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#i need to finish work to do better pieces but man i can only doodle
millidank · 5 months
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"It's gonna be okay, as long as I'm at your side, Carlo." - Romeo
Bless your ears with this * T-poses *
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snuffkip · 4 months
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Little things I have done recently that have been really good for my art:
1) START A REFERENCE FOLDER
I have aphantasia, and I draw on mobile (aka with my silly shaky fingers) so for me having something to refer back to really helps. But even if you don't have aphantasia, you should REFERENCE, REFERENCE, REFERENCE. I promise professionals do it too! Its a great way to find new poses to try to try and copy, and stop your poses from all being stale or being anatomically incorrect.
2) START AN "ART I LIKE" FOLDER
It is SO motivating and SO inspiring to have art you like easily on hand! You can reference from it and try and copy it as a personal study: do you prefer yours or theirs? What did you do differently? Why? Saving it means you can come back to it and observe it; what techniques did they use? How could you mimic them? How do they create their intended effect?
3) REDRAW OLD ART
Of course, you shouldn't be doing this constantly, because you need time to draw other things! But it so so so validating and motivating to see how much you have improved. It helps you reflect on what you've changed and why. It also helps you pick up on stuff that still might need improvement ("ah man, that background is worse than I would draw now, but my one now still isn't as good as I'd like. Now I know my backgrounds need work!")
4) DOODLE SHEETS
Oh my god, i never used to do doodle sheets, but they are so much fun. It's a great way to get a load of art in without it being high pressure, and enabling you to focus on your lineart. And you get to be very silly with them, because if you mess up, it's only a small corner of the canvas, and it's not too hard to do it again! Not everything has to be a big super challenging piece. Have some fun.
5) CHALLENGE YOURSELF
That art idea that's too hard for you? Try it. You can always come back to it. You can keep coming back to it over a year if you like. There's no time limit. If you finish it and don't like it, it's not the end of the world. You can always redraw it when you've gotten to a higher skill level. But it's a good way to strengthen your artists muscles and force you to think about how to actually achieve big pieces. And hey, you might absolutely love it and have achieved something really cool! Sometimes art comes out better than you expect and you have to trust the process and you go wow I made this! Just don't ONLY make these or you risk burnout, give yourself time to do little doodles and fun other things as well!
And an obligatory P.S: If these aren't for you currently or at all, you don't have to do them! Art should be fun first and foremost. What works for me might not work for you. Do what makes you happy, no art has ever been improved by the artist being sad while making it. <3
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thebigpalooka · 2 years
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Hi, I haven't picked up a pencil and drawn anything for a few months now, mainly because I've been too exhausted from work too much--except write here on Tumblr, which I guess is creative. Recently I've been doodling on the menu board at work, but I'm not confident in how my drawings are turning out. Any words of advice on how to get back to doing what I've always loved?
You know what, I DO have one small piece that I think can apply to anyone. I think for most of us, if we try to draw 'a picture' when we're not feeling inspired, it won't be great. It just won't. You can draw it anyway, but it will probably feel like work and you'll probably get frustrated and maybe not finish. That's not the end of the world, but I think it is better to give yourself permission not to aim towards any real goal at all.
I think most of us have at least one thing we can doodle without trying. Maybe it's flowers, maybe it's hands, maybe it's calligraphy, maybe it's cats. I remember seeing some very talented artists on Twitter talking about drawing pages of spirals or Spider-Mans. For me, it's mermaids! When I want to draw but I have no thoughts, I draw mermaids. Then, when something comes along I WANT to draw, I'm warmed up. Occasionally, I'll also end up with a mermaid doodle I quite like.
And then the rest of the time, give yourself permission to doodle on the menu board or anywhere else and not worry about the final result too much. It's going to be one drawing of many, it only needs to be good enough to be part of a series of 1000, or 10,000. That's how I get through my webcomic; every panel doesn't need to be a masterpiece, nobody minds and neither should we.
Hope that's at least a little bit helpful!
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rbillustration · 2 years
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5, 8 and 30 c:
5. Estimate of how much of your art you post online vs. the art you keep for yourself
I don't really keep much purely for myself, but I'd say it's about a 60/40 split to how much stays on my Patreon/Ko-fi vs how much goes public. Only finished art really goes public whereas supporters get all the sketches and doodles - some of those I make for myself, but I share with supporters, if that makes sense?
8. What's an old project idea that you've lost interest in
I used to work on a novel/comic called Wired that I was so focused on trying to publish and then over time I realised it just wasn't the story I wanted to tell any more. It was a very gritty, cyberpunk-style action story and as I've got older, I've moved towards wanting to make stories more in that cross-section between fantasy, steampunk and sci-fi (Final Fantasy has definitely had a hand in that), and ones that are generally more uplifting. I'm in the planning stages of a new novel at the moment, but am deliberately not talking about it very much, so I don't burn myself out hard like I did with Wired before it was ever done.
