was war, as far as I was concerned, it could only end either with an impossible truce or until one of us was dead in a ditch.
Not wanting to entirely ruin lunch, Francis was the one to change the subject. What he said I do not remember, as I was too busy basking in my own subtle victory to pay attention, but it did work and Henry made no further jabs at me that day. The same cannot be said for Bunny, who seemed to find it exhilarating that I would stand up to Henry the way I did and spent the rest of the day testing my patience.
Since that day, life has been notably bloodless between me and the human thorn in my side, with the occasional exception. I’ve come to notice that, when he is not wasting his time trying his best to get on my nerves, he passes as a truly handsome man. It might be something about the sheer size of him, or it could very well be the way he looks at me,his gaze permanently deeper than the ocean itself, as well as his hands, veiny and large, yet rarely rough in movements. I’m ashamed to admit I’ve spent far too many instants passing glimpses at his fingers, as they slide along the pages of books.
If I have to stand in front of a jury of Gods, though, and speak my naked truth - with no censors - I’d probably reveal that what is so fascinating about Henry is the way he is a bottomless well of knowledge about Ancient Greece. He is devoted to it, as he is devoted to Julian and in some sick twisted way I can’t help but find that veneration attractive.
Against my better judgment, I find myself missing our banter more than anything. The way he stared me down used to give me goosebumps, it still does when my eyelids close and I imagine it.
Summer comes faster than I imagine, faster than lightning striking the Earth, and in the blink of an eye I find myself at Francis’s aunt’s house. All of us fell into a comfortable rhythm while residing here, it was a breath of fresh air compared to our daily life. Playing the piano, reading in the vast library, excursions out to the lake, we kept ourselves busy, enjoying the countryside, keeping what -at the time- felt like the biggest secret of our lives from Richard.
At my awakening I was delighted in discovering everyone else was still deep in sleep. I took it as permission to make some breakfast. I had placed two cups of coffee on the table when he made his way into the kitchen, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and not a single sight of his usual exhaustion on his face. Morning sunlight shines onto his skin, giving it a warm glow, he looks positively saintlike. An archangel descending from the heavens, waiting to be welcomed to my mass, just to notify me that the end is coming sooner than I expect.
“I made coffee.” I said, setting a cup in front of him. He looked at it for a moment, just for a moment, before his doubt shrouded eyes met mine, “I have a feeling you’ve poisoned this.” As he was debating whether to accept my offer, Charles joined us. He accepted a cup without a moment’s hesitation, downed it while throwing his head back, then walked off to God knows where, not like I care much.
Henry took a sip only after witnessing that it was indeed safe to do so, I did as well. As the hot liquid met his taste buds I could see him regret he ever came into the kitchen. It was coffee, yes, although unlike my cup which had sugar at the bottom of it, the one he was drinking from had salt in it. A smile tugged at my lips, “Good morning,” I said watching his face scrunch up and force himself to not spit out what was in his mouth. A puzzled look possesses my face as he doesn’t look away from my eyes, not for one second, his eyebrows scrunch while he doesn’t spill a drop of salted coffee, it all slides down his throat. “Good morning.” He replies, coldly, tongue sliding over his bottom lip.
By the time everyone had come to have breakfast, whether it was a glass of wine, whiskey or any drink of their choice, Henry hadn’t moved. With him following my every move, it felt only natural to imagine he’d be scheming something, and my hypothesis would soon reveal itself to ring true, leaving me like a sailor at sea, in the middle of an impenetrable storm.
The sun burns high in the sky, then it slowly melts into the sea, showering the world in tones of red, gold and purple; we spent dawn-to-dark in nature, feeling the blades of grass under our feet, taking turns sitting on a boat floating down the lake and resting by the shadows of the trees with books in our lap, the seraphic nature of the day could have been immortalized in a painting by Michelangelo himself, but no amount of expertise with the brush would be able to capture the unmitigated calm that reigned.
Such a glorious day deserves to have an equally splendid ending, suggested Francis once we retired back to the house. Bottles were hastily opened, alcohol floating in glasses and finding a home between thirsty lips. Inebriation wasted no time in letting inhibitions be on the loose. One small insignificant disagreement accounted as an act of hypothetical insubordination broke into an altercation between me and my nemesis. It went on forever, such an interminable occasion that our friends abandoned us in the kitchen and went on to enjoy their drinks in the library.
