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yanderenightmare · 4 months

Note

...part two where alpha bakugou finally tries to court reader after a few years of possessively scenting her and walks in on her in her first hear

Bakugou Katsuki

TW: omegaverse, possessiveness, awkward relationship

part 1

gn reader

He’s trying to figure out how to get you to move in with him.

He’s done at UA now, receiving steady work and paychecks. His apartment is nice, in a good and practical location. Everything is stable. Everything’s in place.

Everything except you.

He knows he hasn’t been the most reasonable mate throughout the years. His confession was nothing short of a threat – forcing you to wear his clothes so others would know you were taken.

But he did those things to protect you, to keep you safe – which is his duty as an Alpha. He's done his side of the courtship.

In all honesty, you’re the one who’s unreasonable – you’re the one not doing your job.

He’s not blind to see how doting other Omegas are towards their Alphas.

You don’t dote on him – never kissy or cuddly or lovey-dovey – at best, you’re passive with an inclination to be agreeable.

How’s he supposed to make any sort of moves on you when you don’t give him any signals? At this rate, the two of you will be left in a platonic state of… not friendship or kinship… just plain awkwardness – a stalemate.

It’s embarrassing… the two of you haven't even consummated your bond yet. In fact, and even more embarrassing – you haven't even kissed.

You may very well not even be mates at this point.

He can’t blame you, though…

He’s not any good when it comes to you. He never has been. All your conversations are of him either tutoring you in subjects, scolding you for not wearing his clothes, or admonishing you for not telling him about your schedule.

Actually, almost every conversation you have with each other is of him shouting at you.

It’s no wonder you won’t kiss him.

“Oi – I’m done. Heading over now.” He grunts as soon as he hears the tell-tale silence of you answering his call.

“Uhm,”

He furrows his brows at the soft warble, waiting for more.

There’s heavy breathing coming from your line. Then, a whimper which only makes his brows furrow tighter.

“I’m – uhm, not really feeling so good.” You finally say.

More heavy breathing, followed by a wince.

“Maybe you shouldn't come...”

“Hah? You’ sick? What kinda sick? How’d you get sick?” He immediately starts berating. “This is why you can’t live alone-”

“Just don’t come.” You interrupt a little louder, offering a sigh. “I don’t want to make you sick too…” He thought he even heard a sniffle. “I’ll stay inside, so don’t worry. I’ll call when I feel better – you can come then, okay?”

A small beat passes.

“No. I’m coming now.”

“But-” You whine, but he hangs up.

Dumb brat. Getting yourself sick. This is exactly why you should live with him. You don’t wear a jacket when it’s cold. You don’t eat what you should. You don’t drink enough water. You don’t sleep when you ought to.

“Oi! Open up, brat.” He bangs on your door when he arrives a curt fifteen minutes later – unbothered by the many other students buzzing around the dorm.

He hears you rush to open, quick footsteps padding across the floor – before the door swings open.

You pull him in by the arm, shutting it quickly behind him.

“Don’t call me a brat where everyone can hear, you dummy.” You hiss, slapping his chest in no way that hurt.

Still, he raises a brow at you.

Then he makes another grimace. Narrowing his eyes as he leans forward just a nod – his broad shoulders squared and stiff.

You curl your brows at the stance, tilting your head in askance while his nose scrunches – sniffing the air between you – almost scrutinizingly.

“You’re not sick.” He suddenly accuses.

It’s an odd thing to disagree on. But it always is with Katsuki – ever the unreasonable Alpha.

“Yes, I am.” You sigh, brushing past him. “I have a fever, and I feel funny.”

He grabs you before you get too far – although softly – holding you by your upper arms while leaning in closer – now with his nose sliding along your neck.

You feel flushed at the proximity. Odd, for some reason.

Something tickles deep down in your stomach, along with the brewing pain you’d felt all day.

“Feverish, restless, aching stomach?” He lists the symptoms with a raised brow, though more so in a statement. Clicking his tongue at the clueless look of askance you give him in return. “You’re in heat, you dumbass.”

This time, you really feel flushed. Eyes going moon-big at his claim – suddenly very nervous. And for good reason.

“No… how do you know?” You deny, shaking your head as though it would make him any less right.

“Tch-” He scoffs halfheartedly – not sharply like he so often does.

Dropping your arms, he straightens his back and looks off to the side – his voice low with something you’d never heard from him.

“You’re stinking up the whole place...”

There’s a blush dusting his cheeks.

The feeling is mutual.

He hadn’t been on board when you’d told him you were moving out of your home to your college campus. The thought of you living in close proximity to dozens of other alphas and trigger-happy betas made the vein in his forehead pulse – hands sweaty at his sides.

But he’d helped you move nonetheless – if only to make sure your dorm was infested with his scent – veering off any unwanted bidders.

“Such a dumb brat…” He sighed. Walking over to the door to make sure you’d locked it – you hadn’t, which only further made him scowl. “Got any idea how dangerous this is? Allowing everyone who walks by to know exactly how-”

“Don’t shout!” You bark back. Feeling nervous and tense and worried – all in all panicked. This wasn’t the plan. “The plan was obviously to use suppressants – but I've never been in heat before, so-”

“So yer sayin’ you had no plan. Tch, unprepared – like always.” He bites back – also panicked.

“Shut up, jerk.” Your fists ball at your sides. “You’re not helping- oww-” You keeled before you could rant – wrapping your arms around your stomach.

Heavy breaths erratically short, interrupted by whimpers and a wince.

His scowl cleared – easing up when he realized his presence might have just made things worse. He’d showered after patrol, so the scent wasn’t as intense, but it was enough for you to react – knowing his pheromones were spurring your hormones into greater turmoil.

“Shit.” He muttered – suppose with some empathy – before he scooped you up from where you were all about ready to kiss the floor, huddled over. “Alright then, brat...”

You were weak to his handlings – before you knew it, you were already placed in the bed – the two of you in a spoon – your back to his broad chest and his chin atop your head.

He was a little stiff – not unlike him – but you suppose he was feeling a little shy about the matter – his movements perhaps even slightly sheepish as he smoothed his hand over your stomach.

He went under your shirt but didn’t lift it off – placing his palm down flat atop the ache inside.

Slowly, he began rubbing circles into the flesh – a little awkwardly until finding the right pace.

It hurt at first – made you tense – but then it settled. The warmth soon soothed the churning within, making it melt, and you let out a relieved sigh – breaths still burdened, laced with pitiful whimpers you couldn’t help but let slip.

He suppressed a sound when you shimmied closer – trying to will away the warmth he felt swell in his pants.

But your scent had been clouding his head since he'd stepped into the room and was only growing thicker.

“We don’t have to do anything else.” He stated through the haze in spite of it – as though renouncing the need even though you both knew what it was that was poking against your butt.

“You’re hard.” You argued bluntly – as you’d learned was your only tactic with him.

Feeling him bristle. “Tch – blame your shitty scent – a man can only hold himself back so much…”

All clothes were still on – and yet… the fat thing that was tucked right alongside the thin cotton of your pajama shorts and undies… you wouldn’t deny it felt nice – couldn’t – not when you were so wet it was embarrassing.

“Stop.” You said – and his hand peeled off your stomach, making you grab and put it back in place. “No, not that – I mean…”

You chewed your lip – shuffling your thighs – feeling hot all over before releasing another sigh.

“You don’t have to hold yourself back…” You could only barely say it – almost unheard in how timid a whisper it was.

He took a moment in fear of having misunderstood you – remaining vigilant in his cautiousness. Every nerve recognized what a fragile state you were in – and nothing dared defy the single dominant instinct he had telling him to cater to your every need – despite the other almost equally incessant urge he felt to hump you like a pillow.

“Y’gotta explain yourself.”

This time, you gave a whine – caught between vexed and desperate. Shrinking where you lay snug against his bigger body, curling in on yourself. “Please don’t make me say it, Katsuki – it’s so embarrassing, I think I might die.”

His heart beats faster at the vulnerable cry. He swallowed the pool of drool under his tongue – squaring his jaw, doing his best to keep his voice calm. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you want.”

“Ugh – you're such a bully-” You curl even further into a ball with a whimper.

Katsuki clicks his tongue at your behavior – briefly rolling his eyes before pulling you up beneath him. His red eyes, holding that pointed dour look – such contrast to the swiveling of your watery ones.

“Tell me what you want.” His voice was sturdier now – an anchor you could hold onto.

You had often been unsure whether Katsuki really was the right mate for you even though you couldn’t really picture yourself with anyone else – let alone think of him with another Omega without wanting to trash your room like a wild animal let out of the cage. But looking at him now – into those bromine eyes – once so harsh and now so mature, making you feel so safe.

He was waiting for an answer, but your lips had other plans – planting themselves on his in a spur-of-the-moment kiss.

And what left them once the two of you parted was nothing short of heart-robbing.

“Please fuck me.”

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pansyfemme · 6 months

Text

jude + he/him + nineteen

FTM femfag colorfreak and general rainbow lover. I’m a sophomore in art school, a lover of obscure indie pop, and a guy who makes transgender penis jokes on the internet. Stay weird with it always, yknow?

I’m veryyyyyy t4t towards other trans guys butch, fem, femme, and masc alike and this is 90% of my content fair warning.

Art: @fagboyfriend

Twee/Indie Pop blog : @upforabit

dm for nsfw blog

selfies are under: #Jude pansyfem irl

putting a short faq under cut bc. i get the same questions a lot. check it before you ask about my icon or header or anything

faq:

How long have you been on T/How do you have a beard at 19? I came out at 12 years old, started blockers at 14 and HRT later that same year, and had top surgery at 17, making me 5 years on t and 2.5 years post op.

What show/game/comic is your icon from? its a cropped version of the album cover of the 1999 album “shake the pounce” by vancouver based twee pop band Gaze. It’s a favorite album of mine as well as just a cool little guy i like a lot

Where is your header from? a painting i did in gouache a year or two ago and thought would make a nifty header.

Oh come on, you’re not unboyfriendable! “unboyfriendable” has been my title for a long time now on account of it being a lyric from a song that means a lot to me, “all my little words” by the magnetic fields. i promise i am very fuckable im just really into sad music sometimes

How do I refer to you? Actually, i don't get this question a lot, and I shouldn't, since this info is both in my pinned above and in my bio. But a lot of people still seem awful confused. I am male. FTM. I use He/Him pronouns and masculine terms with the exception of compliments like 'pretty' and all that. I am not nonbinary, and do not like to be referred to gender neutrally. I simply am a trans man who enjoys gender non conformity and cross-dressing.

Are you Bi or Gay? this world is full of beauty. im queer. take that how you will. I generally consider myself open to any gender as long as they’re trans, (i am strictly t4t.) but still identify pretty strongly with being a queer guy in the way that i do like other men.

What style are you wearing/where do you get your clothes? I started by wearing my personal version of the japanese fashion subculture Decora Kei. My decora became a bit messy and grungy, and while i do still identify as a decora boy and wear full coords from time to time, i consider myself now someone who enjoys colorful fashion and takes influence from 90s harajuku fashion, punk subcultures, drag and other campy fashion. I shop a variety of places, but a lot of my stuff is from Kei Collective or Candy Trap.

What is Twee/Do you Make Music? Twee is a music genre I developed a special interest in a few years back. It's a style of indie pop that originated after the UK rise of the famous c86 compilation tape in the late eighties, and was developed with a focus on low-fidelity, diy sound combined with upbeat, bubblegum-y pop sentiments and a naive, childlike outlook. It's both cute and somewhat rough around the edges. I do not make music, and don’t hold any musical skill. I’m just a major fan.

Do you take commissions? you may direct all art related questions to my art blog inbox, but for the time being, please just dm me for commission info. I take them on a case by case basis currently, im a full time student and have a lot on my plate. I’ll let you know my availability and pricing upon request, but i generally prefer the ‘you tell me your vision, i give you a quote and you tell me if that works for you’ model of pricing because each peice is considered its own thing in my mind. Pricing for ‘full body’ or ‘lineart’ doesnt work for me beacause the media and subject doesn’t really dictate how much time or effort a peice will take for me.

Can you boost/reblog this post for me? This is a tough answer, i know, but if we are not mutuals, or I do not know you, I cannot do that for you. My reasoning being that I have been baited by very similar asks in the past that turned out to be scams, and I do not want to take the risk of spreading misinformation or scams now that I have a much larger following. I do my best to spread stuff that ends up on my dash and/or I can factcheck, but if I do not have that, I will be wary, considering my past interactions.

Can we be friends/Can I DM you? Anyone is welcome to send me a message of any type at any time, unless I have those settings changed, in which case i likely have it off short term, because i experience fairly regular transphobic harassment and i find it the best way to protect myself. However, just understand that I am a stranger on the internet. I don't always want to continue every conversation, and I'm not online all the time. I have all push notifications for tumblr turned off, including asks and dms, because it's much better for my mental health to be able to opt out of tumblr the moment I close the app. So, if i don't respond, i'm probably just doing something else or didn't see your message. And, if you come in full force flirtatiously, i appriciate it greatly and i'm sure i'll let you know, but i'm pretty shy one on one. Additionally, i may not respond if you're a blank blog, way older or younger than me, or honestly.. anything that makes me uncomfortable. so like. all of these are pretty basic rules but, people don't follow them so i must clarify.

Do you have a DNI? I haven't in a long time, due to it being pretty frequently ignored and my following count growing to the point i can't really control that anymore. I can and will block people, but i feel my opinions are made fairly clear through what I post here.

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probably-writing-x · 1 year

Text

I’ll love you in the morning

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: Being in a relationship with Rafe meant arguments were a regular occurrence, a day didn’t feel normal without one. But the thing with you and Rafe - you never went to bed angry at each other

Warnings: Cursing, jealous rafe, fluffy as heckkkkk

Author’s Note: Been binge watching OBX for the thousandth time so it only felt right to write about it now :) Please send me any requests you might have, there is a masterlist on my page of everything else I have written for before, but am happy to take requests for anything and I’ll see what I can do x Have a lovely day angels <3

Not my gif

You weren’t sure why he was mad at you, but it seemed to radiate in the space between you. It was obvious in the tension in his shoulders, the way his eyes wouldn’t meet yours, the way his jaw clenched when he heard someone mention your name. It was midsummers tonight, and he’d invited you as his date - making you one of the only Pogues here. The two of you had been dating for a little under a year, and your anniversary was coming up in a few weeks. He’d hated you at first, he just knew you as John B’s sister, a Pogue through and through, and that was enough in itself for him to have a bad opinion of you. But, a year ago, you’d both got drunk at one of the parties on the beach, and he’d argued with you over which can of beer was his, and then you’d woken up the following morning next to him on the beach. Though, when you’d gone to leave, he’d asked you to stay. And that seemed to be the basis of the start of your relationship - Rafe asking you to stay. And you’d agreed.

“Hey (Y/N),” It’s Sarah that walks over to you, looking seemingly fed up of the Kook atmosphere already.

“Hey,” You try to smile back, pulling your eyes away from Rafe.

“Everything okay?” She frowns, standing beside you at the bar.

“Your brother,” You roll your eyes, resting your chin on your hands in front of you.

“When isn’t he the problem?” She laughs, “What’s he done this time?”

“I don’t think he’s done anything, I think he’s mad at me but I don’t know what I’ve done,” You shake your head, “He won’t even look at me.”

Before you can say anything else, JJ and Kie come over to the two of you, JJ dressed in his full server outfit - convincing everyone but you guys that he might actually work here. You’d been friends with JJ since he’d met John B and you spent basically all of your life with him.

“Please tell me this will be over soon,” Kie groans, shifting the material of her silk dress over her torso, “I hate this.”

You were wearing a dark green dress that Rafe had picked out of the three options you found in Sarah’s closet of unworn clothes. It hugged your figure and sat perfectly around your chest, flowing down in silk over your shoes.

“I don’t recognise you when you look like this (Y/N),” JJ points out, taking your drink and finishing the rest of it, “Very… kook.”

You roll your eyes and hit at his chest, “Grow up JJ, I’m pretty sure this is the first time I’ve seen you in proper clothes ever.”

He grabs your hand when you push him and pulls you in as if he’s about to twist your arm. But an all too familiar voice cuts between you.

“Hey, waiter,” Rafe shouts, “My drink’s looking close to empty, get me another.”

JJ drops your arm and looks at Rafe with a clenched jaw, “Get it yourself.”

“I don’t think you want to talk like that to me here,” Rafe lets out a laugh, the kind that comes from deep in his chest, “These are my people, not yours.”

“Rafe stop it,” You sigh, trying to step between him and JJ before this escalates further.

“So why don’t you get the fuck out of here, and leave my people, and my girlfriend, alone?” Rafe’s words are cold, calculated, separate from so much of what you knew of your boyfriend.

You push JJ back and stand between the two of them, turning your body to look directly at Rafe, but his eyeline falls above you and looks over at JJ still, “Rafe, leave it out.”

He doesn’t look at you, walking away with that tension in his shoulders that didn’t seem to leave.

“For fuck’s sake,” You mutter under your breath, “I’m sorry JJ.”

He laughs, dragging a hand through his hair, “Come on (Y/N) we all know you’re the only Pogue he doesn’t hate, that’s not going to change.”

You take a deep breath and look towards the direction that Rafe had just stormed out to, “I’ve got to go, I’ll see you guys later, okay?”

“Let us know if you need anything (Y/N),” Sarah calls out from behind you, the only one of any of them that was somewhat close to being able to understand Rafe.

~~~

You know he’s back at the house, and you’re thankful he’s thought enough to not lock the door behind him. It’s dark in the mansion and it’s eerie when you’re alone like this. You follow the steps upstairs towards his room, relieved when you catch the sight of the light on.

“Rafe?”

“Get out (Y/N), go back to the party,” His voice is cold, harsh.

“Rafe what the fuck have I done?”

“Nothing, just go back.”

He still won’t look at you.

“Nothing? You won’t talk to me, won’t touch me, won’t look at me, you haven’t since we got to that fucking party. You asked me to go and then spend the whole night ignoring me? What the fuck is this?” You’re raising your voice without thinking about it, the anger fuelling the fire in your veins.

“Just leave it (Y/N), I’m fine,” He tugs off the tie from around his neck, “I’ll talk to you later.”

“So that’s what this is now? We don’t even fight it out?” You scoff, “I’m not doing this with you Rafe. I’m not having you make me feel like shit all night, ignore me completely, embarrass me in front of my friends, and then tell me you’ll ‘talk to me later’.”

You try to stop your lips from wobbling, stop your hands from trembling, stop your burning desire to fall into his arms.

“(Y/N), don’t act like you don’t see how people look at you,” He shakes his head.

“No, fuck you, Rafe,” You shake your head, letting the tears bubble in your eyes, “You want to talk about people looking at me? Maybe people were looking at me because you were ignoring me all night!”

“You fucking love it, it’s like all eyes on you, and you don’t do anything to stop it!”

“Are you kidding me? Are you taking the fucking piss Rafe?” You’re fully yelling now, “Who do you think you are? No, who do you think I am?”

He’s quiet.

“I’m not dealing with this,” There are tears spilling over your cheeks now, staining them with the running of your mascara, “If you think I love other people looking at me so much, maybe I should go to one of them, because they certainly wouldn’t spend an entire night ignoring me.”

“(Y/N)!” He calls, watching as you turn on your heel to walk back out of the house.

As you’re just reaching the front door, his scream rips through the house, enough to make you flinch. Your heart is forcing you to go back, but you defy it, closing the front door behind you and walking back out into the dark.

~~~

You’re not sure how long you’ve been down by the beach, listening to the repetitions of waves over the sand, the hum of Midsummers still going on behind you, the silence that always remains after a fight.

In all of the arguments you’d had, it never ended with you storming out. You’d argue, and yell, and disagree, until eventually you didn’t. You would meet in the middle, admitting when you were wrong, and explaining when you knew you were right. But it worked both ways and, that was the thing, it always worked. You’d be mad at each other until he told you he loved you and you told him you’d love him tomorrow, he’d laugh and know that you meant it, that you’d always forgive him.

Today felt different. Rafe felt like he was arguing with himself whilst he was arguing with you, and you weren’t going to listen to him accuse you of things he knew you’d never do.

You pull your knees up to your chest and wrap your arms around yourself as the chill starts to pick up a little over the beach, sending a shiver through your skin.

That’s when you hear him, stumbling steps over the sand until eventually they stop beside you.

“Can I sit?”

You take a deep breath and nod, still looking out over the water to avoid falling into the gaze of his eyes. Rafe takes a seat in the space beside you, so close that his arm brushes yours. Without a second thought, he pulls the suit jacket from around him and wraps it over your shoulders, his hands lingering there for a moment. You instinctively pull the material around you, breathing in the scent of his his aftershave that clung to the lapels.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N),” He sighs, and you’re sure you can hear a tremble in his voice, “I didn’t mean what I said back there. I’m not saying I didn’t think it, but I shouldn’t have said it the way I did.”