30. What piece of yours do you think is underrated
HMM this is hard because 'underrated' to me means that it didn't get the response I hoped for, I assume? And I don't want to ever seem like I'm not grateful for the response I do get to my art.
That said, my 'Hanged Man' piece didn't really get as much interest as I would have hoped, given that I personally felt I made some improvements in anatomy, composition and use of value. But it also requires some context to fully understand, so I understand why people might have felt they didn't relate to it. However, I always hope people can simply look at my art and appreciate how it looks even if they don't know the subject.
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Another one I feel this way about would be 'Sundered'. I made a 3D mockup to get the lighting right, did studies, and generally worked very hard make it look convincing. However this one requires even more context to understand - you'd need to play through 3 expansions of FFXIV to fully know what it's about - but visually, I hoped it might strike a chord with some people. It's also fanart, which for a lot of people seems to do better than original content, but for me that is very rarely the case!
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the-travelling-witch · 11 months
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thank you so much ;^; i'm proud of myself too and i do hope to pass this last one too, otherwise it's a september matter lmao
i will make you accept compliments in a way or another 🤺 i'm sure i'm not the only one here, so it's an undefined number of people against you >:3 (also thanks for liking that awful pun, cyno got the better of me)
i think that, in a modern setting like your au, xiao would be one of those average tattooed people, they have their good bunch of drawings and writings but still got plenty of untouched skin, so the possibilities for tattooes are almost endless! but yeah arms and chest and back tattooes >>>>>>>>>> neck too ngl they're hot 👀
with scara is more of a "annoying x annoyed" trope (if it actually exists, otherwise i just invented it), but nonetheless even if he has good reflex one way or another he want flick my forehead unless he wants me to pinch his cheeks like a baby in exchange (or to offer me dinner)
anyway, just finished re-reading the piece cuz i needed the gut twisting feeling to sink just the right way and MAN HOW COULD YOU QwQ THE DESPAIR THE ANGER THE LONELINESS THE PAIN THE EVERYTHING GAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH T-T kazuha the only one trying to cope in a decent way BUT TOMO QwQ
you're an amazing and cruel writer holly TvT
— ❄️
you can be proud!! and it’ll work out, i’m sure of it!! <3
too bad that i’m the sole authority on this blog and democracy means nothing to me /j; it’s not that i dislike receiving compliments, hell one of my receiving love languages is words of affirmation, i just don’t believe any of them are true and people are just being nice, bless their hearts i think i can go toe to toe with cyno on puns, albedo loves it
yeah i agree (again, i have my ideas that i will throw at people eventually, one of them is ofc angsty heheh just a smidge though) there’s still plenty of soft skin for me to touch doodle on; maybe i do have to write his second part next, i have some tasty ideas (i’m shooting myself in the foot with this bc how could anyone compare?? ㅠㅠ)
anyway speaking about neck tattoos, scara… every trope is valid as a trope even if it’s just made up but i think the “annoying (bc they care) x annoyed (but they actually care so much)” trope has been floating around; also let me tell you, scara already wants to buy you dinner, you’re just giving him excuses jshsh
HOW COULD YOU has got to be my favourite reaction to get on any kind of angst piece, it’s just funny; especially bc i can guarantee you that i was whining in my best friend’s chat about how none of the scenes are painful enough… oops (it happens every time)
xiao’s part is by far my favourite though, sorry blatant favouritism, but i had this very vivid scene in my mind for it + my two beta readers were yelling in the entire comment section which was very encouraging (also i hope we all caught that jade symbolises harmony, virtue and eternity, what a detail~ /lh); kazuha definitely copes the best but i think xiao is getting there, childe and aether on the other hand…
thank you, being a cruel writer means so much to me ^^ at least when it comes to angst what’s comfort?
“i promise, honey, i can feel your pain; and maybe i enjoy it just a little bit, does that make me insane?” me when someone says my angst hurt; sorry i have this song stuck in my head and i just kinda fits here hshsh
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princehrry-writings · 3 years
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Daddy?
happy Easter if you celebrate it!! I've been working on this for a couple weeks!! It's the longest one-shot I think I've ever written.
word count: 5180
please please please flood my inbox with your thoughts and comments!! i want to know what you think!!!
warnings: some swearing (i think), absent birth father, single mom, nothing too serious.
“And who might this be?” He said softly, hoping that he wouldn’t frighten her.