“I don’t think you should be here,” His vicious words didn’t faze me at that point, the knowledge that in his idea of a perfect world I was nowhere to be found wasn’t lost on me, “You should get in your car and drive far, far away from where my eye can’t reach.” The first two buttons of his shirt were nonchalantly unbuttoned distracting me for just a moment, the way his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat with each sound caught my attention.
“Careful my friend,” I answered, fingers growing cold from the cool glass in my hand, being gripped with an unusual stability given the wine floating in my system, his face twitched at my name for him, “It almost sounds like my very existence bothers you more than one could imagine.”
“It does. Bother me, it is. It bothers me greatly. I don’t think you should be here” He repeats. As magnanimous as I am, I am no martyr. My glass hits the table with a thud, bright red splashes onto the tablecloth as I raise my voice louder than I would like, “What the fuck is your problem?!” Never in my life had I met a human as frustrating as him, “I can’t imagine I’ve done much to you the first day I sat in that office, yet, you’ve been nothing but unkind towards me.”
“What is my problem?!” He pushes himself to his feet, his voice loud to match mine, “You are my problem! You’re always having something to prove, buzzing about like a working insect devoted to the queen bee, it’s exhausting to even have you sit next to me.” I’m tempted to spill my drink in his face, what a sight it would be: savory red drops slipping down his glasses and hair, wetting his cheeks and jaw until it reached his lip. Instead of that I just shove him, resulting in him stumbling a step backwards, clearly not expecting the mouse to fight back against the owl trying to catch it.
“Have you ever even glimpsed in a mirror?! You act as if you’re so all-mighty, like the rest of the world is merely ants under your shoe! It’s nerve wracking when you find someone you can’t step all over isn't it? How does it feel to have found the one person in the world that does not bow down to you?” He enrages me, in all truth. I can’t bring myself to understand why it is, that now of all times, he makes my blood boil, in more ways than one, “Does it turn your stomach upside down? Is it the only thing you can think about?”
His chest moved for just a single, shaky breath and by now I knew I was playing with fire. If I got burned by touching the sun, at the very least it means I flew high enough to touch it. My hands moved again, ready to push him once again however just a breath before my lips could part to berate him even more his hands caught my wrists.
“You’re a parasite.” He hisses, lowering his face close to mine, by my reflection in the lenses of his glasses it is plain to see his choice of words leaves a mark, not on my face as a slap would, but on my emotions, “You’re a tiny, disgusting, parasite. You’ve single handedly infiltrated yourself in my modus operandi and I am just waiting for the moment I can finally take a moment to breathe again. Since the day you’ve set foot in that office I have, not once, had a chance to relax.” My body reacts before I can allow it to do so, the red handprint forming on his right cheek and his glasses being askew -almost on the brink of falling- confirm that I did, indeed, strike him in a fit of rage. How I was able to free one of my limbs from his death grip I do not know, adrenaline does some wonderful miracles.
“If I’m a parasite,” My voice comes out in a low growl, “Then you best pay attention I don’t end up killing you.” The more I stand in his presence, in this kitchen, having our chests rising in synch with the slowest breaths we have ever taken, I recognize just how much we latch onto each other, how we’ve stitched our existence together with an obsidian thread the very first time we sat with our knees grazing.
“You’ll be the death of me.” He admits in a whisper I can barely hear. Had our faces not been as close as they are, I’d probably would have thought he’d been mouthing nonsense. One second he’s all I can see, with his monumental figure blocking everything else, the next he’s walking away from me, his glass of wine sits on the tablecloth, still full, untouched.
Now I know how Pandora felt as she unintentionally let the vase she was gifted almost grow empty, now I could describe in meticulous detail what a bee feels after its first and final sting.
I do not join my friends in their gathering. My chest aches with something unfamiliar, comfort certainly won’t be known for as long as I find myself anywhere near Henry Winter.
The moon has reached its place in the sky by barely an hour now, a pearl glistening onto a fabric of pure pitch-black, tiny crystals surrounding it, making sure it will never be alone forever and ever. I’ve never seen a tapestry as breathtaking as the one mirroring on the calm surface of the lake I’m strolling by to gather my thoughts. Henry is somewhat right, deep inside of me I can feel it, I’ll be the death of him one way or another. He’s the king, guiding his troops and his courtesans from the comfortable seat of an opulent throne and I’m an approaching invasion, inevitable and threatening destruction for the kingdom he has built from nothing, rooted in the deepest of sins: pride. Hubris seems to get the better of us both with each breath we take.