“Why did you think that though, Rafe?” You shake your head, still not looking at him directly.

“It’s not because of you. It’s everyone else. I see the way they look at you, it’s like as soon as you’re there, they all look at you like prey,” He clenches his jaw, “And I hate it, and then I see them and I think why isn’t it them that you’re with.”

“Is that why you started on JJ?”

“I shouldn’t have done that, I know,” He nods, “I’ll apologise to him.”

You can’t help but laugh, “No you won’t.”

He laughs too, and for a moment that’s all there is.

“I don’t want to lose this (Y/N), but the more I think of that, the more I convince myself that I am going to lose it, and that terrifies me,” He drags a hand through his hair, “I get if you’re still mad at me, I’ll walk you home if you don’t want to stay.”

You take in a deep breath and exhale, moving your head to rest on his shoulder, “The problem is, Rafe, I’m the only one that can put up with you.”

As if he is worried you’ll slip away, he wraps an arm around your waist and grips you tightly, his head turning to breath in the scent of your hair, “I love you, (Y/N).”

You hum in response, nuzzling your head into his neck more, “I’ll love you in the morning.”

He kisses the top of your hair, once, twice, three times, letting his lips linger on the third, “Do you want to go back to mine?”

“No.”

You can feel the panic coarse through him, like he’s worried this time is still different than the rest, that he’d be going to bed alone thinking of everything he shouldn’t have said.

“I want to stay here,” You mumble, snuggling into the warmth he seemed to radiate, reaching your arms around him.