“Tell Harry your name baby,” Y/n brushed a stray piece of hair away from her daughter's face who shied away behind her mom’s leg.
“Stella,” the little girl mumbled, fidgeting with the jeans she hid behind. He felt his heart flutter. She was just so freakin cute.
“It’s lovely to meet you Stella, m’Harry!”
“You talk funny.” The child said, making Harry laugh and Y/n gasp, scolding her daughter for being rude while trying not to laugh at her blunt comment.
“Stella Rose, that was not a very nice thing to say!” Y/n softly reprimanded.
“Sowwy Hawwy,” He chuckled, letting her know he forgave her.
or
Y/n is a single mom and Harry wants to be a part of the family.
.
.
.
Getting pregnant was definitely not something Y/n wanted to be doing at 20 years old. She had a boyfriend and the career of her dreams but as soon as the news broke, one of those things was no longer true. Her ex skipped town faster than she could even finish telling him she was pregnant, so Y/n was left to her own devices since her family was so far away.
She was a songwriter. She had worked with all the big names in the industry from Taylor Swift to All Time Low. She was known for being able to write in any genre, that’s what set her apart and why people were clawing at the chance to work with her.
And then she got pregnant. She kept writing songs until she was eight and a half months along but due to minor complications, her doctor had ordered her to stay home. So she did. She stayed home, had the baby, and raised her all by herself. Now that baby, whose name is Stella, is four years old and is traveling the world with her mom. Y/n had gone back to work when Stella was a year old. At first, she would leave her baby with a sitter, but eventually, she got to a point where Stella was old enough to come along to writing sessions and quietly color or play with toys in a corner. She really liked going to work with her mom. She got to see a bunch of cool places and meet a lot of nice people.
And one of those people was Harry Styles. Y/n had met him a few times back when he was with One Direction, had even tried to work with the band a few times but things never lined up right. But now he was making his second studio album and only wanted the best of the best to write with him so naturally, he called Y/n. Harry knew she had a kid but he didn’t expect her to bring said kid to a writing session. Harry didn’t really mind- he loves kids, but his friends had been known to curse a lot and he didn’t want to cause any harm to the child.
He made sure to give everyone a stern talking to, even though Kid already knew to hold his tongue (his little ones had repeated some colorful words a few times). He wanted everything to go right, needed it to. Y/n was more than just another songwriter.
“Y/n! I’m so glad you could make it!” Harry smiled as she walked into the studio. She smiled back, walking into his open arms for a hug.
“Thank you so much for having me, I’m super stoked to be working with you!” She said, slightly muffled by his neck. Harry looked down behind Y/n and saw a little girl that looked exactly like the woman currently in his arms looking right back up at him. When the two pulled away Harry was quick to kneel down to her height.
“And who might this be?” He said softly, hoping that he wouldn’t frighten her.
“Tell Harry your name baby,” Y/n brushed a stray piece of hair away from her daughter's face who shied away behind her mom’s leg.
“Stella,” the little girl mumbled, fidgeting with the jeans she hid behind. He felt his heart flutter. She was just so freakin cute.
“It’s lovely to meet you Stella, m’Harry!”
“You talk funny.” The child said, making Harry laugh and Y/n gasp, scolding her daughter for being rude while trying not to laugh at her blunt comment.
“Stella Rose, that was not a very nice thing to say!” Y/n softly reprimanded.
“Sowwy Hawwy,” He chuckled, letting her know he forgave her. Although he wasn’t mad, he understood Y/n had to teach her not to say things like that even if they were funny.
When Stella had settled at a table out of the way of the adults in the room with her coloring book and a juice box, the work began. Y/n and Harry sat at a piano bench ( he hoped she couldn’t hear his pounding heart) while Kid and Mitch, along with Jeff, sat scattered around the other furniture in the studio.
“So, I have a couple of ideas that I’ve been sitting on that I think you might like. You can look through this and see if there's something that catches your eye.” Y/n said, handing Harry a notebook. She tried to ignore the tingle she felt run up her arm when their fingers brushed. He flipped around the pages, noticing random little doodles in the corners and in between lines, and the somewhat messy but readable handwriting. He thought it was cute how she connected her s’s to her t’s and k’s when she wrote.
One page, in particular, caught his attention.
Golden, Golden, Golden
As I open my eyes
Hold it, focus
So you take me back to the light
I know you were way too bright for me
I’m hopeless, broken
So you wait for me in the sky
Brown my skin just right
“Is this a verse or a chorus?” He asked, pointing it out to her. She shrugged saying she didn’t really know yet but it would probably be a verse.
“I like it a lot,” He said and she smiled, picking up her guitar and strumming it to the tune she had thought of for the words. He listened and nodded along, already getting ideas for where to go next.