My anger had settled in the brief sixty minutes I’ve spent admiring the darkness, by myself. Some fireflies with their microscopic body attempt to irradiate the entire lakeside with light, oblivious to their size or the impossibility of their mission.
Tirelessly I recount my life at Hampden, every single moment I can recall gets forced under scrutiny: “You’ll fit right in,” Julian had told me, in his eyes there lived a conviction I’ve noticed only during his enthralling lessons. I’ve only ever known him to speak the holy truth, doubting feels like going against everything I’ve ever known. In my solitude I find contentment, time flows steadily, mimicking a river in which nymphs could find respite.
“So this is where you were hiding.” A deep voice rises among the chirping of crickets, “We couldn’t find you at the house.” And just like that the incantation I’d fashioned myself in dissolves in the cool night air, joining the fireflies in their dance to please the stars and the moon. I hear him before I see him. A colorless shadow approaches me, in an impossibly inky abyss of nature, it can only be him; out of all our friends he’s the only one that can tell what bizarre chemical reactions my brain produces, he’s the only one that can read my thoughts like they were the very first lines of the Iliad, because more often than not he’s thinking the exact same thing.
‘The wrath of Peleus' son, the direful spring Of all the Grecian woes, O Goddess, sing.’ I recite in my mind as the barely human shadow only gets closer and closer, ‘That wrath which hurled to Pluto's gloomy reign the souls of mighty chiefs untimely slain, whose limbs, unburied on the naked shore,’ his footsteps stop behind me, he wants to speak as do I, but neither dare utter a sound, ‘Devouring dogs and hungry vultures tore: Since great Achilles and Atrides strove, such was the sovereign doom, and such the will of Jove!’
Unconsciously I found more satisfaction in rehearsing the words out loud, “Declare, O Muse. In what ill-fated hour, sprung the fierce strife, from what offended power?” And of course, he continued them effortlessly: “Latona's son a dire contagion spread, and heaped the camp with mountains of the dead; The king of men his reverend priest defied, and, for the king's offence, the people died.” We will never stop trying to compete with each other, it is a losing battle: it’s asking the moon to stop being the unmatchable muse for romance poems, it’s asking the cosmos and all of its constellations to disappear.
“You’re not always honest,” I mumbled, disregarding if he’d consider me weak or frail, ignoring the way I could feel him burn a hole in the back of my head, “Tonight you were what I think is the most honest you’ve been in a long time.” He’s my tormentor just as much as I am his.
His knee grazes against mine in the instant he finds a seat on the grass, next to me. His lingering accidental touch takes a hold of me, it’s addictive. “You are a parasite.” He insists and for a moment I think we’re about to raise our voices at each other again, but then he continues with a softer voice, “You’ve latched into my mind, consuming every corner of my life and I am defenseless to it.”
“What do you mean?”
I can’t perfectly see his face in the moonlight, but if he is by any means like me as I know he is, I can consider correct the hypothesis of his pupils being dilated enough to swallow me whole. He drinks me in, like the salty cup of coffee I offered him, he doesn't leave anything behind, doesn’t waste a drop.
“You’re in possession of a great intellect. For a second in your life, put aside the countless feuds we were active participants in and figure it out. You’re hurling me into unwanted and unknown territory.” I know what he means. He could speak every language in the world and I’d still know what each word signifies, in its deepest meaning. It baffles me that he is able to discern my brilliance. He’d never lauded me so. There’s a first for everything, it seems.
“I am not a threat to your leadership, I’m not trying to be.”
He laughs at my words, to my surprise: dry and void of humor, “It’s not my leadership that’s compromised. It’s my heart and mind. While at first I found our game bothersome and quite frankly childish, I’ve unearthed a yearning for it, so influential on my being that I find myself hopelessly wishing you’d dismiss yourself from my life, with the result that I might go back to when you were not the only thing inhabiting my thoughts.”
“I won’t deny I’ve allowed myself to feel the same.” In the dim lighting we sit, I’m appreciative my confession will be the only truly limpid particle of me, I’m not ready for him to see me as I am, not yet, “I yearn for our arguments, for the furrow in your brow and your disapproving stare with each of our disagreements, most of all I yearn for your stimulating presence. Henry, you’re quite the character.”