Rafe laughs and it rumbles through his chest against you, pulling you as close to him as he can get you to be.

~~~

The following morning, you wake up to the sun. Rafe’s jacket is still draped over you, your head resting on the rise and fall of his chest. Your legs are tangled in his, and his arms are gripping you tighter than ever, his eyes still shut.

You reach up and press a kiss to his jaw, the closest to his lips that you can reach from this angle. He looks so peaceful when he sleeps, so innocent compared to what everyone else thought they knew of Rafe - because nobody else got to see him like this, like you did.

He hums against your touch, his body waking up before his eyes have the strength to open. When he can just about muster the strength, he pokes one eye open to look at you, stretching one arm away from you and tucking it under his head, “Do you love me now?”

You laugh, kissing his jaw three more times, “I do.”

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gucciwins · 10 months

Text

something new

wembley brings love and celebration

Word count: 5190

A/N: posting something for the first time in months (since april) and I am very excited for you to read. please let me know what you think. I enjoyed writing and promise I'm already working on the next thing 💜 asks

_____

Wembley Stadium.

It’s a place you had heard many stories about and even attended a show in 2019 as a gift for your father to watch his favorite band, Fleetwood Mac. This entire week has been remarkable, but tonight is the final night. You are here supporting your boyfriend, Harry, and because it’s the last night, there will be a celebration after with the attendance of everyone who knows Harry from family, friends, and workers.

When you first met Harry, you didn’t know he was Harry Styles. Many people would ask how you could not recognize the Harry Styles, but when you met him, he had a full beard and hair full of messy curls. He was dressed in mini running shorts wearing a black jumper and bright running shoes. The reason you spoke to him was his shoes. This brand is known for its style of color combination and lightness in weight, making it the running shoe. You had been debating buying a pair, and his looked well-loved. It wouldn’t hurt to hear an opinion from someone who wasn’t an online user.

“Excuse me,” you called out softly behind him.

He jumps and moves away from the counter. “Sorry, was I in your way?”

You do your best not to melt hearing his deep voice; it was comforting for some odd reason. You smile and shake your head. “No, uh, actually. I’m sorry to bother you. This is actually such a silly question now.” You pause, debating walking away while you can, but he encourages you to continue. “It’s about your shoes. Are the Hoka’s worth it? The online reviews have not been able to convince me, and I’ve read too many articles at this point. Yours look like they’ve seen a few miles,” you point out.

Harry looks down at his shoes and laughs, “so they do.” He meets your eye, stepping closer and away from the counter. “I’m on my fourth pair,” he confesses sheepishly.

You wince, knowing the price for these shoes is not cheap. “Are you constantly running? Are they easily worn out?”

His face reddens, and he fiddles with his necklace. “No, uh…I like having more options to match my outfits.”

You laugh, “that makes sense.” You pause. “Does that mean picking my first pair will be harder? I saved for one pair, and my pocket will hurt if I decide to bite the bullet.”

“I debated a few choices at my computer and ultimately bought two pairs. They were orange and yellow. Bondi are a good first choice.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You notice the barista, Lily sliding a coffee on the counter and gesturing it’s his, meaning it’s time for you to go. “Sorry for bothering you, but this was very helpful. Sorry, I never got your name. I’m Y/N.”

“Harry. It was no bother.”

You doubt that.

“Bye, Harry.” You collect your bag and walk out, knowing you were going to overthink buying these shoes, and Harry would never leave your mind.

To no surprise, you’re back at your favorite coffee shop the following day, but this time dressed in your favorite jeans and a cardigan your grandma helped you knit over the summer last year. It’s pastel pink with flowers placed randomly all over. You didn’t dress cute for a guy. You dressed cute for yourself. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. Lily is a good friend, and after walking your iced latte to your table, she sat down for a moment.

“Nice conversation yesterday?” She ponders.

“Mhm…nice fellow.”

“Was surprised you bothered him?”

You look at her, confused. “Was it rude of me?”

“Some would say so.”

“I’m confused. We talked about shoes. What did I do wrong?”

Lily stares at you, trying to see if you’re joking. “Y/N, be serious.”

“I am.”

She looks around, leaning closer. “You spoke to Harry Styles. Popstar sensation. Most loved man on the earth.” Lily sees you processing her words, and before you can make rebuttals, she pulls her phone out and shows you a photo of Harry, the guy you met, under a Harry Styles update page.

“Well, shit!”

“Yeah, he at least looks interested in your conversation.”

You roll your eyes, “geeze, Lily, thanks for making it seem like it’s awful to talk with me.”

“Not what I meant,” she apologizes.

“It’s fine. The beard threw me off.”

“He’s a regular here. Comes every other day.” Lily excuses herself needing to get back to work, and with that reassurance, he wouldn’t be coming in; you enjoy your coffee.

You took out your laptop and began to work while keeping an eye on the door. Pretty soon, you got deep into your research and didn’t even notice when the door chimed, signaling someone knew had entered.

“You look really focused. Are you working?” Harry had walked up to your table, startling you.

The truth was you were not working, although you should have been; it was a Wednesday morning. You feel your cheeks warm up, knowing you’ve been caught. “Won’t lie to you, Harry. I’m looking at shoes.” You turn your screen to let him see you have a page pulled up for running shoes with multiple open tabs.

Harry laughs in surprise and gestures to the empty seat to join you. You move your bag, and he happily slides in. You move your laptop closer to him, giving him a better view.

“Those are cute.” You had been looking at a lilac pair.

“Right! But look at these.”

Harry frowns when you switch the screen to display a cherry-pink design. “Now, that’s a tough choice.”

“Ugh…I know. I’ve been alternating back and forth.”

“Okay, close your eyes,” he orders.

You look at him skeptically but do as he says.

“It’s a sunny day which is just a miracle here in London,” you laugh, and he continues. “You’re out on a walk deciding where to go for the day when a stranger points out your shoe is untied. You bend down to tie it. Now what color are your shoes?”

“Purple,” you answer without thinking.

“Well, there you go.”

“That was helpful, Harry. Thank you. Are you a therapist or something?”

“In another life, I would be.”

“Well, what do you do now?” You ask, genuinely interested.

Harry looks at you, confused as if you’re really asking the question. “I sing for a living. Uh…” he feels embarrassed sharing this for some reason. “I go on stage and perform.”

You frown, looking at him closer. “From my eye level, you look like a rugged Harry Styles.”

Harry looks amused. “Rugged. Huh, I thought the beard was good.”

“It is,” you quickly agree. “Sorry, I’m used to seeing videos of him—well, you clean-shaven.”

“I’m on a break. It’s a nice way to let go.”

Right.

You were at a crossroads now because you liked Harry. He was friendly and easy to speak with, but would this new information change everything for you?

“Maybe we can go on a run when your shoes arrive?” Harry suggested.

Your eyes lit up, “really?”

“Mhmm…I like running around the park.”

“Oh, I love finding new trails,” you gushed. “I bet you have found the best-hidden roads.”

Harry shrugs, “we’ll have to see.”

“Uh… I’m sorry for not recognizing you. I don’t know if that was weird or not.” You decide to apologize.

“You’re fine, Y/N. When you came up to me, I thought you wanted a photo, but clearly, my shoes were more interesting,” he teased. “It was nice being just Harry.”

You smile sheepishly at him, “you’re still Harry to me. Feel like you’ll turn into Harry Styles when you’re clean-shaven on stage.”

“Not for a few weeks, then. I have shows in Los Angeles at the end of January,” he tells you because he wants to bask in being just Harry for a few weeks more.

“Oh, fun,” you wiggle your eyebrows at him.

“Mhmm…” Harry waits for you to ask more, but instead, you turn the conversation to his workout routine.

From then on, conversation flows easily. You tell Harry you’re the oldest of three. Two younger brothers who live to embarrass you whenever they get the chance but love when you drive them around. You tell him about your job in publishing and that you worked your way up to being an editor. It’s a job you love dearly. Harry lets you ramble on, asking questions and wanting to learn more. He learns you’re allergic to mushrooms. Your first tattoo was a cherry you got at eighteen on an impulsive night out. That you’re the only family member in generations to be born left-handed.

Harry shares that he loves to travel because it gives him a place to miss and come home. He loves his sister and calls her his best friend. That he’s too competitive and loves a long game of Scrabble. He dreams of having a pet dog but does not want to commit when his life is on the road. You mention your family dog, Woodstock, named after the iconic yellow bird from the Peanuts comics. A yellow Labrador who runs up to strangers, always asking for belly rubs. You promise to take him to visit.

Your friendship with Harry grew from there. You would meet most mornings outside the coffee shop for a run and then for a coffee that turned into hours of conversation. You liked Harry and reckoned you liked him more than a friend, but there was no way you would change that dynamic and instead settle to be his friend. When Harry showed up one day clean-shaven, you were taken aback because it made him look younger, and it was as if you were seeing him for the first time.

“Don’t recognize me anymore,” he teases.

“I could spot those green eyes in a sea of people,” you promise him.

Come April, a shift in your dynamic happened. Harry wanted you to work out with him and his trainer. You thought he was crazy, but really Harry was dying for you to meet his friends. They couldn’t stop teasing him that you were made up.

“Harry!”

You both turned and found a man in a white shirt and shorts, similar to Harry, approaching you. Harry welcomed him in a hug before going to stand next to you. “This is Y/N. Y/N, Brad.”

Brad shot you a smile, “pleasure to meet you.”

“You as well.”

“It’s nice to put a face to a name. He can’t shut up about you,” Brad confesses.

“Oi! Stop that.” Harry frowns, but you can tell he doesn’t mind.

You end up having the worst workout of your life. Brad, not taking a moment of pity for you until he finally called it quits an hour later. You threw yourself on the grass, closed your eyes, and took slow breaths. You heard Harry laughing above you but did not acknowledge him.

“Come on, petal. I’ll buy you a coffee,” Harry offered.

You peeked one eye open, “and a scone?”

“I’ll get you all the goods you want,” Brad chimes in. “You were a trooper out there.”

“Fuck, I never want to work out with you again,” you huff.

“Don’t think we will if he has a say,” Brad points to Harry. “Never seen him so angry.”

“She’s my friend. Didn’t want to explain her death to her parents.”

After that, it seemed you only saw more of each other until one night at your home, Harry made a move you didn’t see coming. After the film finished, Harry turned serious.

“Y/N?”

“Harry, what is it?” You ask, concerned.

“I like you.”

You sigh in relief, “gosh, you scared me. I like you too, silly. You’re my best friend.”

Harry shakes his head. “You’re not listening to me.”

“Heard you loud and clear.”

He sighs, frustrated. “These last few months as your friend have been amazing. I feel so lucky you approached me to talk about shoes. While I enjoy being your friend every time we get together, these feelings I have continue to grow, and I can no longer keep them to myself. I like you, and I want to see where this goes.”

You sit there shocked because you never expected Harry to reciprocate your feelings, but he is pouring his heart out for you. “Harry,” you breathed out. “I-I-I like you too. I have for some time, but I didn’t want to lose you.”

“Me either, but Brad said a person as amazing as you would not wait around for me.”

You laugh, “tell him I’m a fool because I think I would have waited a lifetime for you.”

“I know it’s too soon to ask you to be my girlfriend seeing as we haven’t been on a date, but—”

You interrupt him. “Why can’t we say this is our first date? If we think about it, every time we have spent together could be considered a date.”

“Do you end a first date with a kiss?” He asks sheepishly.

“Only if it’s you,” you promise him.

When your wine-stained lips meet his, you feel a wave of peace surround you knowing that it might be soon, but the universe sent Harry to you. He was your other half. He made you better. You pulled him closer, loving the closeness this kiss brought you. Harry sighed, ending the kiss. You went in for a second kiss needing more of him for a little longer.

“Petal, baby. I’m here,” he spoke against your lips.

You giggled out of breath. “Sorry, I think I like you a little too much.”

Harry leaned his forehead against you. “I feel the same.”

“Good, let’s kiss some more and then have a sleepover.”

“Don’t you think it’s too soon, petal?” Harry asked.

You frowned, “you slept here two nights ago.”

Harry sighed, “you’re right.”

It wasn’t until a week later you made it official. Life was perfect, and you were happy. Harry knew starting a relationship as he began touring wasn’t the smartest option, but he was close to home and promised to check in at every chance. In each city he visited, he picked up a souvenir for you as a reminder he was thinking of you. It was cheesy, but he wrote you postcards from each city because even though they wouldn’t arrive quickly, they would remind you of him when you did receive them. It only made you like him more and knew you were falling in love quickly. There was no stopping it.

While you joined him at his special show at Slane Castle, you didn’t have the chance to meet many of his family, mainly only the band. They welcomed you with open arms, and how Harry never stops talking about you. It made you nervous. You hoped to live up to his words because these people and his band members meant the world to Harry.

____

Now being here to celebrate four sold-out nights at Wembley, it felt overwhelming knowing Harry’s entire family and friends from his childhood would be here. You’ve known Harry for months but loved him like he’s always been yours. It was a joyous day, but even that wouldn’t take away your nerves for the final night of seeing Harry shine on stage.

“No one is going to believe I didn’t recognize you when we first met,” you tell him as the driver drove down a road that arrives at the back of Wembley, away from the crowd.

“Course they will.”

You give him a deadpan look, “you’re basically the face of the UK. A prince, some would say.” You sit up and clear your throat. “Oh, how’d we meet. Well, I met him at a coffee shop and asked him about his shoes.” You rolled your eyes, “sounds fake to me.”

“Good thing it’s the truth. Plus, I thought you were cute. Would have never worked up the courage to walk up to you, though.”

“Stop. You’re only saying that.”

“Nope, I mean it. Brad and the band like you.”

“I hope they do,” you muttered. “Only people I’ve met now. I’m meeting everyone.”

“You met Mum and Gem,” Harry reminds you. “Spent time with them for three nights.”

You sigh because, for a moment, you feel Harry doesn’t understand how overwhelming this is. Everyone here knows Harry. They know Harry from Holmes Chapel, and they know the amazing person he is. You feel happy to know and love him, but they’ve got a lifetime of Harry, and you’ve got months. It differs for everyone because you would move mountains to ensure he was happy. Except, everyone doesn’t know that. They don’t know you.

“Y/N, petal will you look at me,” he begs softly.

You take a deep breath and allow yourself to meet his emerald eyes. Harry takes in the worry shining bright, and smiles. “Petal, I love you. I know you love me. You remind me every moment we’re together and when I’m away. I don’t doubt it. My family knows you, maybe not your physical form, but they have heard stories and seen endless pictures. They will love you because I love you. If you get overwhelmed, you can always sit back and watch, they’ll understand. Most importantly, I will understand. I wish I could hold you as Mum introduces you to everyone. I told her to hold off, but she’s excited. Brad will be on the floor, and I know you enjoy that. You’re in safe hands.”

“I love you. Thank you. I know it’s your day, and I’m making it all about me.”

Harry shushes you, “hey, hey. We’re a team. Your feelings are just as important as mine. Now give me a kiss.”

You loved him, simple as that. He was the missing piece in your life.

___

The show was like no other. Harry, from the moment he got on stage, radiated happiness. The fans were the loudest they had been all week, filling you with so much joy. Anne told you to join her at the family box, but you decided to be on the floor as close to Harry as possible by the Jonny pod; you noticed Harry favored the side more, knowing his dear friend was in the audience tonight. From surprise songs to dancing and Mitch receiving his Grammy, you knew it would be a night you would never forget. As Harry began his encore with “Sign of the Times,” the rain started falling, and so did your tears. The fact that over 90 thousand people were here for Harry said enough. They chose to spend their evening with him, and he delivered to make it memorable.

You didn’t even notice that Brad captured a photo of you staring at Harry on stage with a giant smile and hands over your heart you would only see later when Harry made it his lock screen. Harry thanks the crowd for a magical night stating over and over again that he’s never been happier.

Brad wraps an arm around you and walks you towards Harry, who’s sharing long hugs and meaningful words with his bandmates. This is the man you love, and there’s nothing you’d change about it. You followed Harry to the dressing room, wanting a moment alone before the madness. Harry bounces around quickly to change, removing the overalls and shimming them down his waist. He slips on shorts, throws on a random shirt, and puts on his new Adidas Love on Tour sweater with his initials.

You lean against the door admiring him in all his glory. He didn’t bother for a shower, too eager to see everyone.

“I’m proud of you,” you whisper. “I know it might not mean much, but I am.”

Harry pauses, finishes tying his shoe, and walks over to you. He stops before you, his hands finding a home on your cheeks. “It means the world. Don’t ever think it doesn’t. We might only have been together for two months, but my heart has loved you my entire life. You being here is enough. I could feel your love from the stage.”

He connects your lips together, and you melt against him. Harry breathes life into you, and you never want him to stop. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, Harry. So much.”

“Good. Let’s go mingle.” You move away from the door and make your way outside when he tugs you back in. “Forgot one last thing.”

He hurries over to his bag, pulls out an identical sweater, and hands it to you. You accept it moving and look it over. Your eyes quickly find your initials on the right side, similar to his.

“Harry—this isn’t necessary.”

Harry shrugs, “it was your idea.”

You don’t fight him as he slips off your red leather jacket and helps you slip on the thin material. He fixes the collar making sure none of your hair is tucked under. Harry decides you look good, giving you a pat on the butt. “Now we can go.”

Harry held your hand as you walked over to the area Jeff had set up for the celebration. He mentioned there would be another location later in the night, but it would be good to let the crowds outside die out. On your walk over, Harry told you about outfits and signs he saw in the crowd. How overwhelmed he came when the rain came down. He felt at home.

You expressed how much fun you had, told Harry how Jeff and Tommy taught you the boot scoot during “Treat People,” and assured him many videos of your failed attempt were taken. Harry paused outside the door where you could hear the loud chatter, and you knew what was waiting for you behind those doors. Harry shoots you a look, and you give him a reassuring smile letting him know it’s okay to go in.

The cheers are loud when the man of the hour walks in. Everyone was quick to gather around him. You try to sneak away, but his grip on your hand stays tight. Every person who thanks him, he makes sure to introduce you.

“Love, go celebrate. It’s alright. I’ll be fine,” you tell him in a low voice.

Harry shakes his head, instead kissing you and pulling you along to meet and chat with new people. You felt a bit overwhelmed, but everyone has been so sweet. They asked where you were from? Scotland. What was your job? An editor. How did you meet? Coffee Shop. How proud were you? Immensely.

You kept trying to hang back, but Harry seemed to notice when you drifted away. He would kiss you and ask for your input in the conversation. You told him you were getting a drink and would be back momentarily, except you got a vodka cranberry and hid in a corner. Harry found you when your drink was half gone.

“Babyyy,” he called out. “Missed you.”

You felt your cheeks heat up as he wrapped himself around you. He moved you away from the wall, making you face the crowd, his hands around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“I love you,” he whispered.

You lean against him, happy to be wrapped in his arms, feeling safe. “I love you, bub.”

Harry takes a sip of your drink and hums at the bitterness of the cranberry. He knows you’re a social drinker because it allows you to relax and not be as anxious. You and Harry get lost in your world as you let him talk your ear off. He tells you about people around the room, who they are, and how they’ve helped them. Surprisingly, Harry can name everyone in the room, though it shouldn’t shock you much. It’s just the type of person he is.

Your boyfriend is an affectionate person. He loves having a hand on the small of your back or your hand in his. He wants to be close because he says he wants makeup when he’s away. Some would say it makes him look clingy, but lucky for you, you love his touch; it’s comforting. You could feel his smile against your skin as he planted kisses on your face.

Even while in your corner, people come up to you. When they see Harry begin to kiss your shoulder or whisper in your ear, they excuse themselves. You can’t help but feel you are keeping Harry from celebrating with everyone, not realizing he’s happy to celebrate with you in his arms.

“Harry! Sue!” Is yelled from across the room. You see a short, dirty-haired blonde yell and wave for him, but Harry is too busy peppering kisses all over your neck to realize.

“Bubby, love. They’re calling for you.”

He hums against your neck. “I’m perfect here.”

You sigh because the yelling continues, and you’re starting to feel overwhelmed because he’s not celebrating. Instead, Harry is ensuring you’re not nervous, which seems like the most boring job in the world. He should be taking shots with friends and telling stories about the last four nights.

“Go on, I’ll be right behind you,” you promise him.

Harry tightens his hold on you, “baby, you sure?”

“Yes, no go. I’ll even bring you a drink.”

“Te–”

“Tequila neat,” you tease. “I know you.”

Harry pecks your lips once, twice, and a third time before making his way across the room, but not before looking over his shoulder one last time at you. You shoot him a wink and exaggerate, looking at his bum and making him laugh. He moves his hips a little extra just for you. As Harry easily falls into the conversation, you use this moment as an opportunity for a breather.

You were alone for around five minutes when you heard footsteps coming your way. You were in a corridor that led you out to the stage if you continued walking down but stopped halfway, knowing no one would come this way. You were wrong.

Harry is who you expected to see, but to your surprise, it’s Gemma, his older sister.

“Hi,” you greet softly. The conversations with Gemma have been short, but from what you can tell, she’s wise beyond her years and always ready to listen.

“You okay?” She asks, straight to the point.

“A bit loud,” you gesture towards the hallway where the music can still be heard.

She nods, “I get that.” Gemma looks around before moving to stand next to you shoulder to shoulder. “Are you okay?” She asks again.

You sigh, “I—i-i.”

“A bit much for a family gathering.”

“A bit,” you exhale, knowing Gemma understands what you might be feeling.

“It’s the perfect opportunity, I feel. I did forget how overwhelming it was. I don’t even remember my boyfriend’s first family gathering.”

“Are you saying I won’t remember this in a few years?”

“Oh, you’re never forgetting tonight.” She smirks, “unless you keep drinking.”

You scrunch your nose at the thought. “Better not.”

The two of you stand in silence, and you know it’s because Gemma is giving you a minute to gather your thoughts.

“I just—I love Harry. I do. I hope you don’t doubt that, but I don’t know how to celebrate when you’ve all been here for him every step of the way. Year after year.”

Gemma deflates, “oh, Y/N.”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have—” Gemma cuts you off.

“It’s okay,” she assures you. “It’s difficult because of his job, not because of who he is. But trust me when I say he loves you.” Gemma’s words are firm, and you believe her. As an older sister, you would do anything to protect your siblings but never lie to someone important.

“Harry talks about you every chance he gets. Did you know Y/N ran a marathon? She’s swam with sharks in a reservation center. Y/N’s CPR certified. She edited and helped publish five number-one books this year,” Gemma rambles off. “We all know so much because he’s proud and wants to share it with those close to him.”

“I-I didn’t know.” You let all of this process, but it’s a shock because some of the things Gemma listed mean nothing, but clearly, to him, mean everything.

“Everyone in that room,” Gemma points over her shoulder, “knows who you are and what you mean to him.”

“Everyone?” You whisper. It doesn’t feel real. You’d never been so loved, and it might be why you’re feeling overwhelmed because he wants to bask in your love. It’s not a show; it’s simply his way of showing he loves you in front of everyone he cares about.

“Celebrate how you want but know all we want is to see him happy. It’s clear as day that you make him happy. This is the happiest I’ve seen him, and it’s because of you. Maybe even happier than selling out Wembley.”

“Thank you, Gemma.” She hugs you tight, and it’s so familiar yet different from Harry’s. His is light and full of love, while Gemma’s is tight and warm. “He wrote you a beautiful song.” You’re referring to “Sweet Creature,” which he dedicated to her tonight.