“I like the golden thing. I think that could be a good hook, something like we’re so golden,” Kid spoke up, tapping his fingers along to what she was playing.
“Or you’re so golden,” Mitch suggested. Harry and Y/n’s eyes widened at the same time, both looking up at each other when they heard the line.
“You’re so golden, you’re so golden…” Y/n hummed.
“I’m out of my head, and I know what you said about hearts get broken,”
“How about I’m out of my head and I know that you’re scared because hearts get broken,”
“I like that better, yeah!” Harry smiled, nodding along to the beat.
Y/n looked over 30 minutes later to see Stella had sprawled out on the floor with her arms folded beneath her head, first finger stuck into her mouth, and she smiled, breathing out a laugh.
“She’s so precious,” Harry murmured from beside you. Your gaze found his and the smile on your face widened a little bit.
“She is, isn’t she.” She said, pride present in her eyes.
“Looks just like you as well,”
“Yeah thank god, I don’t know what I would have done if she had ended up looking like her sperm donor,” Malice dripped from the end of her phrase. Y/n couldn’t even entertain the idea of her looking like the man who helped create her. That nerve was still a little raw, not because she had any remaining feelings, but because he had abandoned not only her but the beautiful baby girl who was napping not 15 feet away from her. She figured they were better off without him, yet her heart always shattered a little when Stella asked if she had a daddy like the people she sees on tv.
“I couldn’t imagine finding out the woman I loved was pregnant and then leaving her, any real man would have stayed.” His eyes were genuine, which she appreciated. Most people would say they felt sorry for her, pity dripping from their gaze, but she didn’t need pity, didn’t need people to feel sorry for her. But what Harry said was out of pity, he just honestly couldn’t understand how anyone would abandon a child.
“Yeah well, I guess I just wasn’t the woman he loved.” She said, looking back at her baby. Stella made all of that pain from when he disappeared worth it.
Harry wanted to be able to take that pain away.
---
“Hey I know it’s late, but I have this idea and I want you to hear it,” Harry’s raspy voice chimed through the speaker of Y/n’s phone. She glanced at the time, reading 1:30 AM, and sighed.
“Ok,”
“Come open the door,” He said.
“Wait what? You’re here?”
“Yeah, come on. It’s cold out here.”
“Ugh, hold on,” The woman sighed, hanging up and tip-toeing out of her room so her footsteps wouldn’t wake the sleeping four-year-old in the next room over. Her door was open and she was a light sleeper.
The door swung open and Harry stood there with a small smile on his face, burrowing as deep into his coat as he could to shield himself from the cold air outside.
“Hi!” His cheeky smile made Y/n’s heart flutter.
This was the first of many times he would show up at her place in the middle of the night.
---
Another night of Harry coming over late with a song idea he couldn’t wait to show Y/n, although now it was more he would come over after Stella fell asleep and the two would watch movies and talk, and sometimes write songs (even though the album was done).
The pair were perched on the couch in a heated conversation about whether or not pineapple belongs on pizza (it does and that is a fact not an opinion) when the sound of little footsteps caught their attention. They both looked up from where they sat at the sound of loud crying coming down the stairs, seeing a small child with tears barreling down her face, cheeks flush an angry red, first finger stuck in her mouth, teddy bear clutched tightly to her chest.
“Baby what’s wrong?” Y/n cooed, getting up and sweeping her into her arms. She went and sat back down on the couch, cradling the baby to her chest, brushing her hair out of her face, and rocking her back and forth.
“Scawwy dweam mommy,” She hiccuped into her mom’s neck, where she hid her face. Her tiny hands clutched onto her shirt, finger stick tucked between her lips.
Harry held back a coo at the little girl, feeling himself fall further and further for the little family of two sitting before him. He hadn’t been able to take his mind off of them since that first day he met Stella. He’d always had a schoolboy crush on Y/n since they first met all those years ago but knew it was one-sided when she introduced her boyfriend one of the last times they had seen each other. As fate would have it though, they found their way back to each other. Neither of them could deny the feelings they held, but Y/n was scared to bring someone into the picture because she didn’t want Stella to get attached to someone who wouldn’t be permanent. She was lucky her ex left before he ever got the chance to meet Stella, the kid had no clue what she was missing, therefore didn’t have any pain due to her absent father.
She would be lying if she said she didn’t imagine Harry stepping into that role. But she couldn’t ask that of him. He was at a time in his career where he didn’t have time to be the father of a four year old.
But life is full of surprises.
“Hawwy.” The baby whimpered and crawled off of Y/n’s chest, into his lap and snuggled her head right into him like it was where she was meant to be all along. His heart just about burst when the little girl fisted his shirt, tucking herself into him. His arms instinctively wrapped around her, cradling her into him and rocking her back and forth like her mother had been only moments ago.