“So are you. Impossibly infuriating, and delightfully of the essence for me.”
Our friends are waiting for us, I’m acutely aware of it, nonetheless I find myself giving into selfishness for tonight. It is a long way to go, for us two to build a bridge, but with one brick at a time perhaps it is not only a bridge we can erect, but a whole kingdom, with two thrones instead of a solitary one and no invasion to knock at its doors. If his hand slips on top of mine I pretend I do not notice, just like he doesn’t mention my head resting itself on his shoulder. The lake has never looked better, with a bright spotlight shining onto the calm surface, ripped out the pages of a fairytale. Maybe with enough time and effort the fireflies will be able to shine as bright as the moon.
#fleetingcalypso#calypsodaydreams#henry winter x reader#henry winter#the secret history#the secret history x reader#tsh donna tartt#dark academia#reader insert#writing
30 notes
·
View notes
Note
Could you do a story with a janitor swapping bodies with his hunky boss, please?
Happy retirement
This is my boss, Mr. Lark. He created his company when he was just a teenager. A company that become now one of the most profitable in town. Which made him a high class person over the years. Unfortunately the more money he had the worse his personality was. He bullied some coworkers, was mysoginistic a mainly spent all of his money on holidays, luxury cars and woman.
When he made a suprise retirement party for me, as a janitor, who worked in this company for over 25 years. Almost since the start.
The party wasn't bad, but as you can see from the photo it was just a PR stunt for my boss. After that he even made me start cleaning after the party "since it's your last day" he said and laughed. What a prick
I went to clean the last room left and that was his office. He always had ton pf garbage. But this time I only saw a few tissues there. The hand cream sat on the table. He was jerking off
Now, I don't do this a lot, but I do have some fettish. I never truly explored what it means because of my age and introverted personailty. But right now, all I kept thinking about was to inhale the tissues.
And so I did. I took them to my nose. I inhaled the strong scent of sperm. The idea that thus was just a few hours ago in my boss dick was extremely erotic to me. Suddenly I found myself eating the tissues like it was candy. And I didn't really mind.
But something else started to happen too. I must have done something forbbiden or I don't know, but my world started spinning and then I fell.
After I opened my eyes I found myself on a boat. Floating in the sea. And definitely not as myself. I was younger. Fitter. Tight and tan skin. Strong muscles.
I already had my suspicion but I needed to make sure. I got up to find out what happened. I look in the mirror and see my own boss.
As I look at my face I was mesmerized by my new incredibly healthy set of teeth and a beautiful face. Suddenly a young naked woman appeared from behind the corner.
"Hey, ready for round two? We can't wait for you any longer. We need you."
Another handsome man got close to her. And looked at me and her seductively:"We want you boss. We need you to fill us!"
Well. This is gonna be interesting.
After some time of nonstop sex, alcohol and partying we had time to relax. I slowly got adapted to my new life as the new 'boss daddy' as the young couple called me.
What happened to my body are you asking?
Well... that is rather a sad story. It seems that Mr. Lark's neurotic personality and my body didn't quite get along. Right now he is in a hospital with a heard failure. Maybe I should rush to the hospital to... you know... say goodbye.
Like I'd ever give up this body. No, I earned it and it's mine and I'm gonna enjoy it as I want. So enjoy the retirement Mr. Lark. Atleast you don't have to finish cleaning after the party
44 notes
·
View notes
Note
I see that you are accepting requests so I would love to request a 7 minute in heaven scenario with all the dorm leaders plus Lilia. You can make it fluffy/suggestive and if you wanted to do an 18+ continuation. You can if you want to. Thank you
7 minutes too little
For the sake of keeping it gn as possible I will refer to the reader as Yuu and you
Some you're dating them some you're not
⚠️some NSFW content, mentions of male genitalia, some strong language⚠️
Riddle Rosehearts
Riddle is already uncomfortable being at a party with the rest of the heartslabyul. Cater had the idea to play 7 minutes in heaven. Trey collected all the names and Riddle being the dorm leader pulled out two names. He got a little pissed off when he read it was You. he begrudgingly unfolded the other paper and let out a surprised yelp when he read his name.
I'm not gonna name names, but Cater charmed the fake papers to only say Riddle and Yuu.