“It’s a special one. Don’t worry. I hear you’ll be getting yours soon enough,” she teases. “I’ll see you inside.”

A few seconds later, someone else joins you. It’s as if your body knows who it is without seeing them because you feel the familiar flutter in your stomach as his smell wraps around you.

“Baby, where did you go?” Harry whines. Baby is a term of endearment that comes out a lot when he’s had more than one to drink. It’s your favorite during these times.

“I’m here,” you open your arms, and he happily falls in your embrace. “I’m proud of you, love.” You run a hand through the back of his head, keeping him close.

“Thank you, baby.”

“Like really proud. You’re so loved. What you do is incredible. I feel so lucky to be able to love you.”

Harry pulls back, and you see his beautiful eyes glistening with tears threatening to fall soon. “I love you.”

You press your lips against his and put all your love into the kiss. You wish you could spend the rest of the night kissing him, but there is more celebrating to do. Harry doesn’t let you pull away, instead deepening the kiss. You melt against him, forgetting your worries and enjoying this moment with him. A moment only for the two of you to remember.

“Let’s keep celebrating, my love,” you whisper against his lips.

“Still nervous?” He checks.

“Only a smidge.”

Harry smiles, “that’s okay. I’ll hold your hand.”

“You won’t let go?”

“Never,” he promises.

As you return to the party holding tight to his hand, he asks an important question. “Can I keep kissing you?”

Your laugh rings loud, echoing through Harry’s heart. You bring your hand up to rest at the back of his neck and pull him down for a kiss. “As much as you like.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #harry blurb #harry styles concept #harry styles fluff #harry styles love on tour #love on tour Wembley #love on tour blurbs #harry styles girlfriend #fluff

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ughgoaway · 7 months

Text

playing on my mind

content warnings: swearing, referring to Matty as tall (look we all lie for plot purposes okay), dilf Matty and rushed writing... i think that's it? word count- 3.3k ish

a/n: woah this was quick but I am nothing if not impulsive!! this is just a one-shot but if y'all want a series I might do one?? idk it depends on how inspired I am lol. but yes this is just my little blurb-thing from yesterday fleshed out into an actual story!! I'm so glad people liked the idea, I hope this doesn't disappoint <333

(I didn't proofread this so I apologise if its utterly shit </3)

“And off you go! If you need your pencils sharpened or help, make sure you raise your hand! I’ll come to see you!” You say to the group of 30 little balls of energy in front of you. 60 eyes looking up at you might seem intimidating to most, but when it's a hyperactive group of 5-year-olds; the fear wears off slightly.

It was family tree week in your classroom, and you had given your little ones the usual task of drawing their family, each set up with pieces of paper and various pencils and pens to create their masterpieces. Seeing them smile and talk about their older sisters and brothers or how much they love their parents always warmed your heart.

You originally got into teaching with every intention of working with teenagers. You were sure you shouldn't be moulding such young minds - you were never sure your mind was a very good example. But one test week in a year 1 classroom changed your outlook entirely. Seeing the pure, unadulterated joy on a young child's face was something beyond comparison.

Getting to watch them grow and develop into little people brought you so much happiness that it could never compare to standing in front of a group of grumpy teenagers. Each teen boy clearly trying to get you over to their desk to “flirt” with you, well as much firting as a 15-year-old boy can do.

Seeing a child come out of their shell, make friendships, and discover their passions made your heart warm in a way nothing else did. So as soon as you qualified you jumped at the opportunity to teach these little ones, this class might be your first but you are sure it will always be your favourite.

And of course, despite what every teacher tells you, they have a favourite student. You were adamant when you began that you really wouldn't have a favourite but then little Annie Healy came bounding into your classroom with a mop of curly hair, untamable energy and the cutest slightly wonky smile you've ever seen.

She very quickly stole your heart, always wanting to tell you stories and going off on tangents rather quickly, organising tea parties but soon getting distracted leaving you at a small table surrounded by teddy bears giving a toast. Her little body seemed to be filled with enough energy to power the world 3 times over, and you couldn't love her anymore. The idea that she would be leaving your class broke your heart every time you thought about it, despite people telling you not to get attached - you did,

You had just settled at your desk after explaining for the 4th time to Zach that sticking pencils up our noses isn't a very good idea. You ended up telling him if he pushed too far, he'd touch his brain, and soon after that, the pencils stayed firmly in his hand rather than up any nose. If any student was the problem child, it was him. You couldn't hate any student, but let's just say he's given you one too many impromptu haircuts this year to be in line for your favourite.

Soon your real favourite student stuck her arm into the air and wiggled it around in an attempt to get you to see her sooner, little Annie Healy was ever impatient- a trait that is only endearing on her. You quickly nodded and started wandering over, trying not to laugh at her large toothy grin back at you.

“Hi sweetheart, do you need some help?” you say, crouching down to her eye level, flashing a sweet smile.

“Hi miss y/n!” she began, her eyes flittering around your face before landing on your hair, and soon, her hands were stroking your head.

“Wow! I like your hair! It's got sparkly clips in it! You know I asked my daddy for some like that, and he said-” you gently placed a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to stop the tangent before it started. You knew she'd somehow end up keeping you there for 20 minutes, giving you a detailed list of all of her Barbie dolls and their jobs if you didn't redirect her quickly enough.

“Thank you, Annie! I saw your arm wiggling in the air earlier. Did you need some help?” her eyes light up as she remembered why she called you over here.

“Oh! Yeah, I want to write what's in my daddy’s hands, but I don't know how to spell it. Will you help me?” she says, bringing her attention back to her drawing and grabbing the black pencil to continue her work. It's the first time you actually looked at her drawing, and to say you were concerned would be an understatement.

Most drawings of family consist of the same basic elements; a mum, a dad, a sun in the corner, and a house that is wildly disproportionate to everything else.

So imagine your surprise when you look down to see 4 men in what seems to be leather jackets, holding various musical instruments, and a very tall dog next to them.

You blink a few times. Just checking what you're seeing is right. The lineup starts with a tall man holding a guitar, next to a slightly shorter man also holding a guitar with a mess of black scribbles on his head. Next up is a very tall man with drumsticks in his hands and a kit behind him, and finally another very tall man with a beard and a bass. The concern briefly melts away as you consider how impressive it is she knows the difference. In the bottom left corner is a black dog with very long legs and a big pink tongue sticking out, the dog was almost as tall as the first man but you're aware kids aren’t known for their skill with proportion.

No one had prepared you for this in teaching school, there was never a lecture about what to do if one of your kids does a mildly troubling family drawing of 4 men in leather jackets and a horse dog. You try to stutter a response to Annie, but no real words are leaving your mouth. Just a jumble of sounds, each one sounding more confused and stressed than the last.

You flash a look at her only to be met with a confused head tilt and sad eyes. Oh god. She thought you hated her drawing. Shit.

Time for damage control.

You make the decision then and there not to ask her about the details of her drawing, desperately trying not to make her cry.

Maybe you could go and see her mum in the playground? Yes, that's what you'll do. You'll walk her out, have a brief discussion with Mum, and make sure Annie knows her family isn't 4 men in a band and then leave her be. That sounds like the professional thing to do.

You take a deep breath and smile at Annie, and soon her downturned lips flashed that cheesy grin you knew so well. You tighten your hand on her shoulder and grab a pen, ready to help her any way she needs.

“Do you mean the word ‘guitar’ Annie?” she gives you an excited nod as you continue speaking, “Ah yes, that's a really hard word for even grown-ups to spell. Let's work it out together, hmm?”

With your mind racing you help her sound it out and label her drawing, even stopping to sharpen her black colouring pencil for her- there's a lot of black for young girls drawing but she's committed to an aesthetic, and part of you respects that.

On the walk back to the desk, you begin practising your speech in your head, trying to figure out how to ask why she’s drawing a band as her family without unknowingly offending mum. Maybe she just really likes music?

You run through your memories trying to think of her mentioning a band before, but nothing comes to mind, Annie doesn't even stay on track long enough to talk about her family. Always seeing something shiny and discussing that instead.

You flick your eyes to her one more time just to see her animatedly talking with another little girl on her table, her hands gesticulating wildly and her curls bouncing as she tells her story.

The sight calms you slightly, seeing the little girl you know so well acting exactly as she should be. You have the fleeting thought that you might be overreacting, but eventually, you collect the drawings to see Annie had dated her work “1975”. Yup, that discussion with her parents was definitely happening.

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

The bell rings, and you manage to catch Annie just before she runs off into the playground without you, “Hi Annie! I have your drawing from today. Should we show it to mummy and daddy together?” her eyes light up as her curls bounce from her excited nods.

You walk hand in hand out onto the playground, crouching down you make eye contact with Annie before asking, “Can you point out your mum or dad Annie?”

She nods and begins scanning the playground. You stifle a laugh at the look of concentration on the young girl's face. Her nose is scrunched along with her eyebrows, one hand pulling at a curl by her ear and the other holding yours. Soon, you see her face brighten, and her eyes fill with joy.

“DADDY!!” is the scream that comes from the little girl as her hand shoots from her head to point to the corner of the playground, she starts dragging you before you even look up but as you do, you feel your heart drop.

As a student teacher, you'd definitely seen some hot dads, but they were still dads. Most were slightly creepy, partially balding, and talked about nothing but golf and their “annoying” wives. You were used to that kind of dad, not exactly this kind.

Standing nonchalantly in the corner of the playground was a tall man. A pile of salt and pepper curls sat on top of his head; untamed but effortlessly and obnoxiously cool. The white t-shirt he was wearing did nothing to hide the patchwork of tattoos that snaked up his arms. The low neck of the top even teased the top of his chest tattoo. Sunglasses sat on his face, they gave him an "I'm too cool" rocker vibe that, for some unknown reason, made you dizzy.

In one hand, he had a lit cigarette, something that was not allowed on school property, but the way his cheeks hollowed as he took a drag had you forgetting that rule completely. He dropped the butt of the cigarette to crush it with his heavy boots before taking a sip of the can of coke that was in his other hand.

As he noticed you coming over, a dazzling smile broke out on his face. You felt your knees weaken as you tried to brush off how hot he was.

You then realised you actually had to speak to this man. Fuck. You're not sure you even have a voice currently. If you opened your mouth, you're sure incoherent noises would come out, followed by wild hand motions trying to explain your insane behaviour.

The closer you got, the less you stared at him, feeling too intimidated to keep looking in his direction. This did mean you almost tripped 3 times, but you would rather fall than risk making eye contact with this intimidatingly attractive man.

Annie dropped your hand as you finally reached the man, and she jumped into his arms. He grunted at the force but soon began pressing kisses all over her face, smiling at her uncontrollable giggles.

Quickly, the man noticed your presence and stuck a hand out to introduce himself, “Hi! Sorry about that, you know what it's like when kids miss you. I’m Annie’s dad, Matty.”

And this is where a normal person would introduce themselves, stick their hand out, and shake Matty’s. Maybe even say their name and start talking, but oh no. Not you. You stood there motionless and just said “Matty” breathlessly to yourself 3 times over.

Time dragged on in the 10 seconds Matty stood there with his hand out. If you weren't aware of how time worked, you would swear you stood there in stilted silence for 10 minutes.

By some grace of god, little Annie Healy saved you and introduced you, “Daddy. This is Miss y/n. She wanted to come and show you my drawing."

Matty retracted his hand and pushed the sunglasses that sat on the bridge of his nose up to his mess of curls, just as wayward as his daughters. His deep brown eyes met yours as he tilted his head questioningly at your behaviour. His smile remained wide at you, his tongue swiped over his bottom lip, and you felt your heart stutter. A litany of inappropriate thoughts swirling through your mind.

He quickly diverted his attention back to his daughter, “Oh really munchkin? Is your drawing just that amazing? Is Miss y/n going to send it to all the museums?” he said whilst tickling her sides. You smiled at the pair of them watching Annie throw her head back with erratic laughter.

Finally, you manage to right yourself and begin speaking, “Right. Sorry about that, long day,” you explain, looking apologetically at Matty, who only nodded and tried to hide his widening smile at your flustered state.

“I'm just here to talk about Annie's drawing,” you pause briefly and look at Annie in her dad's arms. Not wanting to disappoint her, you form a plan in your mind. “Hey Annie, why don't you go practise some hopscotch! I'm just going to have a quick chat with your dad, okay?”

Before you’d even finished your sentence, Annie was wiggling out of her dad's arms and running off.

“She's got endless energy that one hasn't she?” you say wistfully, staring off in the direction she ran, watching her jump around and giggle with some of her friends.

“Ah like father like daughter, I suppose” Matty says, grinning at your clear love for his little girl. He feels his heart warm at your caring eyes. “So what seems to be the issue? I'm sure you're not over here because the Louvre has asked for Annie’s drawing?”

You laugh at Matty's joke, perhaps a little too hard. Nervous laughter was one of your less attractive traits, but you try to shake it off and have an actual adult conversation with Matty.

“Ah no, no phone calls from Paris yet,” you begin laughing lightly, you pull out Annie's drawing and pass it over to Matty and start to analyse his reaction as you finish speaking, “I was just coming over to ask why Annie's family portrait is seemingly a band? I wanted to make sure she knows her family isn't 4 tall men in leather jackets and a surprisingly tall horse dog.”

As you finish your sentence, Matty bursts out in hysterical laughter, folding over as his chortling laughter takes over his whole body. Your face scrunches up at his reaction, your eyebrows are pinched, and a small frown overtakes your features.

Eventually, Matty catches his breath and looks up at you only to realise how strange his reaction appears. His hand shoots up to your arm and begins to stroke it lightly as he attempts to explain himself.

Each featherlight stroke of his fingers made your breath hitch. You felt your eyes fogging over, and your ears felt as if they were stuffed with cotton wool, the surrounding sounds suddenly becoming muted.

A shake of your head brought you back to earth as you fought to focus on the words Matty was saying.

“Oh I'm so sorry, once you know the story you’ll understand my reaction” Matty began explaining with wide apologetic eyes, “basically Annie's mum isn't in the picture, it's just me and my 3 best friends,” he said smiling.

You lightly laugh and say, “Ah I'm assuming they are the man with the guitar, the one with the bass and the other with the drumsticks?” You finish with a teasing tilt of your head.

Matty's fingers encircle your wrist as that smile you've quickly grown to love appears on his face once again at your teasing.

“Yes those are the ones. You see we’re all in a band - hence all the instruments. I always tell Annie that Uncle George, Ross, and Adam are our family. So when you asked for a family drawing...”

“She drew her family!” You finish his sentence for him, staring at his hand and holding your wrist as you do. He quickly drops it, and you curse yourself for bringing it to his attention.

You wrap your arms around your stomach protectively in an attempt to hide your mounting embarrassment.

Matty smiles and starts to speak again, only to be interrupted by you, “Wait I understand that, but why did she date it ‘1975’?”

Somehow, Matty's smile grew again, “Our band is called the 1975. Weird, I know, but it comes from me being young and pretentious with a Jack Kerouac book.”

Before you could respond, Annie came bounding over and wrapped herself around her dad's leg, “Dadddd” she complained, pulling out the last letter to announce her annoyance to the world.

“Annieeee” Matty teased back in the same tone as her, picking her up as he did.

“Can we go home now? I want to see mayhem!!” she said, excitedly clapping her hands as she finished.

You shoot Matty a questioning look, and he quickly answers your silent query, “the horse dog” he says teasingly, parroting your earlier words back at you.

“Okay darling, let's get going then,” Matty says with a grunt, putting Annie down, grabbing her hand, and taking her backpack from her.

“Say bye to miss y/n Annie,” he says, smiling sweetly at you, but you can see the mischief brewing in his eyes.

His eyes keep your attention so long you almost miss Annie's sweet goodbye, “bye miss y/n! See you tomorrow! Can we talk about your sparkly clips tomorrow?” she asks with a tilt of her head.

“Of course, little miss Annie!” You say smiling at the young girl. You focus solely on her in an attempt not to get lost in her father's eyes again.

You watch them walk away but after a few steps they pause, Matty turns over his shoulder and waves with his free hand, “Bye miss y/n” he says with a teasing lilt to his voice and a flirty wink.

Before you can even process what just happened, he's strolling away casually, and all the mums in the playground are silently lusting after him.

A heavy breath leaves your chest as you start to watch him leave.

“Isn't he gorgeous” a voice behind you whispers, causing you to jump and let out a small scream. You hold a hand to your chest and look at your colleague with wild eyes.

“Oh my god, Amanda, please do not sneak up on me like that! I'm fragile” you say, now laughing at your ridiculous reaction.

“Sorry, sorry,” she begins giggling, “but isn't he just so hot? Annie was in my class last year, and I used to count down the days until parent’s evening! I mean, who wouldn't want to sit across a desk from a man who looks like that?” Amanda says, wiggling her eyebrows flirtatiously.

She begins to teasingly poke your sides at your awkward silence, and you quickly brush her off and straighten up, “Amanda! You can't talk like that about a parent!” You say, trying and failing to have any conviction in your voice.

“I can when the parent looks like that!” she says, smiling and watching Matty stroll away.

You huff at her behaviour and walk away, desperate to sit down and process what just happened.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your desk chair squeaks as you sit down behind your desk. You spin the chair and pick up a pen to begin marking some spelling tests from last week, but before long, you give up.

Staring off into space with endless thoughts poisoning your mind, only one thing can come out of your mouth.

“fuck."

#matty healy #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fic #matty healy fluff #matty x reader #matty healy x reader #the teacher reader obsession was too real #once again an obnoxious number of hashtags but we move #i hope you dont all hate this #unsurprisingly i do hate it <3 #teacher au!

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jjwantsme · 1 year

Text

34+35

j.m

pairing: jj maybank x kook!reader

summary: four times they couldn’t keep their hands off of each other, and the one time they were caught.

warnings: nsfw, piv, praise kink, oral (f receiving),boob sucking, public sex, spit, a little of sub!jj, degradation kink, cussing, let me know it i missed anything :)

authors note: this is my first actual smut on tumblr so PLEASE have some mercy on me 🥲

masterlist

y/n and JJ were truly obsessed with each other. not in a lovey-dovey cute way- i mean, that too- but in a lustful perverted way.

ever since the week they got together, the pogues couldn’t recall one day where the boy’s neck wasn’t covered in love bites, or where his cheeks didn’t have lipstick stains on them.

they thought- or should i say, hoped- that it was a honeymoon phase type of thing, that their sex life would calm down after the first few weeks of being together.

oh, how they were utterly wrong.

it’d now been a year and a half, and if anything, it’s gotten worse. much, much worse.

i know what you’re thinking. ‘it can’t be that bad!’

so, here i am, providing you five instances to prove just how bad it is.

the first time

“J, we don’t have time!” y/n squealed when her boyfriend had pinned her against the door.

“no worries,” JJ mumbled as he kissed down her neck, “i’ll be quick.”

y/n had missed her alarm, after a moan-filled night, making her late for work. and JJ wanted to let her get ready, he really did, but how can he resist her when she’s in those pajamas?

it wasn’t long before JJ had his hand wrapped around his long cock as he pulled her lace panties to the side, “jus’ woke up so needy for you, babe. need to feel you.”

y/n couldn’t do anything but whine and gasp in pleasure when she recognized the feeling of his length destroying the walls of her pussy, her nails immediately going to his tan back.

“fuck, JJ!”

“i know, i know,” JJ cooed as he slid all the way into her, “jus’ let me destroy this pussy real quick, yeah? you gonna let me do that?”

the girl choked out a moan as she nodded.

he kept a tight hold on her, her back still against the door, as he began bouncing her on his cock, a groan escaping his swollen pink lips.

“y’gonna make me cum if you keep squeezing me like that, princess,” he groaned, before letting out a much louder moan, letting a hand go down to grip her ass.

moans filled up the entire house, echoing throughout the walls as y/n made it known just how good she felt.

“please, please cum, please, i wanna feel it inside me so bad, please, J” she started begging, making his eyes rolls to the back of his head.

“wanna be your cockslut every morning, J, oh fuck- i’m gonna cum!-“ she chanted over and over.

“that’s it, cum on my cock, baby, make me happy,”

she granted his wish as she felt her orgasm wash over her, his following close behind as his cock twitched before releasing.

one last moan fell from y/n’s lips as the bouncing slowly came to a stop, their foreheads resting against each other as they tried to catch their breath.

“damn,” JJ breathed out. “you gotta start waking up late more often.”

the second time

“what about this one? is this dress okay?” y/n asked as she stepped out of the dressing room in yet another dress, JJ looking up from his phone and smiling at her.

“baby, you look like a goddess in everything you wear. how am i supposed to help you choose?”

y/n rolled her eyes but chuckled. “JJ, midsummer is in two days. two! i have to get a dress or my parents will be pissed; so you’re gonna have to start being more detailed with your reviews.”

she did a little twirl, “so, thoughts?”

JJ bit his lip, his thoughts becoming less and less pure the longer he stared at her. “definitely compliments the…chest area.”

“J, be serious!”

“oh, trust me, I’m being serious.”

he felt a smirk crawl onto his face, “how about i help you take this one off?”

“mm…” she couldn’t deny the fact that it was a nice idea. her fingers were tired from zipping up so many dresses, anyway. “fine. no funny business, though!”

JJ giggled like a little boy and quickly got up, leaving his phone behind as he followed her into the dressing room.

it wasn’t long before he had the door locked with y/n in his lap.

“babe, i said no funny business,” y/n whined as he began unzipping the dress off of her.

“mm, sshh, jus’ helping you get undressed.”

y/n rolled her eyes and began pulling the dress down, causing her plump breasts to bounce as she moved her body.

“goddamn, baby,” JJ whistled quietly as he moved a hand to grip her left boob, squeezing it lightly with his hand.

y/n couldn’t help but bite her lip, “J…” she warned.

“can i suck them, please, baby? please, just let me put that little nipple in my mouth,” he tweaked her right nipple with his index finger, making her groan.

“J, we’re in public…”

he smirked, taking her reply as a yes to his question.

“that just means we gotta be quiet.”

JJ dipped his head down, taking one of her nipples into his mouth as she immediately arched her back, making access even easier for him.

y/n ran her fingers through his hair, making him groan around her nipple before releasing it to bite hickeys all around her boob. he licked the mark he left and went to her other breast, nibbling gently on the nipple before sucking it into his mouth.

“mmh, so good, J. Such a good boy for me.”

JJ moaned at the praise, lightly bucking his hips as his boner became painfully hard.

he licked all around her nipple while continuing to buck his hips into her ass, trying to relieve his clothed bulge with any kind of pleasure.

“love being your good boy, love sucking on these pretty titties,” he fit as much of her boob into his mouth as he could, squeezing the other one in his hand.

y/n tugged on his hair in pleasure, grinding down to meet his thrusts.

JJ released her from his mouth and hummed slightly, licking her nipple one last time before moving up to kiss her red lips.