Stella calms down almost immediately, to Y/n’s surprise. It usually takes her a while to console her baby from bad dreams, but all Harry had to do was hold her, and boom, no more tears.
“You alright petal?” He cooed into her hair, soothing his hand up and down her back to keep her calm. She nodded, letting out a huge yawn and closing her eyes, falling back asleep in his arms.
Y/n was astonished. Stella had never fallen asleep on anyone but her mom or her grandmother. She’s known Harry for a few months and was acting like he’d been there her whole life.
“Wow… she loves you.” Y/n whispered, not really meaning for him to hear but he did and his smile gave her the impression that he loved her too. But Stella wasn’t the only one he felt such affections for.
“Y/n....” He starts after a moment of silence, “I know this sounds crazy because we’ve only truly known each other for a few months… but I’ve had feelings for you for years. I missed my opportunity when you got with your ex but I’m here now, and I love you, and I love Stella, and I would do anything to stay in both of your lives if you’d have me. I want to be here for you, and I want to be here for her as well.” His confession shocked the woman sitting across from him.
Y/n was quiet, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought while she took in what he was saying. Trying her best to keep her fantasies of playing house with him at bay, she spoke.
“Harry, as much as all of that sounds lovely, you’re about to start press for the album and then go on tour. You’re not gonna have time to be in a relationship, and as much as I wish I could just jump into something like that, I can’t. I have her to think about…” She gestured to the toddler sleeping on him.
“She needs consistency, her life is already hectic enough.”
“So come with me!” He spouted, and then retracted a bit realizing he could wake Stella up.
“What?”
“Come with me! You two travel around already, so come on the press tour with me and then come on the big tour with me! I know this sounds impulsive and it’s probably the craziest thing I’ve ever said in my life ever, but I’ve never been more sure of anything. I know what I want Y/n, and that’s to be a part of this family. I want to be a part of your lives!”
“Harry, I-”
“Please Y/n. Give me a chance! I won’t let you down!” The gleam in his eyes shows her that he’s serious. He really does want this. Harry just hopes that Y/n can see just how willing he is, how much it would mean to him to have (what he already affectionately considers to be) his girls with him on tour.
It’s quiet, only sounds of Stella’s even breaths and the light noise of her sucking on her finger fill the room. Eventually, Y/n gathers her thoughts, mind made up.
“We’ll try it out… see how it goes….” She said, releasing a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding on to. Harry’s smile grew tenfold at her confession, reaching over and bringing her face closer to his to kiss her lips, careful not to wake the baby in his arms.
He had never been happier, Harry decides, than he is right now.
---
“Hawwy?” Stella’s voice catches Y/n’s attention from where she sits on the plane, in between her and Harry. She turns her little head to the man sitting in the aisle seat, big round eyes staring right into his.
“What is it, lovebug?” He asks, pushing her wild baby hairs away from her eyes. Y/n did her very best not to coo at the two of them. Harry had fallen perfectly into step with the mother and daughter, like this duo had been a trio all along. She was still hesitant to think of him as a father figure for Stella though, just because if things went south somehow, she didn’t want her baby suffering a loss like that (a second time).
Stella’s little fists rubbed at her tired eyes. She let out a small ‘hmph’ and laid her head on Harry’s arm, wrapping her own little arms around his.
“Awe you my daddy?” She asked and Y/n choked on her spit, looking back over at the toddler.
“Stella, baby-”
“I would love to be your daddy lovebug, but that’s not really up to me…” He spoke and glanced up at Y/n quickly, trepidation clear in his eyes. Harry was afraid he might overstep. Sure he knew that things were still new between him and Y/n but he wanted nothing more than for Stella to think of him as her dad.
“Who’s it up to?” Y/n could tell she was about to fall asleep but was fighting it in order to get her answers. She had adjusted to a more fast pace schedule quite nicely. She slept through most plane and car rides and absolutely loved being backstage at concerts. Harry thought she looked so adorable with her big noise-canceling headphones on. They had been on the road for a few months now, and it had been 8 months since Y/n decided to give him a chance.
“It’s up to mummy, baby.” He answered, his fingers tangling into his chestnut curls in a futile attempt to keep them out of his face.
Stella’s head immediately whipped to look at her mom, who sat frozen in her seat, not knowing what to do.
“Mommy, is Hawwy my daddy?” She repeated her question. Y/n had a feeling that Stella thought Harry was her real dad, the one that her mom didn’t like to talk about. She had to make sure there was no confusion.