I can feel the heat radiating off Riddle's nervous body as you two walked into the closet. Now this can go multiple ways. All of them involve him being in love with you.
So, if you return his feelings and haven't made them obvious, like me. I would be just as nervous as him and be awkward.
But if you are the opposite and constantly flirt with him, you might make the first move.
kabedon him. Or don't. I would. his face would be funny.
I don't think Riddle would last the full 7 minutes.
He would probably get a boner and a nosebleed just from kissing you.
He would be too embarrassed after time is up and cover his boner with his cape and quickly walk out of the room.
This is when you slip Cater and Trey their 20 Thaumarks each for helping you make a move on Riddle.
Leona Kingscholar
Smug mfer.
There was literally only five of you. Leona, Ruggie, Jack, and Rook.
Leona didn't even read the name on the paper before he threw you over his shoulder and took you out of the common room leaving grossed out jack and Ruggie and a smirking Rook.
I hope to God that Leona knows a silencing charm like in Harry Potter.
Let's go with Beastmen have heat/mating cycles. and lets say leona had just started his the day you were all hanging out. Beastmen get time off from classes for their heat cycles, so their partners do too. So for the next week you are Leona's prey and I wish you luck. All you wanted to do was play a game of 7 minutes in heaven, not 7 days of rough sex (that was followed up by soft aftercare cause Leona is soft for you)
Azul Ashengrotto
Okay so you weren't actually playing 7 minutes in heaven. You were actually on your way to see Azul to work on a project. Floyd just so happens to scream really loud that Azul likes you and says that you should kiss and barricades you two in his office.
Azul wants to hide in his octopot. He is bright red.
He desperately tries to avoid looking at you as he tries to focus on the project you two are supposed to do.
Me personally I would wait until he thinks I forgot about what Floyd did then I would attack. A single kiss on the cheek then back to work like nothing.
"Are ya kissin em' Azul!?" Floyd yelled loud enough for the whole restaurant to hear which made him even more embarrassed.
The best you would get from him if he didn't have a heart attack would be a kiss on the hand before you leave.
If you made a move you could kiss him and he wouldn't complain.
Kalim Al-Asim
Kalim has no filter. So you might be playing 7 in heaven but there wouldn't be time for a closet before you could see big hearts in his eyes and gasping before immediately kissing you even if everyone was complaining.
He is super excited and he sits next to you after kissing you and holds your hand the entire time.
no joke there is no need for 7 in heaven. All you have to do is ask this sweet boy for a kiss or hug and he'll give it to you.
Vil Schoenheit
Bold of you to assume he would stoop to the level of childish games such as that. No no. He would never, especially if it would ruin his makeup or disrupt his necessary sleep.
No. He will not play. He only uses smudge proof makeup and so he will give you a kiss. A single kiss. Not only does he respect you not to go overboard with PDA but he also has an image to keep up.
So don't ask him to play that stupid game, just ask for a kiss little sweet potato (his words, not mine)
Idia Shroud
Nononononononononononononononononononononononononono
He doesn't ever leave his room, he would rather be caught dead than in a situation where this game would be played.
However, you would make your Thems (Sims) characters play this game which would still make his heart melt. I mean, he would call you a cringey normie but still. He absolutely thinks it's cute. He would record it and watch it over and over and over again. He won't tell you that though. (Ortho would sow you the video and Idia watching it)
Malleus Draconia
What is this heaven and why do you have to go in a closet to get there?
Poor baby is so confused. If you want him to kiss you why do you have to go to a different realm to do it?
I think Lilia would put you two up to it, not necessarily playing the game as Malleus wouldn't understand the concept. Probably like Floyd he locked you guys in a room in Diasomnia. He would be polite about it and ask to kiss you. Straight up no shame.
He wouldn't make out with you like a horny teen. All kisses would be romantic. However, he would absolutely tangle his fingers in your hair or put his hand on the back of your neck not letting you get away from the kiss.
He would not have sex with you in a stuffy closet if it escalated to that. That is for peasants. He's gonna treat you right with his incredibly soft bed and incredible love making. Also literally the king of aftercare. Any pain you have is taken away when he gives you a potion.
Lilia Vanrouge
you would literally just be walking down the hall and Lilia would appear and drag you into a closet
Cheeky mf
Literally would make a huge show of setting his timer. Actually it's an hourglass cause he's old. 🙃
He would take his time rolling up his sleeves like he's about to cook that nasty wonderful cooking he always does.