so much for finding the right dress, y/n thought.

the third time

JJ pulled y/n into a closet at the midsummer party, locking it behind him.

“J, my parents will kill me.” she warned him, wrapping her arms around his neck out of instinct when he gripped her waist.

“not if they don’t find out.”

he connected their lips, a messy makeout being the turn out as their tongues mixed together.

JJ pulled away from the kiss, a wild look in his eyes. “you just look so gorgeous tonight,”

he began kissing down her neck, “wanna taste you.”

in no time, JJ had her thighs over his shoulders as he pressed a kiss on her clothed clit.

y/n jolted with a moan at the action.

he slid her panties down, revealing her puffy wet pussy as heat radiated from between her legs.

“such a pretty pussy, princess.”

he licked a long stripe from her entrance to her clit, making her cover her mouth to quiet her moans.

she knew she had to be quiet. their friends and family were just outside, after all.

he licked all over, connecting with her folds and sucking on her swollen clit.

JJ starts eating her pussy like a mad man, the obnoxious sound of him licking her weeping cunt filling the dark closet.

his warm muscle laps at her hole with a sense of greed as he whimpered into it, the taste of her pussy giving him just as much pleasure.

he made sure not to let her clit go untouched, though. spitting on it before reattaching his mouth to it, sucking on it as if it was his favorite lollipop. which, between you and me, it was his favorite lollipop.

it soon became too much for y/n, the sight of his head between her thighs mixed with the feeling of his tongue abusing her hole. she felt it before she even heard it, her orgasm bubbling before crashing down onto JJ’s tongue, him licking her clean.

JJ licked his lips before placing a few kisses around her clit, her hole clenching around nothing at the feeling.

he then looked up at her, eyes blown out and chin glistening with her juices.

“thank you for letting me eat your sweet pussy, my love.”

the fourth time

it seemed like a normal drive for the rest of the pogues.

they all sat in the car on the way to the pier, kiara and john b in the front as y/n and JJ sat in the back.

little did they know, JJ and y/n were having some fun of their own.

“better keep quiet, baby,” JJ whispered into her ear as he had three fingers deep inside her. “wouldn’t want our friends to know you’re a dirty slut, would you?”

y/n shook her head as she bit back a moan, digging her head into JJ’s shoulder.

he moved his fingers in and out, a large cocky smirk plastered on his face as she whimpered into his shirt.

“you okay back there, y/n?” john b asked after hearing one of her quiet whines, keeping his eyes on the road.

her cheeks grew red in embarrassment while JJ’s smirk grew bigger in amusement.

she looked up him as she bit her lip, begging for any hint of mercy.

he looked at her then back at john b, “yeah, she’s good, her stomach just hurts.”

“oh, okay. probably just motion sickness.” he nodded in response, just as y/n came all over his best friend’s fingers.

poor thing. he had no idea.

the fifth, and final, time

“we’re gonna get in trouble!” y/n whisper-yelled at JJ after he pulled her out of class, just for a quickie.

he scoffed, “yeah, right.”

he was right, though. they never did.

he led her into the girls bathroom, making her gasp in a mix of surprise and guilt.

“you’re a boy! you shouldn’t be in h-“

JJ cut her off with a kiss, which quickly became heated as he began unzipping his pants.

though, lucky for him, they were interrupted just before he was able to pull anything out.

“ahem,” the vice principal cleared her throat as she stood in the doorway, looking at them with nothing but pure judgement.

y/n immediately pulled away from the kiss, a mortified look on her face as she realized her biggest fear had came true.

they had been caught in the act.

“mrs. shelly-“

“no! this is unacceptable, and both of you will be following me to the principal’s office!” she scolded them before turning around on her heel and heading towards their destination, content when she heard their footsteps close behind her.

“well,” JJ whispered into his poor girlfriend’s ear.

“looks like our reign of terror is over.”

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strawhbrrries · 11 months

Text

Three gifts and a kiss

pairing: reader x softish!joel miller

summary: three gifts and a kiss is all it took for you to break the walls around Joel Miller’s heart.

warnings: implied age gap (never mentioned), use of pet names (darlin’), straight fluff, no use of Y/N *please let me know if i forgot anything*

author’s note: this is my first real writing piece, outside of fanfic i wrote on wattpad when i was twelve, so please be kind with criticism! as much as i love smut i was too nervous to write it for my first post so i hope the fluff does justice. i really do hope you enjoy it! *not proofread*

word count: 2145 words

“Shh. Stop your fussing. I am just braiding your hair.” You teased, separating the three strands of hair you were overlapping into more organized strands to work with.

“It hurts!” Ellie whined, laying her head back in your lap to emphasize her point, bringing one her hands up to rub the side of her head to soothe the pain she swore up and down was the worst thing she ever felt.

Ellie was sat on the floor in between your legs reading whatever she had picked up off the end table when she came barging in your house demanding for her hair to be branded, something about how she had never learned and needed to be taught. Which was a big load of bullshit, as proved by the fact you were just braiding her hair and she wasn’t learning shit, well only half a load of bullshit as she truly had never learned.

Jackson wasn’t necessarily a boring place for you before Ellie and Joel showed up, but it wasn’t the most entertaining either. Bartending has its perks but outside of it, all the days blended together and were a never ending boring hell. The foul mouthed child made your days way more interesting, finding every excuse under the sun to find her way into your home. Not that you minded, but a knock would be nice every now and then. You enjoyed her company more than you expected when Tommy informed you that the empty house next door would be filled. You had actual friends your age, but most had adult responsibilities that started earlier in the day than yours did, besides Ellie being over occasionally meant Joel visiting to bring her home. Those were your favorite days.

The first time you ever met the infamous Joel Miller, is forever ingrained in your mind. His footsteps rattling through the house and the deepness of his voice as he called out for Ellie, you mentally noted that he was the reason she never knocked.

“In here Joel!” Ellie called out from your bedroom just up the stairs, giving you a look that expressed all her frustration of him just showing up.

“C’mon, dinners ready.” His voice carried through the house, not once had he really raised his voice since he showed up. His footsteps on the stairs sent her into a flurry to grab her things and go.

The two finger knock on the door captured your attention, never in your twenty years of living had you seen a man so attractive and he became so much more attractive the second he nodded his head in your direction. You knew it had been a long time when such a simple action made warmth flood your body.

“I’ll see you later, Ellie, hopefully the garden will be a bit more grown in soon so we can mess around in it !” You smiled, smoothing out the shirt you were wearing to try and make yourself more presentable for your unexpected handsome visitor. “It’s Joel, right?”

“Yeah, sorry it took so long to meet.” He spoke back, no emotion present. You added to your, short, mental notes about the man that he seemed almost robotic.

“‘s okay. Ellie said you’ve been pretty busy, I enjoy having her around. It was nice to meet you!” You spoke enthusiastically to try and elicit a response from him but all he did was nod his head out the door and left with Ellie trailing behind him. A frown and disappointment soon took over the warmth he had originally brought.

Joel never went out of his way to acknowledge you, sure he nodded his head every time you served him at the bar but unlike your other regulars he had no interest in your stories and new recipes. However, you always went out of your way to acknowledge him in subtle ways; always sending some leftovers home with Ellie, leaving a brand new guitar on his porch after Ellie told you he had broken his other one (admittedly, not your most subtle move), and a record of Linda Ronstadt with the words “I don’t need this back :)” scribbled on a piece of paper taped to it.

The leftovers he appreciated, not that he ever expressed his gratitude to you about it. They were nice after a long shift on patrol, especially so because he didn’t have to cook nor did he have to interact with people at the mess hall. He spoke more to you, kinder to you, after you started sending leftovers home with Ellie. You found him, much like Ellie, barging in more often and on one occasion found him in your garden inspecting the produce you had planted for the season.

“You’ve got weeds.” He’d mumble, as if he was genius of the year for that observation. “Prolly some bugs too.” Joel placed a hand on his knee and got up off the ground, standing awkwardly as he had previously planned to have been gone before you caught him here.

“By all means, if you can find insecticide that won’t cost me a fortune I would be forever indebted to you.” A chuckle slipped out at the thought that THE Joel Miller was in your garden going on about weeds. Life was weird sometimes. Your words earned you the first smile you’ve seen from the man, you thought about it every night from then on out. Joel, unbeknownst to you, thought of your giggle and the pretty blue sundress you had been wearing when you stumbled upon him every night.

The guitar, that one stirred up some trouble in the imaginary relationship you thought was going on with you and Mr. Miller. Ellie had come to help you cook and also gossip about Joel, you didn’t mind either, when he came storming in the house. You and Ellie exchanged a knowing look, but neither could’ve predicted the storm that was going to brew.

“Ellie. Go home.” His voice was low and his face mean. Everyone knew Joel Miller was a mean man but to be the person it was directed at, even worse.

“Wha- I’m just helping!” Ellie tried to plead her case, motioning to the half cut vegetables she was cutting.

“Go.”

Ellie, reluctantly, left which left you with the seething older man standing in your kitchen. Instead of speaking, you simply turned around to the vegetables Ellie just left and started chopping in hopes that maybe he would leave and you didn’t have to be the brunt of whatever anger he had about something you didn’t even know about!

“What did you trade.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement and he expected an answer about point five seconds ago.

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.” Also not a question, also a statement, most certainly a lie. You knew exactly what he was asking about, it was an act of kindness and you didn’t want to be scolded for caring about him.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, leaned over the kitchen table that sat in between the two of you and let out a sigh. “Let's cut to the chase, darlin’. What the fuck did you trade. Don’t fuck with me either ‘cus I know you’re smarter than that.”

“What I did or did not trade for the guitar is not your business, I was being nice, Joel. Hard for you to get used to, I know.” Your words came out a bit harsher than intended, you weren’t trying to be rude all you had intended to do was give him a new guitar after his had broken.

Instead of a rebuttal all you heard was his boots hitting the floor and the slam of your front door. You were too angry to cry, all you had tried to do was be kind. Had he been embarrassed? Embarrassed about what, that someone cares for him? You were too angry to chop, the fear of accidentally cutting off a finger was a bit too real at the moment, so you settled for half the usual vegetables.

You still put leftovers on his porch. No amount of anger, and sadness for what occurred, would stop you from caring about him.

He didn’t speak to you for eight days. Never showed up to coax Ellie home. Stopped playing his, new, guitar on the porch. For eight days he gave you the cold shoulder, it sucked. He only caved on the eighth day when he overheard your boss mention you had called out of work three days in a row, he couldn’t figure out why he cared but he did. He knocked on your door four times before you opened it.

“You look like shit.” His words robotic as ever.

“If you came to be rude, leave.” Your response was weak and quiet, your skin pale and visibly clammy. You had stressed yourself sick.

“What happened?” He brought his hand to your forehead and immediately felt the heat, surprised you hadn’t melted yet.

For the first time in over twenty years, Joel had taken care of someone. He slept in the uncomfortable chair that sat in the corner of your bedroom, refusing the bed or the couch. He reheated meals and even made some of his own to make sure you were fed, and hydrated. For the first time since you met, you felt that he truly cared. He even let his guard down enough to, begrudgingly almost so much he could’ve convinced someone he was forced to do it, lay with you when the blankets weren’t enough to fight off the shivers. Ellie teased him in the privacy of their home that he was developing a crush, and he was.

The Linda Ronstadt record was your most genius idea. When you had first met Ellie, she mentioned a cassette her and Joel listened to when they were first driving out here. You asked for the artist and her exact words were “I don't know. Linda blah blah blah.” The guitar incident was long forgotten so you figured gifts were pretty safe now. A coworker had mentioned trading a few records for some home cooked meals, and the stars aligned so perfectly that one of them happened to be the exact record Ellie had spoken about (or so you hoped).

Joel frequented your place more often, he found your company more appealing than his own, and you enjoyed it more than you let on. You had Ellie leave the record somewhere in his room to find after his patrol shift.

The now familiar sound of Joel’s boots hitting the floor as he took them off filled your living room. However, he was supposed to be on patrol and definitely not here in your house holding a Linda Ronstadt record.

“Darlin’ what’s with the gift?” He asked softly, or as soft as he possibly could. His body finding comfort next to yours on the couch, plucking the note you wrote off the record and tucking it away into the pocket of his flannel.

“Ellie said you liked her, someone at work was gettin’ rid of it. Figured you might like it.” A smile making itself home on your face, he thought it was the prettiest smile he’d ever seen. He’d gone soft.

“I don’t own a record player sweet girl.”

“You’ll have to visit more then. Or! Let me give you one!”

“I’ll just let you have it, hopefully the lyrics haven’t left my brain just yet and I can teach ‘em to ya.” He placed the record on the end table next to him and placed a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Can’t believe I was such a hard ass on you, sweetest thing to ever grace my life.”

“I knew you’d come around eventually.” Looking up at him softly and caressing his cheek before placing the gentlest of kisses to his lips. “Thought you were supposed to be on patrol anyway.”

“Got someone to switch with me after I saw the record, had to come see my girl.” Joel responded, placing a kiss on your lips before trailing his thumb along your bottom lip.

Three gifts and a kiss is all it took for you to break the walls around Joel Miller’s heart. The leftovers no longer found their way onto his porch, as eventually it became your porch and the leftovers found themselves in a new fridge. The guitar was played and used to teach Ellie how to play, you often spent evenings on the porch listening to someone strum it. The record was always on repeat when Joel was home, until he accidentally dropped it on the floor consequently covering it in scratches unable to be played. As for the kisses, they never stopped and each one filled your body with butterflies that could burst out at any moment.

#joel miller #the last of us #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo #joel miller fluff #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #pedro x reader #pedropascal #maddies fics

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luimagines · 7 months

Text

He’s Turned Into a Kid Part 2

Masterlist

Part 1

Part two will include Four, Wind and Time

Content under the cut!

Four

“Woah!! Look at that!” The child cried from on top of Twilight’s shoulders. He jumps, pointing to something in the distance, nearly flinging himself off of Twilight in the process.

“Careful!” Twilight grabs onto his legs, struggling to keep the two of them balanced. “Don’t fall.”

You looks forward to where he pointed, but you don’t see anything. “What is it Link?”

He jumps, much to Twilight’s chagrin. “I think I see the castle! Papa is in Castle Town! I’m almost home!”

You wince, along with the few other members of the group. You don’t have the heart to tell him that this isn’t his world.

When he was hit by the magic, he was transformed into a child no older than six years old. Luckily, he was still able to wear his clothes, even if they were a bit too big for him. But he was certain that he was lost and knew the way back home. So the group figured that if anyone could help him, it was Zelda. Thus, you all stated traveling to the castle.

You didn’t expect him to be so excited for someone who wasn’t there.

“I hope Zelda wasn’t too worried.” He says when no one else comments on his words. “I was supposed to head to the castle to check on her bunnies. I don’t know how I got so far away though.”

“Do you want to see the bunnies first?” You try to steer away from Castle Town. “We have to go to the castle anyway. Then we can find your dad.”

You can see the idea spin in his head. He’s thinking about it. “Hmmm... But Papa would be worried about me too. He doesn’t like me going too far away where he can’t see me... Not that I haven’t done that before.”

You snort. Of course. He’s still Link.

“What do you think?” Four turns his head to look at you. “Am I going to get in trouble?”

“Hmmm...” You pretend to think about it too. “I don’t think so. We can stop b the castle first since what we have to do is really important. Then we can find your dad and I’ll tell him it was our fault, yeah? That way you don’t get in trouble.”

He grins. “Thank you! You’ll the bunnies. They’re very tiny and soft. And not everyone can find a bunny to keep, but Zelda has three.”

“Three?” You grin back. “That must be really special then. She must take really good care of them.”

Four nods back. “Do you have bunnies?”

“No.” You shrug. “I have cuccos.”

Four makes a face. It appears that he’s already learned the hard lessons of cuccos. “...I don’t like cuccos. But I’ll find you a bunny, ok? They’re much better.”

You snort. “I believe it.”

Four points a fingers up, a sign of confidence. “I’m really good at finding things. I find all sorts of things in my house that papa says weren’t there before. We have little mice friends and they can help me find you a bunny.”

“I don’t need a bunny though.” You shake your head, keeping your smile on your face. “But thank you. That’s very sweet of you.”

He nods, suddenly very determined. “It won’t be easy. Maybe I can ask grandpa to help make a little trap. He works a lot with metals. He’s a blacksmith. I’m going to be just like him when I grow up.”

You nod, keeping some little comments to yourself. It wouldn’t do anyone any good if you started talking about him like you already knew him. For all the boy knew, he was just somewhere else, surrounded by strangers. It doesn’t seem like he knows anything of the hero he would grow up to be.

You hope that Zelda would actually be able to do something about this and fix him. But even if there’s no immediate solution, you can’t say that you’d mind having him around.

“I bet you’re going to be just as good as him, maybe even better.”

He laughs. “No one is better than my grandpa. But if I get close to it, I’d be really happy.”

Wind

“What do we do?”

“Oh my god, this is horrible.”

“Time, you grew up with children right?”

“Don’t look at me. I have no experience with babies.”

“Wild, get a fire going, heat up from milk.” You command, trying to hold the group together. “We need to cook a few light grains to keep him full since I think he’s past that age. We need rags, blankets and something to cut them with. He’s going to get cold.”

The boys start scrambling at your orders. Wind looks up at you, easily no older than a year old. He smiles and you can see little baby teeth peaking out from his gums.

“Oh your teeth.” You stare in wonder. You’ve have some experience with small children. Between your little bother and Zelda, you know some basics, but in reality you’ve never felt less prepared for anything. But at least he might be able to eat more solid food. So that’s a relief.

Wind starts laughing, a light and bubbly sound. You can’t help but laugh back. “What, buddy? What’s so funny?”

“Man, he was a cute kid.” Warrior looks over your shoulder. You shift the child so that he’s balancing on your hip instead on purely being held up in your arms.

“Agreed.” You poke his nose and he laughs more. “He looks like Link when he was this age.”

Warrior makes a face but Wind starts to babble. “Bababababababa...”

“What is it, buddy?” You give your attention back to him. He reaches up but aims for Warrior. You grin. “Oh you want the Captain, little man?”

You happily give the babbling baby to the suddenly panicked hero. Warrior takes him since you leave him with little other choice but he’s holding Wind awkwardly and his fear is tangible. “.....Help.”

You laugh. “Don’t be so stiff. He’s just a baby. He’ll be back to normal soon enough.”

“The problem is just that. He’s a baby.” Warrior lifts the child higher. “What if I drop him?”

“Don’t.” You shrugs “It’s not that hard.”

“You seem to know what you’re doing.” Wild points his wooden spoon in your direction.

You shake your head, putting your hands up in defense. “I just remember my little brother. I’m a lot older than him so I had to help from time to time. Wind also has some baby teeth, so he can eat more solid food by the way. We just have to grind it up first before we give him anything just in case.”

Wind keeps talking, trying to tell the older hero something but Warrior has no idea what to do. The sight makes you laugh. “Captain, you’re hopeless.”

He looks back at you and back to the kid. Wind blows a raspberry before collapsing into giggles again. You shake your head and finally take his arms, positioning Wind against him so that it’s better from both parties. “Absolutely hopeless.”

“Dadadada! Babrrrrrrr.”

You nod, putting your hands on your hips. “Agreed. Well said.”

Warrior whines. “Don’t leave me alone with him, please.”

You raises an eyebrow. “What about-”

Wind starts crying, suddenly reaching for you. “Momaaa!!!”

You flush and take him back without hesitation. “Me? Did you want me, buddy? I got you. You’re ok. Don’t cry.”

Warrior sighs and ruffles his hair. “We have our work cut out for us.”

“We got as many loose rags as we could.” Hyrule holds a few of them up. “What do be need them for?”

You flinch. “Diapers.”

They pale.

Multiple hands shoot up. “Not it!”

“Cowards.”

Time

You were going to cry.

The small boy in front of you was too precious, too young and too sweet to be Time. He kept looking around the forest around you as if he had never been here before. And maybe he hasn’t, but that doesn’t stop the way he seems to be looking for something.

“Are you ok?” You ask him, poking his shoulder. You say it gently and yet it seems to take him by surprise.

“Um...” He seems nervous. “I’m looking for Navi.”

You tilt your head. That’s new name. You’ve never heard it before. Warrior goes completely still, not so subtly paying attention to your not so secret conversation. So he recognizes the name. Interesting. “Who’s that?”

“My fairy.” He whispers. “She left after we defeated Ganon...and I don’t know where she is.”

The whole group comes to a complete stand still.

“Oh my god...” Sky suddenly looks ill.

The young boy doesn’t seem to know why it bothers them. He misinterprets their silence. “I know! After everything we’ve been through, she just left. She didn’t even say goodbye. I’ve been looking all over for her! I need to stop by Lon Lon Ranch to get Epona. She’s a tiny horse but big enough for me to ride.”

He’s already saved the world, a little voice tells you. He’s so little but he already did it. You cough, unsure what to do with this information. “A tiny horse? Is she cute?”

He smiles, nodding at you. “She’s a brave girl. I love her.” He doesn’t elaborate any more on the topic because he seems to be lost in thought again. “I know you said you’d help me get home, but I also need to talk to the princess. She had dreams about Ganondorf so she believed me when I said that he was truly as evil as she believed- but she also has the Ocarina of Time. If she can trust me with it, maybe I’ll be able to use it to find Navi.”

You bite your lip and try to control your breathing. Legend is actually crying in the background. You catch him but you’re at liberty to corner him and ask him what the deal is.

Warrior looks simply heartbroken. He’s got his own issues here but your attention is on the young boy.

“So are any of theses guys your boyfriend?” He pokes your stomach. You jump and snap your arm to protect the spot, taken aback by the emotional whiplash.

“No.” You have to keep yourself from adding onto that answer.

“Oh...Is your partner not here?”

“I don’t have a partner. Why do you say that?”

“You’re just pretty.” He says it so casually. You’re almost jealous. “I thought that you would have had a partner. But if you’re here then they’d be worried about you. So I was curious.”

“...Right...” You force a smile onto your face.

Tiny Time turns to you and actually smiles. “I bet you’d look great with flowers. That’s what we used to do in Kokiri Village and everyone would get to look nice and pretty.”

“Sounds like fun.” You’re not reeling. It’s fine. You can survive this.

“I can teach you.” He takes your hand and starts to swing it.

Ok, you give up. You’d do anything for this kid. “I’d like that.”

But how are you going to get him back to the way he was?

Part 3

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #lu x reader #sorry Wind #you've been babied

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eveningepiphany · 1 year

Text

and they were roommates | H.S

summary: when harry and Y/N have gone from longtime best friends to roommates, the lines that have been slowly blurring since their teen years are beginning to disappear altogether.

warnings: smut, oral fem rec, PIV (unprotected), praise kink, kind of a size kink if you squint— and sexual mentions throughout!

my masterlist <3

——————

“Dude, why are you drinking out of my coffee cup again.” You groan, after opening the cupboard to find your favourite cup missing for what had to be the third time this week.