“Not like you're thinking he is, baby. He’s not your birth dad, he didn’t help mommy make you, but if you want him to be your daddy, then that’s ok with me.” Y/n locked eyes with the man sitting across from her with a smile on his face. She was glad that they were flying private because she really didn’t need anyone ruining this moment for them. All her fears of this not working out felt stupid now.
How could she ever think that things with Harry wouldn’t work out? He was right where he belonged.
---
“Daddy!”
“Baby!” Harry knelt down to catch the running (almost) 5 year old, picking her up and spinning her around in his arms. They were in England for two weeks on tour. One for shows, and one so that Y/n and Stella could meet Harry’s mom and sister for the first time as a part of the family. Y/n had met them before as “a friend of Harry’s” many years ago, but they had never met her as Harry’s girlfriend, and they hadn’t met Stella.
Currently, Harry was in the middle of a show and Stella had just escaped her mothers arms side stage in favor of running to her dad. Y/n still couldn’t get over saying that. Harry is Stella’s dad. She doesn’t think that will ever get old.
No one knew how serious the relationship between Y/n and Harry was. The public knew they were together (after a very vague post on instagram of the mother/daughter duo napping with the caption “my girls”). Many people thought this was a PR stunt, just because it was so unlike Harry to post something like that. But he had actually confirmed in an interview that, yes, he was in a relationship with the songwriter and it was pretty serious. That was all he chose to say, in favor of keeping his secrecy, as he so famously loves to do.
What came as a shock to the audience was what the child had called Harry. They all knew about Stella, obviously, but no one would have thought that this child would think of him as her father. A lot of people didn’t like thinking about Harry being a father.
“What are you doing out here baby?” He said into her ear, making sure he could hear her over the loud noise of the audience. Most of them loved getting glimpses into his life, so the crowd was excited to see Stella out on stage and many thought it was adorable that she already thought of him as her dad.
“Missed you.” She said into his neck. The microphone had somehow picked up their little exchange and the whole crowd sighed a collective “awe” when she said that. She was perched on his hip with her little arms wrapped around his neck, her favorite place if she had to choose one. She was pretty small for a 4-year-old, most people usually thought she was younger.
Harry chuckled and saw Y/n standing there with a smile on her face. Mitch was giggling at the exchange and kept glancing back at Sarah with a knowing look of “That’s going to be us soon,” written on his face.
“I missed you too lovebug, but I’m in the middle of a show! I gotta send you back to mumma.” He said. Stella didn’t like that though, because as soon as the words left his lips she was clinging to him like he was her life force and the tears began streaming down her face. She didn’t like having to share her daddy. She just wanted to be held by him right now, and she’d be damned if she got anything but her way.
This amused everyone, the child's insistence to be in her father's arms, so he sighed and bent to her will because how could he say no to his baby girl?
So he walked over to her mom and got her headphones, slipping them on her, and walked back to his microphone with her on his hip, ready to start the next song.
“Harry and Stella” was trending on twitter the very next morning. No one could get enough of the father-daughter duo.
---
Y/n hadn’t been this nervous since she was about to give birth to Stella. She stood with her baby in her arms as Harry opened the door to his childhood home, announcing to his mom and sister that they were there. She had to wipe her sweaty palms on her jeans more than once.
Anne rushed out from wherever she had been, greeting the three of them. Stella had met Anne via FaceTime many times so it was not news to her (or Gemma) that Harry had stepped into the role of Stella’s father. She will admit she was surprised at first but then she was reminded that Harry had been in their lives for almost a year before Stella had asked the question. It wasn’t something that was rushed into.
Anne was very excited to be meeting her grandbaby and was very excited to meet the girl that had made her a grandmother.
Stella got shy, not being used to seeing “Nana” in person. Gemma had emerged from her spot in the kitchen as well, greeting everyone.
“Hello, my loves! How was the trip?” Anne said, kissing both of them on the cheek, her hand gently caressing the child's cheek in an attempt to get her out of her shell. Once she realized that this was her Nana that was standing before her, Stella reached out for Anne, silently asking to be held by her. Anne jumped at the chance, sweeping the baby into her arms and giving her a big hug, kissing her on the forehead multiple times, not being able to quell her affection for her first grandchild.
“It was good mum, Stell slept the whole way and traffic was pretty light,” Harry said, slipping his hand into his girlfriend’s, brushing his thumb back and forth trying to help calm her anxieties. For whatever reason, Y/n was worried that Gemma and Anne wouldn’t like her because she had come into their son/brother's life with a child, but it was clear that the two ladies loved the idea of Harry being Stella’s father.
“Oh, that's lovely!” She smiled, cuddling Stella impossibly closer to her. Y/n felt most of her worries melt away seeing the woman with her baby.