He would draw everything out to tease you saying shit like 'Oh I'm not as young as I used to be I don't know how to kiss anyone' like he didn't make out with you before class Spiderman style???
Anyways, after he makes this grand show he finally gets ready to kiss you.
He puts his hands on your cheeks, looking into your eyes all sweetly. He teases a bit by looking down to your lips and back to your eyes. He asks if he can kiss you, such a gentleman. You close your eyes and prepare for a kiss. You feel his breath on your skin.
Just as you expect to feel his soft lips against yours
.........
YOU FEEL HIS TONGUE ON YOUR CHEEK!!!!!!!
Then you hear his little keehee tee laughter before he disappears and leaves you in the closet.
This man can't be serious in his old age. Ever.
#x fem!reader#x gn reader#x female reader#x reader#x male reader#headcannons#my headcanons#lilia vanrouge#malleus draconia#kalim al asim#leona kingscholar#azul ashengrotto#riddle rosehearts#idia shroud#vil schoenheit#disney twst#twst wonderland#twisted wonderland#dorm leaders#night raven college
37 notes
·
View notes
Text
What if... a modern AU where James is Lucie's much older brother, like, he is in college and she is still in pre-school or kindergarten, and one day both his parents are busy so James needs to take lil Lucie to school...
Only to be met with Matthew, the most handsome and most adorable TA ever, greeting kids and parents for this class and making James completely flustered when he says "Oh, so you must be the awesome older brother Luce is always talking about, it's so great to finally meet you, Jamie!" to the point he completely forgets anything else in the world while he listens to Matthew talk about Lucie and what a hoot she is in class just because he doesn't want to stop listening to his voice and then James is very, very late for class that day.
And he starts taking Lucie to school on his way to college muuuch more often after that.
#Here all classes even for kids need to have a teacher and an assistant that is usually an intern on the last years of college#dunno if other places too but idc the idea was too cute to pass up#James connecting the dots of all the things Lucie has said about 'Math' before and always asking about her day cause he wants to Know More#They can never talk much because you know there are other kids and parents arriving and Matthew needs to work so it never feels enough#Will he ever work up the courage to ask Matthew out tho? Who is to say#aahhhh I'm in love with this idea#heronchild#james herondale#matthew fairchild#tlh#the last hours#tsc#the shadowhunter chronicles#headcanon#college au
34 notes
·
View notes
Text
wanna play the sims soooo baaaaad but bg3 takes up so much space I can't update it </3 maybe I'll ask N to help me clean out some stuff bc I simply Do Not Know things about computers lmao
#rAMbles#I'm also mourning my laptop that stopped working three years ago again#mostly bc i had so many interesting academic pdfs saved that i didn't appreciate in college and want to read again#i gotta try to remember that one website that has SOOOO many experimental films on it that i used my university's library login for...#i wonder if I'd still have access to it#maybe I'll reach out to my old professor and ask if he has any new site recommendations#j**** r******* you will forever be one of the best professors I've ever had!!!!#omg one day we just drew on 10ft of 35mm and he played it through a projector.. man that was a cool day#lemme dig up my notes from that class and research all the artists he shared again..#I'm thinking about his notes saying the work i created in his class was on par with grad level work and... auuuughhh i miss making video art#i was so spoiled using 4k cameras and professional mics and access to several video editing programs#time to ask N to find me rips of them i think :) i loved editing i was just too high and depressed in college to make more work#ugh maybe I'll ask my friend if i can use her mac so i can transfer some work i have on my mac only harddrive onto a flashdrive.. hmm...#okay rambling done i just really miss being a video artist#i lied last thought.. i really want to make a documentary again#OKAY BYE
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
lol my student teaching supervisor sent me my feedback video because he observed me friday and it was twenty minutes long and he essentially said that he was disappointed in me and that i did a disservice to american poetry so i'm feeling pretty good about myself
#lol this week sucked#he also said that it looks like i put a Little bit of effort into learning about whitman before teaching him but i honestly think i did#more than that and now i just feel like crap lol like ik his masters was in american lit and content knowledge isn't my strong suit but i#have PAGES of notes about whitman and tried to learn SO MUCH about him and did SO MUCH studying of the poems we read#idk ik i need to work on my content knowledge but like some of my eng ed student teaching friends and i were talking friday and he's being#like really harsh with everyone like has made almost all of us cry? one of my friends is considering not even going into teaching anymore#because his feedback was so negative like dude you weren't like this last semester? idk it's just hard to feel good about yourself and your#progress when your supervisor says he was disappointed in what he saw idk maybe i'm being overdramatic... i like to think i'm really#receptive to feedback both positive and negative but this one hurt ngl ik the class discussions weren't the best but they all hated poetry#and i was dragging as much as i could out of them and they're all restless because we haven't had a day off since january and idk. well#hopefully dickinson goes better ig - God i'm so scared for my mentor teacher to watch the video because she always does and she's great and#i don't want her to be disappointed in me lol#sorry just had a mini breakdown👍🏻
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
still thinking about how my friend said my dad looked like a yakuza last night like 😭😭 ??