You and Harry have been living together for over half a year now, since he got back from touring with one direction and you started college.

It all happened relatively quickly, Harry wanted a place with someone— so it was never alone over the months he was touring— and you didn’t want to stay on campus with a heap of people you didn’t know.

So here you are, living in your 3 bedroom flat, with your best friend while studying to get the job of your dreams. It sounds ideal doesn’t it, till your flat mate starts stealing everything you own I suppose.

“M’sorry,” he laughs from the couch, not meaning it whatsoever.

“It’s just s’cute— reminds me of you with all the little hearts n’stuff on it.” He glances over his shoulder, a guilty smile on his face as he brings it up to his lips and swallows a mouthful of hot tea.

You grab his cup from the shelf, “We live together, there’s hundreds of things in this house that should remind you of me other than my mug.”

“It’s fine, I’ll use yours instead.” You know his favourite, the one Gemma and Anne got him for his 14th birthday, with their faces plastered all over it.

“Go ahead, doesn’t bother me at all.” He says smugly, stretched out on our couch, clad in grey sweats and a black tshirt.

You make yourself a tea, and plop down next to him— since it’s Sunday, you don’t have anything planned other than going to the campus library to study.

As if he read your mind he asks, “what’re the plans for today, sweet thing.”

Him and his bloody pet names.

He’s been doing it since you were in highschool, and he started calling you ‘baby’ as a joke because you said you thought it was a cheesy nickname, and it’s stuck around even years later. Now he has a full list of nicknames, equally as disgustingly lovey.

Yet, coming from his mouth and in his accent, they somehow evoke a blush on your cheeks everytime.

His girlfriends never liked the nickname thing— even though he toned it down a lot, if not completely. You rarely heard them, except maybe when you were alone, another thing that didn’t often happen when he was with someone.

The amount of girls who absolutely despised your existence back in highschool all because of your friendship with Harry.

Plenty of girls made up the most scandalous rumours possible to try and get Harry to hate you, fortunately it never worked.

In the end it never really mattered, his relationships never really lasted particularly long anyway. A lot of girls just couldn’t handle the fact he was so close with you, and to be honest you did understand.

“Not much sugar, just going to the library later to study.”

“Can I come?”

“Are you suggesting I sneak you into our student only library right now?” You say in mock surprise.

“Absolutely i am, and maybe then we can go out and get a bite to eat.”

“You’re just gonna be sitting there doing nothing for like probably 2 hours?” You shrug, unsure why he’d want to come in the first place.

“That’s s’alright, I would’ve just been doing that ‘round here anyway.”

“Alright, better not get me caught then.” You sigh.

“I’ll wear that really baggy college jumper you have, they’ll never know.” He laughs.

“Just another thing if mine you’re gonna start stealing, hm?”

“Oh, well now you’ve suggest that—“ He chuckles and you dig your elbow into his side.

“Ouch!” He yelps, as if it actually hurt that much, and he quickly reaches over to have some payback.

Knowing he’s probably gonna tickle you, you jump up, “Oh god— not with the tea, not with the tea!”

He smoothly slips the mug out of your grip and places it down on the table.

You panic, knowing how brutal his tickling is.

Your legs only get you so far across the room before he catches up, immediately prodding you in the waist— he knows that has you disarmed in seconds unfortunately.

He tugs you into his chest, fingers skating all over your body causing you to squirm.

You’re half laughing half crying as you fight against him, “oh my god— Harry, please—“

“You know I always give good payback, love.” He laughs as you’re both stumbling around in the lounge room.

You manage to knock him into the couch, practically sitting him down. His lips part and you’re left standing directly between his spread legs.

His brows shot up his face, a few brown curls falling over his eyes.

Of course he looks fucking gorgeous right now.

You find plenty of these little moments, where sometimes it takes more strength then it should to pull yourself away from him. Your head muddled with images— fantasies— of your lips on his.

You allow yourself to indulge just a little, letting your hand sweep the curls that have fallen over his eyes back. Pulling them hard enough to tip his eye line to you.

“Fuck you, asshole.” You say breathless, attempting to sound annoyed but you don’t think it would have scared a fly.

And with that, you move from the space between his legs and head back to your room.

Harry is left sitting there, also short of breath, with a tiny smile playing on his lips.

——————

About 2 hours later, you’re laying down on your bed, book in hand when the door to your room opens.

“Hey Satan.” You say, not looking up from your page.

“Hey Angel.” You can literally hear him smiling.

He walks into your walk-in-closet, and starts to flick through the racks.

“And what exactly are you doing.” Sighing, you put the book down.

He comes out, pulling your grey college hoodie over his head. It hardly looks baggy on him, compared to how it is on you.

“Getting ready t’go.”

“You’re uninvited.” You scoff, sounding deadpan, but he knows you don’t mean it.

“Awh, you mad at me hm?” He comes over, grabbing your hand to pull you up off the bed.

You don’t fight him as he tugs you up, nor do you agree or disagree.

“God you’re a bluff.” He laughs as he picks up your bag with his free hand.

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes, a smile cracking through.

He doesn’t drop your hand as this time you pull him out of your room to grab your keys.

The college campus is luckily only a 5 minute drive down the road, and it’s not long before you’re both walking in.

You scan your student key card to get into the library, and because it’s Sunday afternoon it’s pretty much dead.

There’s two people sitting over by the windows on their computers and that appears to be it.

Harry follows you down to the back of the library, where your favourite spot is, surrounded with shelves and has warm midday sun streaming through the skylight.

You sink into the leather couch, and start pulling stuff out of your bag.

Harry has ended up flipping through the books nearby, and you really take a moment to look at him in your hoodie.

A feeling swells in your chest, that he really wanted to spend his afternoon with you in a library, and how… cute he looks in your jumper.

You assume this is probably how guys feel when girls are wearing their overly baggy shirt and boxers or something.

But instead you can nearly see the bulge of his bicep outlined through the material.

He walks back over, slipping his phone out from his back pocket before he sitting down next to you.

“Thanks for sneaking me in.” He leans in to whisper in your ear.

“Your welcome.” You chuckle.

You open your laptop, beginning to file through notes, and he’s scrolling on his phone.

It’s a comfortable silence, something you’d never get sick of. Just being with one another.

His had slips over the back of the chair, fingers brushing your shoulder.

Heat zips up your spine for no good reason. You want to die a little, hating how you find yourself getting hot and bothered all because of his touch— and since you’ve moved in together it’s happening all the more often.

Like the times you end up cuddling on the couch, watching romcoms, and his hands would fall on the peak of your hip and the dip of your waist, pulling you into his chest. God his hands. Usually adorned with cold rings, at that time of night they’re bare and warm.

Or when you’ve fallen asleep on said couch with him, and woken up— somehow having slept all night without waking— in a tangle of limbs with him, feeling his morning wood poking into you. Him apologising profusely after waking up, even though it’s not the first time it’s happened.

However this isn’t an entirely new feeling. There were the few times as teenagers when you pushed the limits on your friendship. Usually drunk and sneaking back into one of your houses, and ending up against the wall or in bed, getting so close to kissing it physically made your body ache. Till someone laughed, or he tickled you.

That one time you were sitting on his lap at a party and you felt him harden beneath you, and you played into it a little, innocently wiggling your hips against him. And when he’d looked at you— eyes dark and filled with undeniable desire— you’d coyly asked him what was wrong, like as if you didn’t know exactly what the problem was. “Nothing.” He’d cleared his throat, scooting you down his leg with his hands. “Just uh, have t’go to the bathroom.”

You shake you head, physically— hoping to clear your thoughts— and his eyes snap to you.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, a light frown on his face.

You clear your throat, “just remembered I…”

His thumb is stroking your shoulder, really not helping you collect yourself. You clench your thighs together.

“Have a test tomorrow.” You finished slowly, and his eyes narrow for a second before nodding.

He doesn’t say anything as you aimlessly scroll through notes, pretending to focus when all you can feel is his fingers grazing along your shoulder.

45 minutes.

A fully excruciating 45 minutes you sit there, half attempting to focus on the notes as his fingers trace the length of your shoulder, and even ghost over the junction of your neck and upper back.

“I think I’m done.” You blurt, causing his gaze to snap to you and hand to still.

“Wanna get something to eat then?” He asks, a slight edge to his voice you can’t properly place.

“Maybe if we can just go home? I have a headache to be honest, I kinda just want to eat some ramen and crash on the couch.” You ramble, hoping he’s not annoyed you’re not going out for lunch— when In reality Harry would never care about something like that.

“‘Course beautiful.” He nods, a smirk flashing over his lips.

The drive home is just as painful for you, and you feel like you need to have a cold shower to get out of the headspace you’re in.

Because everything he’s doing is somehow being warped into completely non-platonic thoughts— plain filthy thoughts.

Like how he’s fiddling with his ring right now at the red light, slowly slipping his finger in and out of it.

Oh god.

As you get home, you are almost jumping out of the car.

Distance, you need distance— right now.

You leave your bag in the back, ready just to get inside.

You’re fumbling with your keys at the door, trying to find the house key amongst 20 others, and Harry is right behind you.

He reaches over, plucking up the gold key on the key ring, “this one.” His voice sounds gravely, almost sultry as it enters your ears and into your depraved and clearly aroused mind.

You unlock the door, toeing off your shoes, “You’ve really gotten yourself worked up, hm?”

He asks, and you freeze.

You don’t say a word as you stand just inside the doorway, he’s right behind you but you can’t trust that actually just came out of his mouth.

Because maybe you’re hearing things— maybe really horny people hear thi—

“Don’t think I haven’t seen how hard you’ve been clenching those pretty little thighs.”

“Wh…what?” You stutter out as he moves closer to you.

He’s in your space when you turn around, and your stepping back— only to be met with him stepping forward again.

This happens until your back hits the hallway wall, and his hands bracketing either side of your body.

His hands move to rest on your lower hips, gently enough that if you weren’t comfortable with it, you could slip them straight off.

“I’ve seen you like this before.” He states, eyes dark.

“How you get so zoned out, I’d kill to see what’s going inside that head of yours.”

“Harry…” Your hands are hardly an inch away from his chest, tingling to touch him.

You’re reminded— the second time today— of the time when you were teenagers, up against the wall of his bedroom.

“Fuck.” Harry sighed, breath hot against the side of your neck.

You’d somehow managed to sneak back into his house without waking his family, which is shocking considering the amount of drunken giggling coming from the both of you.

Or the stumbling up the stairs as he playfully swatted your ass behind you.

It was somewhat a wonder of how you ended up against the wall of his bedroom, hands all over eachother.

He was half-hard, you could feel him pressed into your side shamelessly as he ran his palms along your figure.

“Am I getting you all hard?” The alcohol in your system gave you confidence to ask outright with a laugh.

He chuckled back without an ounce worry, “Yea, honestly.”

“Didn’t know I did it for you like that.” You pushed your hands up his shirt, feeling the hard planes of his torso.

“Mm, I betcha don’t.” He licked a stripe up the shell of your ear and you let out a little humorous squeak.

“You’re so sensitive.” He started to tickle you and you squirmed under his grip.

That was the closest to kissing the two of you got that night, and although the tension was palpable, you somehow managed to resist it. Even though you both wanted to so bad it made you ache.

Scooping you up, he plopped you onto his bed, your dress riding up your thighs.

He chucked you one of his shirts and sweatpants for you to change into.

Nothing more happened, he got into bed with you after stripping down to his boxers and you rolled into his arms.

“Look cute in my clothes baby, as always.” He kissed your temple.

“Mm, you’re cute, H. Think you’re really sweet.” You slurred with sleep.

“Love when you call me baby.” You confess while you play with his hair.

“D’ya?” He smiled into your neck.

“Yea…”

“See, there you go again— what’s got you all distracted?” His calm question snapped you back to reality.

You slide your fingers down to his waist, still not sure what to say, head spinning at his close proximity.

“Or do I have to work it out for myself?” He slips his hand to your waistband, waiting again for a reply.

An uncalled for whimper slipped from your mouth, louder than you’d like to admit.

“Fuckin hell.” He groans, moving to graze his lips on your cheek, not doing anything without asking.

God they were soft. So fucking soft.

You kissed his cheekbone, and you both gently pecked around eachothers face, all but evading lips.

“Please kiss me, H.” You tugged on his hair.

He wasted no time sliding his lips over yours. The two of you savouring that first real kiss.

You both held it for a few moments, the years of tension melting into it. Too far gone to worry about the repercussions this could possibly have on your friendship.

At this point, you’ve crossed the line between your platonic friendship and not so small romantic feelings so long ago— perhaps without even releasing— that although it’s a new feeling, it almost feels natural.

Years of short pecks, and gentle, mostly chaste kisses— not to say you haven’t made out while blackout drunk i suppose— have made you both eager to experience a kiss like this for the first time.

It quickly went from a feather-soft kiss to one you could only deem hungry and exploratory.

The first real taste of his tongue was hooking, he swiped it along your bottom lip before taking it between his teeth and plucking it towards him.

The pop it made as he released it had you groaning into him.

Your hands— which had long since found their way into his curly hair— were tugging at the roots.

He pulled your legs up around his waist, and you could feel how hard he was through his jeans.

“You’re so hard—“ you moaned out, pushing your hips forward to grind against him.

“God, you feel s’fucking good. Bet you’re so wet right now.”

“Touch me, Harry, please touch me.”

He chuckled into your neck, “I am baby,”

“Gonna have to be a little more specific. Tell me what y’want.”

“Want you. Anything, anything you’ll give me.”

His mouth is back on yours before you can say more, and he’s carrying you down the hallway into his room.

He carefully sets you down on the edge of his of bed, dropping to his knees between your splayed legs.

“Can we take these off?” He clarifies as he grabs the top of your pants.

“Yes,” you sigh out and he slips them from your legs.

He tosses them aside before coming to solely focus on you.

You’re only in plain black panties, and you open your mouth to apologise for it,

“Sorry, didn’t really think I’d—“

“Don’t you dare apologise. This is bloody…” He leans to press a kiss on the inside of your knee before ghosting his hand over the fabric covering your core.

Moving forward he lays an open-mouthed kiss on top of where your clit is, and you moan out softly.

He could feel how damp the soft cotton of your underwear was beneath his lips, and he looks up to you.

“Can these come off too?” He asks, hooking his fingers around them, eager to get them off.

Another keen yes slips from your mouth, and he tugs them from your hips.

He’s quiet for a moment, as your lower half is laid on display to him. His eyes are flitting over every detail possible, taking in what has to be the only part of you he hasn’t seen in your years of friendship.

“You are phenomenal.” He says, his filthy praise has your head spinning.

“And so wet…” he licks his lips carefully, “all for me?”

You groan again at his words, hardly able to form a coherent sentence to answer such a question.

“Use y’words, darlin’.”

“Yes, Harry— just for you. All this just for you.” You whine, pushing your hips up into nothing, aching for any kind of friction.

He kisses everywhere, just under your belly button, the crease of your inner thigh— everywhere except for where you want him most.

“Harry, don’t tease me, just want your mouth on me.” You say outright, moaning at his finger that’s slipped up to your entrance, gently rubbing the outside of it.

“Want my mouth?” He smirks, his ego taking your begging personally.

He leans forward, jutting his tongue out to where his index finger was just circling. But instead of staying there, he drags it up, bringing your arousal to your clit.

You never imagined the first thing the two of you would do would be this. Him burying his face between your legs, licking into you like he was getting payed.

But fuck was it perfect. It felt like everything was clicking into place.

The way he’s lapping at your clit has you already fluttering around nothing.

“Taste s’fucking good. Like a dream.” He says into you, the vibration of his words causing you to arch into him.

“Thought about you like this so many times.”

Images of him touching himself to the thought of you flash to life in your brain. In his room, on this very bed. His warm hand wrapped around himself, uttering your name quietly with every soft tug he does. You wonder what else he thought about, if he was imagining your lips wrapped around him instead, or maybe being buried within you.

“Me too,” you admit, breathless.

“How good you’d taste— or how tight your little cunt would be around me.”

“Shit, Harry—“ you moan, his lips moving to suck on your clit, and his two fingers slipping into you.

He pulls his face back a fraction to look at the fingers he just pushed into you.

“And I was right. Aleady fuckin’ squeezing around my fingers like it’s too much hm? How’re y’gonna take m’cock?”

His perfect curly hair is being mused by your hands and you’re practically trying to tug his mouth back to your swollen clit.

“I’ll take it, I will.” You promise.

“Mm you will, that’s right. Good girl.” Your belly tightens and you know you’re not going to last long.

Harry knows it too, picking up the pace of his tongue and fingers.

“Keep talking,” you beg, not only enjoying the dirty words coming from his mouth, but the way they vibrate into you.

“Bit busy.” He states— and you can almost feel him smirk before his teeth ever so slightly graze over your pussy.

“Fuck.” Your cry, bucking your hips at the sensation of it.

He takes note, and does it again. Eliciting another just as loud moan from you.

“Harry, please—“ your head is begging to fog, every other thought dissipating, only mantras of his name paired with curse words seem to be left.

“Holy shit, Harry.” Your jaw is slack, legs splayed as wide as they can go.

He moans into as you clench around his fingers, and the words ‘good girl’ are muffled into you again.

“Im gonna come— I’m so close.”

He sucks on you with another moan almost as loud as your own— you can help but love how vocal he is—and it feels like it was vibrating your whole body.

With his fingers curling in you he pulls back just enough to draw in a deep breath, “come on darling, that’s it, come around m’tongue.”

“Wanna feel you clench around my fingers before you take m’cock.”

He flicks his tongue fast along your clit, moving it in sync with his fingers and it all comes crashing down.

Your thighs almost cage his head between your legs, and it proves the deep breath was not just for nothing, because there is no way he could breathe right now.

You’re moaning his name as you finish, grinding your cunt against his movements to ride out your high.

As your breathing begins to level out, he pulls his head away with an inhale, and you look to find his mouth glistening.

“That was so… so good.” You whispered to him, body gone completely deadweight on his mattress.

He’s smiling wide with his swollen pink lips, “took my mouth so well.”

You move to sit up, and it’s a true sight to see him on his knees like that.

You pull him by the back of his neck to your lips. No shame in where his mouth just was.

“Can you taste yourself?” He asks, hands going to cup the junction of your neck and jaw.

You hummed in agreement, and you start pulling at the hem of his shirt.

“Off, please?”

“‘Course.” He pulls it over his head, briefly breaking the kiss.

You stare at his chest, and your eyes dip to the symmetrical ferns that highlight his v-line— drawing special attention to the line of hair that starts under his bellybutton, and disappears into the black boxer briefs he’s wearing.

He’s watching your eyes trail along his body, quietly noting the clear effect it has on you.

You reach out a hand, gently brushing it down his abs. Locking your eyes with his, you gauge his reaction as you slide it further down, resting over the top of the hardness in his jeans.

Goosebumps prickle across his arms, and he looks at you with expression filled with pure lust.

“This ok?” You check.

“Yea…” he seems curious, almost unsure of what you plan on doing— yet that excites him all the more.

You brush along the fabric, and he audibly swallows.

A squeeze and he’s already bucking his hips up into your palm.

“Y/N—“ he moans.

“Look at you, I haven’t even touched your bare cock yet and I’ve gotten you all riled up.” You tease, taking a swing in the dark that he likes it as much as you do.

You pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips, “stand up so we can take these off.”

He quickly lifts from his knees, hand going to the button of his jeans and slipping them down his legs.

Clad in only his black boxer briefs, you stroke your hand over the fabric again.

“Please, don’t tease me.” He echos your own words from earlier and you chuckle, hooking your hands into his underwear resting on his hips, and tug them down.

His cock springs towards his stomach, and you still completely.

Whatever post-orgasm confidence you’d gained has dissipated immediately.

You knew he’d be big, having felt him hard against you earlier and on those few other occasions. But seeing it in front of you right now has you lost for words.

“Don’t go all shy on me.” He practically pleads.

“Can’t touch me like that and then…” his sentence trails off unfinished, hand twitching near the base of his length.

You take him into your palm carefully. He’s heavy and warm in it.

He moans at the mere contact, and you start to stroke him, thumb swiping over his tip where precum has long since started to seep out.

He’s literally swaying on his feet, “H, sit down.”

You laugh a little as he sits as close as possible to you, connecting your lips when you start moving your hand again.

“Fuckin’ hell.” He whispers against your mouth.

You are careful not to push him too hard, but enough to really get him going.

“Feels s’good— y’bloody hands, could cum all over them.”

“Wanna fuck you first though, s’tha ok?” He asks, hands coming to rest by your hips.

“Yes,” You whine, “wanna make you come in me.”

“God you’ve got a dirty mouth.“ he starts to get up off the bed,

“You getting a condom?”

“Yea, unless you…” he stares at you a moment, cock twitching at the idea of taking you raw.

“I’m clean. If you’re using—“

“I’m on birth control… and I’m clean— haven’t been with anyone since my last test.” you say.

“You sure?” He asks a final time,

You nod, “I trust you.”

He wastes no time settling back next to you, pulling you into a rough kiss.

He slides you up his lap, taking your top off— which had been on for far too long.

He places a kiss on the top of both your breasts before unclipping your bra.

“Not a single flaw on your fuckin’ body.” He sighs, taking in the sight of your bare chest.

He pulls you forward a little more, so you’re chest to chest as he lines himself up with you.

You feel the hard head of his cock slide through your slit and press just into your entrance.

You’re both already panting and Harry looks at you, saying tenderly, “I’ll be careful.”

He’s somehow so hot and so sweet all at the same time. It’s hardly fair that he can be both.

His hands on your hips are lowering you down slowly, and he’s groaning at the feeling of you stretching to fit him.

It’s a bit of an effort to get to the base of him, but fuck once you do, you feel so full.

“Fuck… don’t— don’t move.” His head is spinning, you’re so tight around him that even the slightest movement could have him cumming into you.

It takes you both a moment to ground yourselves, “Sorry— god you’re just so fucking warm and tight… nearly came just getting in you.”

“Can move now, love.” He says, still sounding a little shaky.

You roll you hips gently, and the pleasure of it is overwhelming.

It kickstarts his movements, because after a few more pushes of your hips, he starts to thrust into you.

You’re already trembling, “Harry—”

“You’re a good girl, Y/N, keeping y’promises. Taking me so well.” His praise has you clenching around him.

It’s clear to him how much dirty talk and praise effects you, so he keeps it up.

“Feel good, hm? Like the feeling of my cock stretching you all out like this.”

“Yes!” You cried out, heart thundering in your chest.

“Lettin’ me fuck me so good…”

“Got such a nice little cunt, I want it all to myself now.”

“Have it, Harry— it’s all yours.”

“Sweetheart, you’re too good too me. Gonna make y’feel s’good.” He reaches his hand down to your clit.

He’s fucking your clit with fast circles that feel heavenly paired with the way he’s pushing his cock into you.

Your bouncing into his thrusts, and a heat blooms rapidly in the pit of your stomach.

“Harry! I’m so close, please.”

He moans, “fuck— your cunts clamped ‘round me so tight. Gonna come.

“Come in me, please.” You whined, the thought almost enough to tip you over the edge.

But what really does is the way he grunts “good girl” into your ear a final time.

You both cry out in sync, and it’s euphoric, pure bliss really.

You’re both breathing hard, still spasming and twitching as you feel the pleasure from your orgasms ease off. He slips gently out of you, and lays you into his chest.