She felt silly for thinking Anne would be anything but happy.
---
Anne would not put Stella down for anything. The two were attached at the hip every waking second. Y/n was actually starting to miss her baby, but she appreciated getting to spend time with Harry without having to keep an eye on their little one. Gemma was absolutely smitten with Stella as well. She was very excited to be “Auntie Gem” as Stella had quickly adapted to calling her. Stella was very happy as well. She had never been around so much family in her whole life. She’d been so used to just her and her mom, and then just them and Harry, but now she had two whole grandma’s all to herself and an auntie she gets to call her own, something she never knew she was missing, that Y/n never thought her baby would get to have.
Harry was so happy to see his baby with Anne and Gemma. They had been bumped to spot number 3 and 4 on his favorite girl list, with Stella and Y/n taking spots 1 and 2. They didn’t mind one bit.
“Daddy, can we watch a movie?” Stella jumped up onto his lap as he and Y/n sat on the couch, just talking and enjoying each other's company. Y/n smiled at the girl, tightening her grip around Harry’s shoulders, resting her head in the crook of his neck.
“Of course we can lovebug! Go get Nana and auntie Gem and we’ll all pick one out together!” He replied, petting her wild baby hairs out of her eyes just like he always did.
“Auntie Gemma said to ask you if we could watch…” She paused for a second, her little finger tapping on her chin like she couldn’t remember what she was gonna say. Suddenly, she was up and running back to the hallway she had just come from. Y/n and Harry heard little whispers before she came running back out and plopped back onto Harry’s lap, on ‘oof’ erupting from him.
“This Is Us!” She finally said. Harry’s face dropped as he looked behind them to see Gemma standing there, trying to hold back her laughter. Y/n just started cackling and Stella was giggling even though she had no idea what was going on.
“Daddy’s in that movie baby,” Y/n finally calmed down enough to say to her daughter. The little one’s eyes lit up, her hands clasped underneath her chin. This was what she did when she wanted her daddy to say yes to her because she knew he couldn’t resist how adorable she was.
“Please please please!!!!!!” She whined, leaning in to place her forehead against Harry’s. She knew exactly how to get him. He caved every single time.
“Yeah, fine. We can watch it!” He finally said and all three girls cheered. Anne came in at the noise wondering what was going on.
“What’s all this?” She asked and Stella ran up to her, pulling on her
“We watching Daddy’s movie Nana!” She said, jumping up and down with a glowing beam on her face.
“Oh, are we now? Which one?” Anne asked and Stella paused.
“Daddy, how many movies awe you in?” She came back and crawled into his lap. She still had trouble saying her r’s. Her and Harry were working on it.
“Two, lovebug. But one of them you can’t watch until you’re older. It’s too scary f’you.” He said, cuddling his baby into his chest. She put on a little pout hearing that. She didn’t like when her daddy told her no, but this was something he wasn’t gonna budge on.
“Ok,” She sighed. All the adults thought this was adorable.
So they all settled in and watched the movie. Harry had a permanent blush on his face and Stella would jump up and down every time he was on the screen.
“Nana look!! That’s you!!” Anne laughed and nodded to her granddaughter.
“Yes, it is baby!”
“Mommy, why aren’t you in this movie?” She asked and everyone giggled.
“Me and Daddy didn’t know each other very well back then, baby.” Y/n laughed. Stella didn’t really understand but she didn’t say anything else.
The last few days had worn her out and that became very obvious when Harry looked down and saw his baby asleep on his chest, her first finger stuck in her mouth just like it always was when she fell asleep.
“Love, I’m gonna go lay her down, and then I’ll be right back,” Harry whispered, cradling the sleeping girl in his arms and slowly standing up. Y/n nodded, kissing his cheek before he left.
“He’s so good with her!” Gemma cooed, her face lighting up seeing her brother with his kid. A sight she was still kind of getting used to seeing.
“He really is…” Y/n smiled, “It was pretty instant too. Anytime he’d come over and she was still awake, he’d insist on putting her to bed, reading to her, singing to her, he’d bring her toys. She’s had him wrapped around her little finger since he first laid eyes on her.”
“That’s so precious,” Anne spoke up, coming to sit next to her, wrapping Y/n in her warm embrace.
“I can’t wait until you two get married!” Y/n laughed at Gemma’s confession, snuggling into Anne.
“All he has to do is ask, I’m ready to say yes!” What none of the girls knew was that Harry was standing right outside the living room, hearing everything that was being said. His mind raced back to his suitcase where a velvet box sat tucked away between all of his clothes.
He was hesitant to bring the idea up because it had only been a year, but the saying when you know, you know he thought.