#snap chats#i was showing her a pic i took of him when i saw him last month and she was just like#'oh he looks like a yakuza guy' HUH ??? like he is as tall as a typical rgg chara and ik i joke bout my dad lookin like daigo--#NO BUT THEN I SHOW HER A PIC /OF/ DAIGO AND SHES LIKE 'i dont see it' ?????????? LIKE SURE MY DADS BALD BUT#THAT THE CLOSEST COMPARISON you mkae no sense girl#its so funny she thinks my life revolves around yakuza And It Does but its so funny when she tries to equate stuff to it#like that event i went to last night was an ornament painting one and she was like#'oh why dont you make a yakuza ornament :) like uhhh arakawa and uhhhh that other guy'#FIRST OFF SHE STILL DOESNT REMEMBER SAWASHRIOVELKRVEJ BUT ALSO WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN#i mean lowkey in retrospect i could have made an arakawa family ornament but not the point#the point is my life isnt JUST YAKUZA KAYLA SHUT UP ????? LOL#i appreciate it tho. shes trying. /would be great if we finished y7 one day/#on that note. can i share the absolute joy i felt last night#like i said her favorite streamer's name is joe but we were hanging with a friend who didnt know about This Joe Guy#and so when my friend started talking about him the other friend was earnestly just 'who's joe'#and i have never felt such joy in saying 'joe mama' I HAD BEEN WAITING MY ENTIRE LIFE FOR THAT MOMENT#ITS LIKE WHEN I GOT UPDOG TO WORK ON MY OLD FRIEND LIKE PLEAAASE I DONT CARE IF ITS A DUMB JOKE#IM DUMB AND I LOVE DUMB JOKES i was so happy. the purest joy i felt ever#ok bye i guess i should get ready for class
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
funny thing happened when i was subbing fourth grade technology today. a boy raised his hand when i introduced myself as miss (last name) and said "there used to be someone who looked JUST like you who worked at after care a few years ago."
"that was me >:)"
and he was like... honestly *____*-facing
#idk how to describe the emotions of the *____* (an underrated fav of mine) thats why art is so much more eloquent than words#tales from diana#some kids realize it's me and im the same person#oh when i was working for the after school program i went by miss diana. important detail#we all did first names except for my coworker who was a para at the school during the day she still went by her last name. naturally#bc that's what all the kids knew her as already#but yeah like my boss was mr. bruce for instance#i had a boy in one second grade class seemingly FORGET me? he was a kindergartener#i had just walked into the room a minute ago and i said '(his name) stop that' and he was like 'how do you know my name?'#uhm. because we've played stratego together.#another girl in his grade (now a second grader) who used to really love me and always seems happy to see me subbing#she asked me one time 'why did you change your name?' 'i didnt!' and she was like: :0000#me explaining to my friends that i have a first AND last name#also in that fourth grade class was my first grader i used to tutor when school was still remote!#he's so big now jesus fuckin christ#he asked me if i. like. PREFER to be called miss (last name) bc w him i just went by diana#and i was like 'well. you know my name and thats ok but just call me what all the other kids are supposed to call me' lol#if you run into me at the grocery store you can say hi diana. at school it's miss b#he's funny he always doesn't like to seem too attached or affectionate (he was like that when he was young too) but i can tell#he's always happy to see me around :)
4 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
busangeuk
jimin-hyung, japan, and 5am
pentatournix
🌏 PTX The World Tour 🌍
perchling
I Buried a Jellyfish Once.
indark-ness
Αθηνά
lets-talk-about-adam-blog
Let's Talk About Adam