“Thank you.” You whisper, feeling exhausted yet so grateful for him.

“Thank you.” He presses a kiss to your forehead.

Your eyes are closed and he stokes the small of your back, “Five more minutes, then we’ll go clean up and cook some ramen, hm? How’s that sound.”

You smile tiredly, “Sounds good.”

——————

A/N- this has been sitting in my drafts for ages— I’ve reread it that many times idek if it’s that good but decided to post it anywayyy <3 hope you enjoyed!

#harry styles x y/n #harry styles #harrystyles smut #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #best friend harry #best friend!harry #best friends to lovers #friends to lovers #harrystyles x reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #roommates #one direction #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine

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autisticlenaluthor · 7 months

Text

Maroon

“That’s what you’re wearing?”

It’s the first thing Kara says when she opens the door. Her eyes go wide and her brows shoot up– an involuntary response to the sight in front of her. And immediately, Lena retracts. She smiles, the way she always does when uncomfortable, and lifts her hands in defense.

“Shoot– I’m sorry, I don’t mean it like that,” Kara stammers. “You look great– I mean, you always look great, really! I- I don’t know why I said that. Like– you could step on me, and I’d probably thank you.”

She doesn’t know why that last bit slips out either. But it does. And for a solid five seconds, she freezes, beet-faced as she stares at Lena, who stares back, with brows raised so high her forehead creases to accommodate them.

“I am… so sorry for that,” Kara murmurs after what feels like an eternity.

She steps aside so her friend can enter the apartment and awkwardly adjusts her glasses, mentally kicking herself for, well, everything.

Because really, Lena doesn’t look bad. If anything, it’s the opposite. In a black button-down and plaid dress pants, Lena remains the most stunning woman Kara has ever seen. For embarrassing as they all were, not a word of Kara’s ramblings had been dishonest.

“I just…” Kara shuts the door and fidgets uncomfortably as she approaches Lena. “It’s like a million degrees out, are you gonna be comfortable?”

“I just came from work,” Lena responds. Her voice is flat, her posture stiff.

“I- I know,” Kara says. “You do look very good.”

Lena smiles. “Thank you.”

She sucks in a breath and glances down at herself. She’d had a feeling this wasn’t the most appropriate attire. Kara had invited her to a baseball game at Aztec Stadium- not to a dinner party or board room. Now that she sees herself next to Kara, she does feel pretty ridiculous.

“Could I…” Lena sucks in a breath. “Do you have something I could borrow?”

“Oh– yeah, of course. Come with me!”

They spend the next fifteen minutes in Kara’s bedroom, Lena perched on the edge of the bed while Kara digs through her closet.

“I can’t wait to get nachos,” she says. “I know technically liquid cheese is kind of disgusting. But I feel like the rules don’t really apply at baseball games.”

Lena hums and nods.

“I’ve actually never been to one,” she says.

Kara turns around, holding a few hangers and pairs of pants.

“Any kind of sports, thing, really. Unless you count high school fencing.” Lena laughs as she says it. “But, I was the one doing the fencing.”

“You fenced?”

“Yeah. For about three years.”

Kara pauses and folds the clothes over her arm.

“Why’d you stop?”

Lena shrugs. “I guess I got bored.”

“You got bored sword fighting?”

“Yeah, well…” Lena gives a teasing smile and raises an eyebrow. She’s going to make a remark about how she is a Luthor and after a while, the weaponry in fencing begins to feel a bit juvenile. But she keeps it in, unsure of how a joke like that will land.

Thankfully, Kara doesn’t seem to notice the hesitation. She stays in the swing of things and holds up two pieces from her pile– a maroon tank top and jeans.

“What about this?” She asks.

“I don’t know…” Lena stretches out the words.

She tilts her head and scrunches up her nose as she says it. Kara can pull the look off. She’s nothing if not beautiful in her National City Warriors t-shirt and ripped denim shorts. But with her, it’s different. Because Kara’s muscular and tall. She’s got a sunshine smile and the softest golden waves. And as goofy as she may be, with her baseball cap and fanny pack slung across her body, she’s still her. She’s still perfect.

“Don’t you think I’ll look silly?”

“No, I think you’ll look cute,” Kara answers without an ounce of hesitation. “But it’s up to you.”

Lena rises from the bed and steps forward to take the outfit from her friend. She wants to ask if Kara has another one of those big tees but the words escape her.

“Okay,” she says after a moment. “I’ll try it.”

She strips and changes in front of her (with Kara, it’s never felt strange) while Kara talks to her about everything going on at CatCo. The new intern who Ms. Grant brought to tears on her first day (she brought her a mocha instead of a white mocha) and the techie who was fired for trying to steal one of the company tablets.

“Lena!” Kara exclaims when she’s done.

“What?”

Instinctive arms wrap themselves around Lena’s abdomen. She’s so exposed in this. Her stomach protrudes over the waistline of the jeans and the unfaded stretch marks she normally covers with concealer are visible. She’s too casual, she’s too sloppy, too–

“You look so good!”

Kara claps her hands together. She’s smiling so bright her eyes get all squinty and dimples appear on either side of her mouth.

“Wait- can I do something? Can I touch your hair?” She asks.

Kara's s so happy Lena can’t help but oblige. She nods and smiles, letting her friend come over to her and carefully take the bobby pins out of her bun. She moves slowly with hands so gentle. It’s a welcome break from the nights when Lena gets home and rips them out fast enough that they take clumps of hair with them.

“You look so nice,” Kara softly reiterates as she removes the first hair tie. “I don’t know what it is but you just… you feel so human, I guess.”

The bun collapses into a ponytail and Kara carefully pulls out the second hair tie. She rakes smooth fingers through Lena’s hair, pulling it all back behind her shoulders.

“Human?” Lena chuckles.

“Yeah… I guess I’ve never really seen you outside of your work clothes. You’re always so put together but you just– I mean, you’re always beautiful. And now…” Kara hesitates. She needs something to do with her hands, so she goes back to combing out Lena’s hair. She can feel her face filling with heat, thankful Lena’s back is to her. “You feel less… less far away. Like, you’re less of an entity and more…”

Lena turns around. Her expression is relaxed, save the knit in her brow, like she finally released the breath she’d been hanging onto.

For a moment, she waits, clinging to Kara’s every last word, needing to know where she’ll land. But Kara falls quiet. She’s too focused on the inch of space between them. They’re so close she can smell Lena’s warm vanilla lotion and the faint scent of coffee on her breath, see the scab from where she chews her lip, and the freckles under faded foundation.

“You…” She tries again but the word gets caught in her throat.

“Kara?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I…”

Lena takes Kara’s hand in hers, intertwining their fingers as she steps forward and closes the gap between them. When their lips touch, she waits to feel the fireworks. The butterflies in her stomach, fluttering and pouncing with glee. But instead of an explosion that overtakes her, it’s a calm that washes over her body. Warmth that starts where Kara’s body meets hers, radiating all the way down to the tips of her toes.

It feels right. It feels safe.

When she finally pulls away, Kara’s sunshine smile instantly returns.

“You good?” She asks with a laugh, giving Lena’s hand a squeeze.

“Yeah,” Lena says, smiling in a way that causes her nose to get all scrunchy and small. “I’m really good.”

#supercorptober2023 #supercorptober #supercorp ficlet #supercorp fanfiction #lena luthor #kara danvers

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suuuupernovaaa · 1 month

Text

Accident

Timothee accidentally posts a picture of you, blowing your cover.

The panic sets in like ice flowing through your veins. A tingling at your fingertips shoots straight into your heart. Your eyes are wide, your palms are sweaty. It takes you a few seconds to open up FaceTime and dial his number.

He answers right away.

“Timothee, what did you do?” you ask, your voice low in case he isn’t alone. Your boyfriend is never alone.

The smile he had upon answering fades into something dark. “What?” he asks.

“Instagram,” you reply. “Look at your instagram story.”

When he disappears, you do too, going back to the story. It’s a picture of you perched on a stone wall, looking down the side of a mountain Timothee and you had just hiked. You hadn’t even known he’d just taken it. Your hair was stuck to your neck with sweat, and only part of your face is visible over your shoulder, as you turn to look at him.

His hand is on your shoulder, gripping tightly, possessively, and a hint of a smile plays at the half of your face that’s visible.

You’re wearing one of his t-shirts, an old, plain black one, and the sunset ahead of you makes the picture look like art.

Maybe no one will assume, or wonder. Timothee isn’t even really in it. Just hand.

“Shit, Y/N,” he says, and you swipe back to FaceTime. “Should I delete it?”

“Um… no. Well, maybe. I think people will talk more if you delete it. Maybe just leave it?”

It’s not like he tagged you. You’re not in his following list, because no one is. You’re a total unknown.

“Okay,” he says, the panic in his voice subsiding. “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. “You don’t have to be sorry. It was an accident. And you can’t hide me forever.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’re hiding you. I’m protecting you.”

A soft smile crosses your lips. “I know.”

He winks. “I gotta go, but I’ll have management keep an eye on things online. Call me after work?”

You nod and he blows you a kiss before hanging up.

—

Boy, were you wrong. You’ve been wrong about some things in your life, but never something this big.

They’ve found your instagram, Facebook, and LinkedIn within two hours. You’re getting dozens of requests by the minute, and you’ve never been more grateful to have your socials private before.

The workday passes in a blur of buzzing on your phone. Most of it is follow requests on instagram, but the rest is your friends and family sending you articles about Timothee Chalamet’s ‘mystery girl revealed’.

Timothee Chalamet & the Lawyer from NYC

Timothee Chalamet’s Secret Lover

Timmy’s girlfriend: we talked to her childhood best friend!

It’s endless and you start requesting they stop sending all the nonsense your way. Your mom calls to ask if you’re okay, and your actual best friend reminds you that you knew this day would come, and she’s here for you.

The comments on his latest instagram post are hard to look away from.

user he’s dating that sweaty beast?

user she looks happy!

user who the hell is she???

user FAT GIRLFRIEDN??

reply to user fuck off with your misspelled fatphobia

Eventually, you put your phone on DND to finish your day. The subway ride home is uneventful, and as soon as you set foot in your modest apartment, you call Timothee.

“Well,” he says as an answer, “now I might have to say sorry.”

Despite the stress of the day, you have to laugh. “Maybe. But, this was going to happen anyway. Though one article called me a ‘social climbing hussy’ and I didn’t love that.”

You throw your bag onto the kitchen table and put your boyfriend on speaker phone so you can find something to order for dinner. This day calls for Thai, or maybe Indian.

“Don’t read that shit, Y/N,” he huffs. “None of it matters. I’m like, really sorry people are going to bother you now. But I’m not sorry that everyone is going to find out how in love and happy I am.”

Your cheeks heat, even though he can’t see you. It hasn’t even been a year, but Timothee is already the most special and wonderful thing in your life, and it’s no wonder when he says things like that.

“I wish you were here,” you sigh.

“Me too. Only a few more days.”

—

You stashed your phone in your room to charge, and to avoid, and turned on the TV. Sitting cross-legged in front of your coffee table in your most comfortable pajamas, you’re about to dig in to the most delicious spread of Indian cuisine when the door buzzes.

Could they have found your address?

You get up and press the speaker. “Let me in! You’re not answering your phone!”

Your heart skips a beat and you’re unable to even respond as you hit the button that unlocks the front door. You stand frozen in shock until three loud knocks sound at the door.

Once it’s open, there he stands, and he’s not empty handed. He’s got what looks to be two dozen beautifully arranged roses along with a giant bag full of what you assume is chocolate and candy.

You grab him by the collar and pull him to you, wrapping your arms around his neck. It’s been weeks since you’ve seen him, and the scent of him erases every bad thing that’s happened in the past 12 hours.

It’s worth it, your mind whispers.

He sets the flowers and gifts down on the kitchen counter. “I did something, and I don’t know if you’re going to like it, but let me explain,” he says, a wincing smile on his lips.

You bring his face to yours for a quick kiss. “I don’t care. I’m so glad you’re here.”

He takes out his phone and hands it to you. It’s unlocked already, and instagram is open.

He’s made a new post, and your heart flutters.

It’s a picture from a few months ago, taken at a friend’s house. You’re sitting on the kitchen counter, and Timothee stands between your legs, both of you laughing, his hands in your hair and yours on his hips. You hadn’t even known your friend had taken it at the time, but it’s been his phone background ever since, he loves it so much.

The caption is simple. “Happy.”

Your reaction surprises you as tears gather in your eyes. “They’re going to really come after me now.”

“I know. And I am sorry. But, Y/N, I know privacy is important to us both… but sometimes, I just want to talk about how happy I am. I think we can find a balance.”

He wipes a tear from your eye.

“I’m proud to be yours, Timothee,” you reply, and his smile stretches ear to ear. “Really, really proud. I love you. I just want to be careful, okay?”

He kisses your nose, then each cheek, and pulls you into a tight embrace. “I’ll do whatever it takes to protect this, Y/N,” he whispers, and you squeeze him tight.

You’ll navigate this together.

#timothee chalamet fic #timothee x reader #timothee Chalamet #Timothee imagine

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paperweight91 · 7 months

Text

Like I’m Gonna Lose You

Part 1

Summary: your crush on your married lawyer friend gets a little out of control…

Warnings: smut, Daddy kink, infidelity

Pairing: Andy Barber x Reader, mentions of Andy Barber x Laurie Barber

A/N: This is something inspired by the lovely @georgiapeach30513 ! If it wasn’t for her AMAZING fic Desperate Affairs I’m not sure this would exist.

If you would like to read more I am hoping to post the next part soon.

Autumn set in early this year, much earlier then you ever remembered it setting in before. Only the first week of September and you were already wearing your fall jacket to work. You always loved fall, but wish that summer could last just a little longer.

You locked up your apartment as you set out for work, earlier than usual so you could stop and get a nice warm coffee, heck maybe you’d even spring for one of the seasonal drinks since it was pay week.

As you walked into the little cafe and joined the line, which was already so long despite the early hour, you spotted him. ADA Andy Barber. The man you had secretly crushed on for months. It was embarrassing at this point. Mostly because he’s married. It was so hard though, he was always so kind and attentive. In those moments it was easy to forget why you shouldn’t be crushing on him.

“Hey!” Andy smiled at you, and your heart jumped into your throat. Why did he have to have such a nice smile? “I didn’t know you came here. It’s been a while.”

Yeah because I’m avoiding you.

“I don’t usually,” you tried to smile but it probably came out more like a grimace. “With how cool it’s been I wanted a warm treat and no better time than pay week.” Ugh, why? Why were you so awkward?

Andy made small talk as you both progressed through the line. It was wonderful, and so horrible at the same time. Once you placed your order, he quickly sidled up beside to place his own and pay for both.

“Andy! You don’t have to do that!” You look up at him pleadingly.

“My treat.” He says, and he has his courtroom voice on. “Maybe this means I’ll see you here again since you didn’t have to splurge today.” He winks at you.

He WINKED! That has to mean something. God you wish you were better at this.

“Thank you Andy. I really appreciate it.” You smile shyly. “Maybe I’ll come back tomorrow since it’s my day off and I can actually sit and enjoy a coffee for once.” You laugh at your own joke.

“I’ll be here same time, I’ll even save us a table.” Andy says as he reaches for both your cups from the barista saying a quick thanks.

“It’s a date!” You smack you forehead. What a stupid thing to say to a married man. Married, he’s married! “I uh I didn’t mean, you know date as in dating. Oh god. You know what I’m uh I have to go to work. Thanks again Andy.” Your face heats up as you speed walk to your car.

Stupid, stupid! How could you have said that out loud, to his face! He’s gonna think you’re crazy. Scratch that you are crazy. Pining after a man who’s married with a kid. Just ridiculous.

You look up hearing a tapping on your window - it’s Andy. You roll down your window, looking directly at your steering wheel, still too embarrassed to look at him, you can’t even ask him what he wants, it’s too much. He’s probably here to tell you to stay away from him.

“Hey sweetheart,” ugh the pet name is back. He always calls you this when you do something embarrassing. Usually it’s something small like tripping or dropping stuff. Nothing like proclaiming seeing him as a date.

“I’m so sorry Andy, that was so innapropriate. I should not have said that.” You speak barely above a whisper. Not even sure he heard you.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll see you tomorrow same time, okay? Just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He reaches his hand through the open window and strokes your hair back from your face.

Huh. Andy’s always been affectionate with you, maybe he’s taking pity on your by now obvious crush on him.

“Th-thanks Andy. See you tomorrow.” You put the car and gear and drive away. God that man he did something to you.

Your day at work was mostly wasted as you spent most of your time thinking of how your date with Andy would go tomorrow. Coffee, he invited you for coffee. That doesn’t mean it’s a date. It’s true lots of friends just get coffee with each other.

Finally, your work day over you sign off and say good bye to your coworkers. Getting in your car, you decide to stop at the grocery store to pick up a few things since you planned to spend all of tomorrow reliving your date with Andy. Whatever, it’s in your own head. Enjoy the moments while you have them right?

Picking up your essentials for the week on autopilot, you barely realize when your back in the car and are halfway home before your brain comes back online. Oh well, at least it wasn’t far. Although you should probably stop day dreaming about Andy while driving. That was a sure fire way to get in an accident.

You spend most of the night tossing and turning, not sure what to think about tomorrow. You finally pull yourself out of bed at 5, knowing you won’t be getting any sleep. You shower and decide to wear one of your favourite fall outfits. A brown sweater dress that has always fit you well. Putting on some light make up, you look at the time and realize you’re running later than you thought and rush out the door.

Pulling up to the cafe you see Andy through the window. As promised sitting at a table, with two cups infront of him.

You take a breath and look at him closely before you walk in. He looked good when he’s not in a suit. He also looks good in a suit, but casual - in jeans and a sweater? This is new and fantastic.

“Andy!” You say as you walk over to the table. “I thought you might be working today?” You don’t mean it to come out as a question but it does anyways.

He laughs and smiles at you. “ I have to go by the courthouse later, but wanted to see you this morning.” His eyes sparkle at you. “I got you the same as yesterday, I hope that’s okay.”

“It’s great but you didn’t have to. I thought I was paying today.” You pout at him as you sit across from him. This kinda feels like a date, right? You can pretend at least.

“I know, I know. But how could I let you pay on our date?” His smile is mischievous. Like he knows he’s doing something he shouldn’t.

Your blush reaches your toes if possible.

“Oh God. Andy I’m so sorry, I know this isn’t a date, I can’t believe I said that, to your face!” You cover your face with your hands but not for long. Andy reaches across the table, and holds your hands in his.

“Andy?” You’re confused. Very confused. And maybe reading into the situation a little too much.

“I’m sorry sweetheart. There’s no reason to be embarrassed.” His smile is so warm on his beautiful face. And you’re not sure what to say so you take a sip of coffee.

“Did you order black?” You ask him and he nods. You quickly switch the cups and sigh at the sip of your over priced pumpkin spice whatever.

From there the conversation flows for more than an hour. You’ve never been able to speak to someone like this. Not friends or ex-boyfriends. Andy is such a great listener and so passionate when he speaks. You get lost staring at him while he tells you about a case he just wrapped up.

Watching how his eyes light up when he mentions something he was clearly proud of. How his neck flexes when he recalls something seedy the defence did. He’s just beautiful.

“Hey,” he waves a hand in front of your face. “Did I lose you for a minute?”

“N-no, of course not. You were talking about how Neil’s been trying to steal this case from you?” God you hope that’s right.

He sighs, wrong. Dammit.

“Laurie finds this stuff boring too. I’m used to it. We can talk about something else if you want.” You definitely don’t want that. He seems so sad, and put out by your obvious distraction, it’s natural when you reach across the table to cup his cheek.

“I’m sorry Andy. It’s not boring I promise. I just um…” you trail off, unsure of how to say what was actually happening.

“What sweetheart? You know you can tell me.” His face is a mix of confusion and worry. And you don’t like that so you know you have to tell him.

“Well I just was watching you while you spoke, and I know it sounds creepy. But Andy you’re so passionate and it shows throughout you. I really admire that about you.” There that wasn’t terrible. He won’t think the wrong thing, right?

The smile that spreads across his face makes your insides jump around. Beautiful.

“Thank you sweetheart. You want to get out of here?” Wait what? Isn’t that what the creepy dude you met at the bar asked you? It must have shown on your face because he quickly added, “I’d like to spend some more time with you, but I’m not gonna lie. These chairs? They’re killing my back.” He laughed.

You laughed too. “Would you want to come back to my apartment? I could make us a bite to eat?”

“That sounds great sweetheart. Text me your address, I’ll meet you there.”

You text him your address and start to gather your things. He walks you to your car with his hand on the small of your back the whole time. It’s not weird, friends do this. Right?

You race back to your apartment to do a quick tidy before Andy shows up. Just when you begin to think he isn’t showing up, there’s a knock at your door.

“Sorry! Couldn’t find parking” he must have parked pretty far away. You see the slight sheen of sweat on his brow.

“That’s alright, please come in. And excuse the mess I was planning to clean when I got back.”

His eyes take in your apartment and you squirm like he’s inspecting you.

“Is something wrong?” You ask. His silence is making you nervous, and you shuffle your feet.

“Oh sweetheart no, nothings wrong. Your place is wonderful. I was just trying to find this ‘mess’ you speak of.” He pulls you into his arms. And you giggle at his joke and the closeness. “ is this okay?” He asks wrapping one arm around your waist. The other has found it’s way to your face cupping your cheek and bringing you closer.

“Uh Andy what’s going on?” You’re nervous it’s obvious. He can’t be doing what you think he’s doing.

As leans in you can see his lips get closer before he whispers. “Please don’t tell me it’s all in my head. You want me, don’t you?”

Before you can respond he’s kissing you. Actually kissing you. And the world stops for a moment, because this? This is perfect, and wonderful and-he’s married.

You push him away. “Andy, you’re - you’re married. What about Laurie?” God it hurt to push him away. But you can’t do this right? Even if you’ve never felt like that kissing someone before.

Andy sighs and pulls away from you. And that hurts worse than stopping the kissing. He begins to pace around your living room, before he gathers his thoughts. He finally turns to you and places his hands on his hips.

“Just answer me. Do you want me?” He looks sad again, and that’s a look you don’t want to see on his face. And worse to know you put it there.

“Of course I do. But-“ he cuts you off.

“Sweetheart, things with Laurie they’re - complicated. And you, I feel so much more like myself around you. Please, if you don’t want this I will walk out that door, and never bother you again. But if you do…” he trails off. The most earnest look on his face.

Your body makes a decision before your brain can catch up and somehow you’re kissing him again. But this time it’s much more heated.

“You’re sure?” You mumble against his lips. His only answer is to wrap his hand around your thighs and lift. Blindly carrying you over to the couch. He trails kisses down your neck to the line of your sweater dress. His hands skimming up your thighs underneath your dress to your panties.

“Wanted you for so long.” He says between kisses to your collarbone. “Wanna see you sweetheart, can I?”

You nod bashfully and he gets up so you can pull your sweater dress off. There you are standing in front of Andy Barber in nothing but a nude lacy bra and panty set.

“Don’t hide from me sweetheart. You’re beautiful like this.” His hands reach out to you and you go into his embrace. And he’s kissing you again. Pushing you down to the couch he starts to grope at your breasts, before releasing the front clasp on your bra.

The groan Andy lets out when he sees your breasts spill out flips a switch in you. This man wants you so badly, he’s willing to cheat on his wife for you. You reach down to remove your panties, but Andy’s hand stops you.

“Want you to keep them on sweetheart. Gonna fuck you, then fill you up and then you’re gonna keep it in there all day till I tell you to clean up. Cause you’re my good girl right?” His pupils are blown wide as he looks down at you. And all you can do is moan and nod.

“Please Andy…” you’re writhing and mewling beneath him and he’s barely touched you. You reach down to pull at his fly and button to get his cock out.

“Such a good girl for me aren’t you sweetheart?” He starts to pinch on of your nipples, while massaging the other breast. “Want Daddy to take care of you? Get you all cockdrunk and full?”

“Please Daddy,” you don’t even know what you’re saying anymore as you slowly jack him off. “Want you so bad, always wanted you, only you.”

Andy groans and surges forward to kiss you again. His hands leave your breasts to line himself up with your core. He pulls your panties to the side with one and runs the head of his cock between your lips with the other.

“Look at you, drenched for me and I’ve barely even touched you. Tell me how bad you want it baby, and then I’ll give it to you.” You reach up to cup his cheek.

“Want you so bad Daddy. Need you. Feel like I’m gonna lose it if you’re not inside me soon.” You whine and whimper as he teases you with his cock.

Finally he starts to breach your pussy. It’s a stretch, he’s bigger than you have had before, and you reach up to his arms and squeeze.

“You’re doing so good for me baby. Just a little more. Daddy will take care of you, I promise.” He’s whispering as he leans his forehead against yours. His eyes staring straight into yours.

“You’re so big, I don’t think it’s gonna fit.” You whimper and he kisses your temple. Finally you feel his balls slap against your ass and he’s all the way in.

“Oh baby, gonna fuck you now. You ready?” His hips are already pulling back before you can answer and they snap forward roughly.

Your eyes roll back as he gets into a rhythm. No one has ever throughly ruined you like this before. He may have ruined you for other men.

Andy sets a brutal pace, his hips snapping into you fast and rough. His right hand cupping and playing with your breast and the left sneaking into your panties to rub circles on your clit.

“Daddy please ‘m close.” It’s building inside you and before you can warn him your screaming out your orgasm.

“That’s it, such a good girl for Daddy. I’m right behind you baby.” And somehow Andy’s pace picks up again. You didn’t think he could fuck you any faster or harder, but here he is railing you within an inch of your life.

“‘M close baby, almost there.” He groans his release and you feel his cum flooding into you.

He pants into your neck for a few moments as you stroke one hand through his hair. The other is shamelessly clinging to his ass.

“You did so good for me baby.” He leans over you to pepper kisses all over your face causing you to giggle.

“Andy!” He laughs and finally gives you a break. Looking down at where you’re both connected he slowly starts to pull out, causing you to shudder. He lets your panties snap back into place, and slides down to kiss over your covered mound.

“Remember baby keep it all inside until I tell you to clean up okay?” This is new. The sex you’ve had with men before was…meh at best. And now you’ve slept with a married man, who wants you to call him Daddy and keep his cum inside you all day.

“Uh Andy?” You’re not sure if you want to tell him this. But you probably should.

When he climbs back up your body and gazes into your eyes it’s to see a searching expression on his face.

“Yeah baby, what is it?” He’s so kind, so sweet.

“What does this mean?” You can’t look him in the eye. It’s too embarrassing.

Andy sighs before responding. “I want to do this with you. Get to know you, spend time with you, fucking ruin you for other men. I don’t know where it will god, but we’ll figure it out as we go. Don’t worry baby, I’ll take care of you.”

And that’s how your affair with Andy Barber started.

After that it became a regular thing. When he could sneak away from Laurie he would text or call you to come over. There was nagging guilt building, but you always managed to push it away.

He was choosing you over her!

You let it carry on for months, trying all of Andy’s newest ideas to bring you both pleasure. After the first time, he didn’t linger around for very long after. Usually leaving as soon as he had you stuffed full of his cum. And you of course just kept falling for this unavailable man.

As you tidied up the house on your day off you heard your phone start ringing from the kitchen where you must have left it.

“Hang on!” You rush through the living room to answer, knowing that the only person who ever calls you is Andy.

“Hey Sweetheart,” ugh his voice. It got you every time.

“Hey Andy, what’s up?” That was casual right?

He laughs across the line, “I miss you sweetheart can I come see you?”

“Oh course! I was just tidy-“he cuts you off.

“Great I’ll be there in 20.” With that the line clicks off. You hum as you lose interest in tidying and decide to change, since you know what’s coming.

Slipping out of your pants and t-shirt, you decide on a floral dress with spaghetti straps. Andy always likes when you wear dresses for him.

15 minutes later you hear the knock at your apartment door that can only be him.

You smile as you open the door. “Hey, were you in the neighborhood?”

He doesn’t answer, just closes the door behind him, and pulls his jacket off. He goes to sit on your couch and gestures you to follow him.

“Is something wrong?” You ask him with a worried look on your face.

Andy’s face softens as he pulls you into his lap. “No sweetheart, I’m sorry. It’s not you. Just a bad day and I needed my good girl around to help me feel better.”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and nuzzle into his neck. Peppering kisses along the collar of his shirt. “I’m sorry, can I do anything to help you feel better?”

His smile is watery as he turns his face to look at you. “Can I take you to bed baby? I just need to feel you.”

“Of course Daddy, always want to feel you.” You wrap your arms tightly around his shoulders as he lifts you bridal style to take you to your bedroom.

He gently lowers you to your mattress, and himself above you. The kiss he plants on your lips is different from all the times he’s kissed you before. It’s slower, more passionate, like he’s trying to convey more without words.

You thread your fingers through his hair with one hand and use the other to start unbuttoning his shirt. Which he quickly shrugs out of. He moves to the zipper of your dress, normally something like this he’d barely undress you, but today something was different. Did he feel it too?

When you were both fully naked he cupped your cheek and stared into your eyes for a few moments, before slowly easing himself into you. Slowly he began to rut into you, his eyes never leaving yours. You could feel the pleasure building, slowly, but in a delicious way you had never felt before.

Using one arm to brace himself he brought the other down to your clit and started rubbing figure eights.

“Oh Andy, please I’m close. Don’t stop.” You were panting.

“I know sweetheart, I’m close too. Come on, I want us to cum together.” He adds more pressure to his fingers and changes the angle of his hips so he’s hitting your g-spot with every thrust.

“Oh! Oh, right there, right-“ you cut yourself off with a loud moan as your orgasm tears through you. It almost feels like you black out for a moment, because the next thing you know Andy is collapsing beside you and pulling you into his chest.

Through the afterglow you manage to murmur a few words to Andy. “I love you…”

He stiffens underneath you, the slow strokes of his hand running up and down your arm stop immediately.

“Andy?” He starts to sit up, not looking at you. In that moment you realize how wrong you had gotten everything. He didn’t want more than the sex. That was it, and here you were falling in love with a married man.

“I have to go.” He quickly gathers his clothes, still not looking at you as he dresses himself. While you sit alone and naked on your bed, in shock. Once he’s dressed he spares you a glance before walking out your door.

As soon as the latch clicks into place it’s like the last few moments finally hit you. You told him you love him, and he left. You turn over and sob into your pillow, uncaring for your nakedness, or how cold your bedroom is. Still smelling his cologne there makes you sob harder, to the point you feel like you’re going to throw up. It’s too much. You gave him too much of yourself, and now what do you have to show for it?

The days seems to stretch on after that. Everything seems to be passing in a haze around you. You call in to work on Monday, because why bother.

On Monday night you get a text from Andy. To say you’re shocked is an understatement. You stare at the notification for a while, unsure if you want to see what he has to say.

Deciding that you pretty much already knew what it was going to say you decide to jump in the shower, since you can’t remember the last time you did that. Stepping out you see your phone taunting you from the counter. More notifications from Andy.

Hey Sweetheart, just wanted to check in. Can I call? Pffft yeah right.

I’m sorry Sweetheart, please just let me explain

Nope, not gonna work.

At least just let me know you’re okay? Why were you starting to feel guilty? Of course you weren’t okay. Of course you didn’t want to speak with him. Of course you were falling for it.

Before your brain catches up to what you are doing you’re phone is ringing to Andy.

“Hello?” His voice is rough, like he was sleeping. Maybe he’s as upset as you?

“Sweetheart? Are you there?”

“Hey, yup, sorry. What do you want Andy?” Ugh, why are you almost crying again.

“Can I come over and we talk? Please? I want to explain and I don’t want to do it over the phone or through text.” He’s pleading. Well good, he broke your heart.

“If you want to come over to make it clear that this was just sex to you, no need. You walking out the door after I told you I love you-“ your breath gets caught in your throat but you power through. “That made things pretty clear.”

“That’s not-“ this time you cut him off.

“No Andy. Unless you’re about to say ‘I’m leaving Laurie’ this conversation is over.” You pause waiting for him to say something, anything. After the longest moment of silence you’ve ever experienced in your life passes you hang up.

It’s like you have no more tears left. You stand there alone in your sad apartment feeling the worst you have in a long time. You decide you need to move on, avoid Andy at all costs and live your life like you used to before the tornado that he was, came blustering in.

#andy barber #andy barber x reader #reader insert #chris evans #like I’m gonna lose you

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 3 months

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Hey raven, there gonna be a Crowley ssr card (im not joking)

[Referencing this post!]

RIP Cater 💀 Now he knows how Trey feels whenever his birthday gets overshadowed by Halloween event news…

It’s true what they say, boys (nb). Cope hard enough and your wishes and prayers for NPCs to become actual cards will become a reality… Happened with Rollo, now it’s happening with Crowley—and presumably other NRC Staff. (I wonder if Year 4 of JP anniversary will feature staff in the groovy with Grim??)

IT’S SO FUNNY THAT THEY MADE THE MOST USELESS STAFF MEMBER THE FIRST STAFF CARD 😭 I thought for sure they would “save the best for last” but I guess Crowley isn’t really “the best”, huh… BUT HEY, at least now we can chuck him into battles against OBs and make him be a responsible adult and actually work to earn his coin 💰

I hope we get vignettes and not just furniture for Crowley! It would be cool to have a short story that centers around him, even if it’s just him goofing around and being unproductive. I’ll happily take a day in the life of Crowley anytime!!

I have so many questions about how Crowley would work gameplay-wise?????? ?? ? ? ????? ?? ? I wonder if we’ll be able to make staff members attend class…? But that’s odd, isn’t it?? Why would teachers be studying? And what happens if there’s a situation where like. Crowley is a student but also Crowley crashed in for a Special Lesson segment? Double Crowley?!?!?!?! The Spiderman meme where they point at each other?? Or will staff not be able to attend lessons at all and you just have to feed them materials to level them up outside of class… (You know what, leeching off of resources that the students worked hard to farm is very in-character for Crowley, so if this is the case then I won’t be upset 😂) What about Duo Magic??? Will Crowley actually be able to combo with a student??? Or will it be with Grim or whatever staff card is coming next...?

His card art looks hella cool ✨ It’s really atmospheric but also has a bit of that unique Crowley flair if you notice where exactly he’s seated (on his own damn desk www) while posing so sassily. And is that the word RAVEN literally making up the teeth at the end of his key-like staff????? That’s so Crowley of him…

What I am slightly concerned about is…

***Spoilers for the full Crowley card illustration + book 7 main story below the cut!!!***

… Why is the composition of Malleus’s Dorm Uniform card and Crowley’s card kinda similar…

Malleus is clearly turned to the side, but the slight worm’s eye view is the same and the lighting is somewhat close (relatively dark)… and both of them are holding staves while sitting. Plus the timing of Crowley dropping mid-book 7… AND sharing elements in Malleus’s Masquerade (Crowley notoriously wears a mask) groovy of all things (similar angle, chandelier overhead)… With the fan theory of Crowley actually being Malleus’s missing dad at an all-time fever pitch in popularity, this has me a little worried (since I personally think the theory doesn’t have a lot of solid proof and leaves a lot to be explained in terms of his actions).

Maybe that’s me overthinking it, but TWST has been known to intentionally do parallel or mirrored designs before (though I’ll admit this instance isn’t as clear cut as previous instances). I’m just pointing out what I see and I’ll leave the final judgment up to you, dear readers! I’m sure the “Crowley is Malleus’s dad” theorists will be in a frenzy picking apart these details www

#twst #twisted wonderland #Malleus Draconia #Dire Crowley #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #spoilers #notes from the writing raven #question #Rollo Flamme #Grim #twst theory #twst theories #twisted wonderland theories #twisted wonderland theory #Cater Diamond #Trey Clover #Spiderman

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freddie-77-ao3 · 2 months

Text

Percy Jackson-esque Chapter Titles for a fic i'm writing:

We have friends in holy places (and unholy- Hello Lady Hera!)

What’s Up, Random Person, We’re Kidnapping and Adopting You

Yeah, The Beach Is Nice- Thank You For Not Drowning Us

Hazel Was Dead and Still Knows More Than You

Thank Fuck For The Egyptian- How the Hell Did We End Up In Great Britain

Annabeth Is Obsessed and Bianca Is Possessed- There Goes Christmas

Question Of Our Lives and Today Especially: What The Hell Is Going On?!

Now Would Be A Good Time To Be Anyone Else

Call The Police Because We May Have Just Murdered A Mortal

Ask And You Shall Receive… Sometime In The Next Twenty Years Probably

A Guinea Pig, A Dandelion, A Pine Tree, An Olive Tree and Two Embarrassed Girls Walk Into A Bar

Satan Or Santa? Neither Should Exist And Yet Somehow They’re Both Knocking On Our Tent Door

A Slight Reprieve From The Last Chapter: Connor Comes For You With The Question ‘Do Tents Have Doors?’

And We’re Back, Why Did You Guys Think Our R&R Would Last Long?

Sugar, Spice, Almost Dying Twice (Today)

Would You Put ‘Cheating Death Almost Daily’ Under Experience Or Special Skills?

An Inspirational Trip Through Hell- Persephone Makes Good Brownies

Those Commercials Where People Screw Up The Most Basic Of Tasks In The Most Idiotic Fashion Ever Describes The Current Situation

As The Prophecy Foretold (We Made It Up, But It Came True)

Living Normally? In This Economy?

And Then The Wolves Came… Sike (Thank Fuck)

The Snails Paced Chocolate Bunny Gives Mixed Messages But Good Cereal

What The Hades Is Going On, Someone Explain

Apparently Exploding A Volcano Makes Us 'Irresponsible’

Why Are Cats So Vengeful

Oh Look! An Unhelpful Old Person!

The Adults Are More Annoying Than Leo Valdez and Nico Di Angelo Put Together

They Scream For Ice Cream, I Scream For Sanity

McDonald’s And Raising The Dead- Tuesday Never Looked So Good

Unfortunately, I’m Still Not Dead Or A Dolphin (Not For Lack Of Effort)

Eggs Apparently Don’t Like Being Lost At Sea

I’m Packing Up My Crayons And Leaving

Viva La Pluto, Fuck You Guys

A Guide To Giving Up

Hopefully We Can Do This Without Dying This Time

Lady Dirt Face Fucks Us Over- Apparently Today CAN Get Worse

Apparently The Horse Is A God, And Honestly, Fuck The World- But Not You Potty Sludge

If Love Is In The Air Then We’re Wearing Gas Masks- How We Almost Started A War On Accident

If Love Is An Open Door We Should Close It- Aphrodite And Cupid Both Suck

Vegan Ice Cream Sandwiches For One

I Call Shotgun (Said The Invisible Girl and The Literal Ghost)

I Fucked My Way Into This Mess, I’ll Fuck My Way Out Of It

Things Go Horribly Wrong (Or Horribly Right? It’s Hard To Tell At This Point)

The Fine Art Of Bullshit

We Are Being Hunted And Killed (Why Is This Normal And How Can We Stop It?)

Previously On ‘The Chaos Chronicles”

Cool, Cool, Cool, Cool. Actually It’s Not- Who Lit Katie’s Hair On Fire?!

I’d Like To Say This Is Shocking, But That Would Just Be A Lie

One Hundred And One Monsters, And Twenty Times A Therapist Was Needed

I Am Honestly Surprised That We Are Still Alive, And Apparently So Are The Gods

You Will Never Be A God

Blackmail Only Works If I Care

An Offer I Can Definitely Refuse

Hush Little Baby, Don’t You Cry, You’ll Give Away Our Location, And Then We’ll Die

Only Come Back With Back Up Or A Burger- Maybe Donuts

Doomsday Or Not, Let Me Go Back To Bed, I Haven’t Slept In A Week And I Don’t Care

Practise Doesn’t Make Perfect, Practise Makes A Forest Fire And A Flood

Sea Foam Speaks and A New Person Shatters My Dreams

The Labyrinth Apparently Doesn’t Murder The Already Dead, So Can We Just Die Already?

For A Moment I Forgot Gravity, And As It Seems So Did The Sky, Which Is Good Because I’d Hate To Die Before Breakfast

And God Told Us To Run A Marathon- What Happened To Normal Executions?

At Some Point The Universe Just Needs To Kill Us

There Is Not Enough Faith For This,

No Words Can Explain Dan, The God Of Moths and Accidental Demon Summoning

The Endless and Mysterious Ocean Becomes A Bit Less So, And I Should Have Paid For Diving Lessons

If Best Plus Bitter Equal Better, Then I Am Way Better Than Everyone

Firecrackers And Actual Crackers- Where Is The Cheese

He Likes Art. Terrible Art, But Still Art So I Suppose I’ll Forgive The Sword Through My Head

Hazel Drives Worse Than Thalia Which Says A Lot Because Thalia Crashed Into A Lake- Oh Wait

What Do You Do When The World Almost Ends- And No Nico, The Answer Isn’t Go To McDonalds

This Wasn’t Supposed To Happen (Just Like Me)

Can I Rewrite My Life Story, Because If So I’m Starting With This

I Wasn’t Prepared For Parenthood When I Stopped A Kidnapping, I’m Seven

Patting My Own Back, No One Appreciates Me, Fuck This And Really The Rest Of My Life

Apparently Dying Is Not An Excuse For Being Late, So Fuck You Too

Buying Happy Meals For The Dead Isn’t An Excuse For Being Late

Caped God? I Was Hoping You Had Said Cape Cod

Incoherent Screaming Is Our Theme Song, And I Feel A New Episode On

Who Told Apollo He Could Give Us Presents, Because MCR Is Not A Proper Wake Up Call

It’s Jesus Who Ruined Our Lives This Time, Folks

Don’t Awaken The Ancient One, She Has Anxiety

I Did Not Know That Could Kill Someone, But You Learn Something New Every Day

The Gods Themselves Want Me Dead, You’re Not Special, Todd

Doritos And Death, A How To On Properly Waking And Raising The Dead Featuring A Trip To Alaska

What Was I Thinking? I’m Pretty Certain I Wasn’t

News To No One: The Previously Dead Can’t Drive

I Really Hate Saving The World Actually

How Many Times Is That Threat Going To Work Considering It’s Not Serious? A Surprising Number

Everyone Asks Who We Are, Not How We Are, And Honestly I’m Pretty Hungry

The Gods Hate Me And I Don’t Know Why (I Do Know Why, But I Don’t Care, And Honestly They Shouldn’t Either)

Which Circle Of Hell Are We In Now, Because I Was Not Planning On A Field Trip To Tartarus

We Master The Elements (Some Of Them- We Also Torch And Flood New England)

In Which We Almost Die Again And No One Bats An Eye

Our Lives Would Be Incredibly Saddening If We Could Sit Down And Look At Them, But Leo Burned Our Chairs

The Houseplants Try To Eat Us, And Katie Gets Mad

We Babysit For A God, And Then Adopt His Kids- Surprisingly He’s Fine With This

Dreams Do Come True And That Is Absolutely Not A Good Thing

There Goes My Best Bargaining Chip (Oh And Also His Head)

A Series Of Horrible Decisions- Who Decided I Was The Leader

Hylla, Please Don’t Leave Us- Oh, You Can Give Us A Box Of Cereal? Nevermind

Sunshine And Rainbows Are Meant To Mean Happiness Not War- Iris and Apollo Destroy Things

Please Don’t Hit Me With Another Brick

We Were Happy And Then There Was A Giant Pigeon

Oh My Holy Fucking Shit That Was Not The Right Lever

In Which Swimming With Sharks Almost Leads To Death And Yet Saves Our Lives

There Is No Highway To Hell As It Turns Out, Only Backroads, And Now Nico And Thalia Are Disappointed

And Then The Sky Almost Crushed Us Because It Fell And Honestly I’m Never Trusting You Again

There Goes Normal Society, Say Bye-Bye, Miranda

Are We Supposed To Live Through This?

The Dick Who Hands Out Toothbrushes Also Assigns Us A Death Quest And This Is Why We Don’t Celebrate Holidays

Sorry For Cursing You Out, Please Fix My Life

The Plan Checks Out- We Can Do This! (Spoiler Alert- We Can’t)

Three Hundred And Sixty Five Times We Can Say Fuck In A Hour

Please Let Me Pass Out On Your Lawn

Apparently Yelling Fuck At The Sky Is Considered ‘Disrespectful’ And I Haven’t A Fucking Clue Why

Yes Sir, That Is A Lot Of Blood, And No Sir, She Doesn’t Need That Leg

That One Time We Accidentally End Up In The Slaughter Sea, And How That Manages To End Up With A New Leader Of The Amazon Empire And Thalia Gets A Girlfriend

Yes, I’m Aware I Look Gay, Thank You Very Much, I’m Here To Be Queer

This Person Is Nico di Angelo With Less Shits To Give, And Honestly That Scares Me

A Good Idea With Bad Results And A Bad Idea With Surprising Results- The Ending Will Astound You

Never Thought I’d Literally Be Shut In The Closet Again, But Life’s Full Of Surprises

One Million Pounds Of Oranges And Sadness, Sixty Thousand Pounds Of Mangos, And A Truck Full Of Happiness- Monsters Not Welcome

Who Packed The Blueberry Muffins?

Nevertheless She Persisted, And Yet Just Like That, She Gave Up

What The Hell Is This, What The Hell Is That, Why The Hell Am I Here, What The Hell, *Moonwalks Into Hell*: A Brief Summary Of Life

All Is Fair In Being The First One In The Shower

We Accidentally Summon An Army Of Lost Souls

All Our Nightmares Come True And We Prove We’re Idiots

Life Gave ‘Lia Lemons. She Squeezed Them In My Eyes. Please No More Lemons.

Trying To Play Nice To The Gods Never Ends Well. In Other Words, Percy Is An Olive Tree

What’s Happening? I’m Digging My Own Grave, That’s What

Finger Guns, Peace Signs, and Middle Fingers To Nowhere- Home At Last

In Jason’s Defense, He Tried, But The Dragon Was More Interesting

Keeping A Family Alive Can Be Difficult, Especially With No Education and More Monsters A Day Than Cash (Twenty Dollars)

Thalia Tries To Sing Over Annabeth And Percy Arguing And All That Happens Is A Noise Complaint

At This Point, Murder Is Less Of A Passing Thought And More Of An ‘It’s Only A Matter Of Time’

Cousin Bonding Time Doesn’t Usually Include The Gods, But There Are Burgers So…

According To The Crazy Titan Lord Kronos, Asking If A Newborn Looks Like A Rock Is A Question That Will Result In The Death Of The Asker

Oh Joy, I’m Facing Scrutiny Over My Love Life From Immortal Preteens

Oh Things Couldn’t Be Worse When Your Parents Run The Universe Oh Things Couldn’t Be Worse When There’s A Vote To Kill Us (Leo stop using Jazz hands!)

We Have The Worst Family Reunion Ever 3.0

Barbed Wire Instead Of String, The Fates Hate Me More Than You Might Think

Zombies, Zombies Everywhere, Wave Your Hands Up In The Air

The World Is A Different Place When You Know What The World Is (Spoiler Alert: It’s Your Murderous Great Grandma)

The Refrigerator Seems Empty, Much Like My Soul

Ah, The Smell Of Success, It Smells Like Bullshit

My Heart Is Broken (Like Those Crackers That Bianca’s Eating)

Utter Chaos: Now Featuring Camp Half Blood And Literal Blood

Family Drama Destroys My Life

Family Drama 2.0: Family Drama Destroys California

So Then A God Says We ‘Will Save Humanity’, And Thalia Says ‘What The Fuck’

Two Middle Aged Women Start Screaming In Walmart

The Main Braincell Holder Is Asleep, God Doesn’t Exist, And Starting Forest Fires Is A Normal Way To Deal With Stress

Hell Is Just Life On Steroids

Queerly Beloved, We Are Gathered Here Togay… A.K.A. A Bet Ruins Rachel Elizabeth Dare’s Life

Normal People Would Avoid This, But The Two Most Normal People Here Used To Be Dead Or Will Die When A Stick Lights On Fire, So We Can’t Have High Hopes

We Try (And Fail, But Hey, It’s The Thought That Counts, Right?)

So THAT’S Where The Greek Fire Went. Sorry, Bus Driver.

Percy Has His Gay Awakening In The Form Of His Grandfather (Technically. He’s Also Technically His First Cousin Once Removed Or Something- Annabeth’s cousin maybe?)

You're Annoying Me To Death With Your Monologue So I Have To Kill You Now

What Can Go Wrong Will Go Wrong Doesn’t Mean You Should Set My Bed On Fire

Thalia Does Shock Therapy Meaning She Electrocutes People When They Say Things

We Should Know By Now That Yelling Doesn't Solve Things But We Don’t, And The Gods Don’t Either

Most Of My Life Is Incredibly Traumatizing, But This Is New

Who The Fuck Invited The Norse?!

Okay, I Thought The Norse Were Enough, Why Are The Magicians Here?

Wow. Popcorn. The Roman’s Worst Nightmare.

So First The World Almost Ends, And Then The World Ends But It Gets Better, And Now It’s Ending Again?

Prophecies Can Fuck Off, And So Can Apollo

“Treacherous Nephew In The Tuxedo” Should Sound Funny, But It Doesn’t, And That Makes Leo Sad

Why Is A Titan Making Dad Jokes?

Falling Into A Dumpster Was The Highlight Of My Day, What Is Life

Grieving For The Living Is Just As Hard As Grieving For The Dead

Please Forget That I Tried To Kill You

In My Defence, An Invisible Higher Power Who Has The Ability To Strike Me Down Made Me Do It

Let Out A Boo For The Boom Man

Twenty McDonald’s Happy Meals And A Gun- Godly Gifts Are Awesome

We Enter The Maze Of Doom (This Time With Fabulous Prizes)

Two Brothers Are Not Happy As A Sister Cheers On Two More Brothers As They Duel To The Death- (Triton & Tyson & Kymopoleia & Percy & Anteus Have Sibling Bonding Time)

The Eight Year Old With A Gun Manages To Save And Then Destroy A Life

Hello, I’m Queer, And Full Of Fear. Please Kill Me Now

Children Try To Make Plans (It Doesn’t Go So Well)

Thalia Grace Once Again Proves That Being A Demigod Really Fucking Sucks

It Don’t “Do Be Like That Sometimes” Leo, We Are In HELL

#pjo hoo toa #pjo #riordanverse #pjo series #pjo fandom #fanfiction #family forged

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