He came back into the living room, acting none the wiser, sitting on the other side of the girl he was going to marry (she just didn’t know it yet), and cuddled into her just as she had cuddled into his mom.
“Daddy,” A small voice broke through the now quiet hum of the tv.
“Lovebug, what are you doing back up?” He asked, lifting the sleepy little thing into his lap.
“Scawwy dweam, daddy.” She said and he pouted, pulling her closer into his chest and snuggling her back to sleep.
Harry was exactly where he belonged in life. With his baby girl in his arms, and his Love by his side.
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writersblog20 · 3 years
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Never alone
Tom Hiddleston x reader
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Not my picture. Credits to the maker! Summary: the last two weeks has been very hard for you. You’re feeling depressed but just don’t know why. But luckily Tom’s there for you to help you go through it.
Warnings: depression, anxiety, panic attack but big fluff ( obviously)
Words: 2K
Never alone
 You strolled through the rainy streets of London to your shared house with your boyfriend Tom, who was currently filming for the Loki series season 2. He’s been away for a while now and even though you missed him like hell, you were doing okay, you were fine, and all of a sudden you were not. You couldn’t pinpoint why or what it exactly was. The only thing was sure, is that you felt like shit. Tom could read you like an open book. Even though you tried to act okay because you didn’t want to worry him while he was filming, he knew. He knew you weren’t feeling like yourself.
Tonight you would videocall with Tom but all you wanted to do was cry and curl  up in bed to just forget the world. You texted Tom, in the afternoon, that you were really tired and just go straight to bed, when you got home, but that it wasn’t something for him to worry about. He had read your text but didn’t respond, which made you actually more depressed and doubtful about everything including your relationship.
You came home and put on all the lights and petted Bobby, who never left your side since the moment you felt like shit. You knew you had to eat something but you just couldn’t stomach it. so instead you put some soft music on and got ready for a hot bath. You tried to relax but you were way to anxious to actually get some rest, so you got out not even after 15 minutes. You tried everything but panic, depression and anxiety took over and it felt like it was the worst day yet. Maybe you should call Tom and tell him about it, you thought to yourself.
You pressed the call button and waited for Tom to answer, but that never happened. You frowned and tears filled your eyes. It was not like he was filming right now because you two would call at this moment. Maybe he just doesn’t want to talk to you, you thought in your mind.
You started to pace around the room, not even hearing the music anymore. Your breath became rapid and you knew it was a panic attack. You sank down with your back against the heather. Your kneels pulled up against your chest , while you tried to hug yourself. And that was the moment when everything just became too much. You started to sob and cry like your life depended on it. Bobby took a seat in your lap and rested his head on your shoulder to give you somehow more comfort. You softly wrapped your arms around the dog and nuzzled your nose into his soft fur.
You were crying so much that you didn’t notice the door opening. Normally Bobby would get up and great the person who would walk through the door, which was in this case Tom. But he stayed with you curling up more against you. Tom’s heart sank when he saw you like this. He knew something was off because you were distant. “Love?” Tom asked softly not wanting to startle you, but he got no response so he walked up to you carefully and crouched down to you, softly touching your knees.
You got startled and looked up to the person who touched you with red puffy eyes. “Tom?” you asked as another pool of tears formed in your eyes. He smiled sympathetically at you. “I got it from here buddy, good job.” He told Bobby and he got out of your lap only to sit right next to you which made Tom smile a little at the little protector. Once Bobby was off of you, you quickly wrapped your arms around Tom as if your life depended on it. He held you tightly while you took a place in his lap on the ground clinging onto him. Tom rocked you softly back and forth while his hand went over your hair. “I’m here now darling, I got you. Your safe now. I got you” He repeated.
He sat with you as long as necessarily and whispered comforting words in your ear while giving kisses on the top of your head. Once you calmed down a bit Tom asked “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours my love?” your glazy eyes met his and you purely saw love in his pool blue comforting eyes. “I don’t even know. One day I was fine and the next I was not and I just don’t know.” he nodded “Why didn’t you tell me, love. You know I’ll always be there for you. You can tell me everything, you know that right?” you nodded and looked down with tears slipping out again. He placed his finger underneath your chin so you would look at him. His finger got a piece of hear out of the way while his palms found your cheeks. His thumb softly brushing away the tears.
“Because I don’t even know why I’m feeling so down and I didn’t want you to worry about it because I don’t know why I’m feeling this.” he nodded and shushed you when he noticed you got worked up again. “I tried relaxing and stuff but it doesn’t work.” You said softly. He nodded again and was thinking of a way to make you feel a little better even if it was just for a minute.
“why don’t we go to town and go sightseeing? You can take your camera and afterwards we get some snacks. How does that sound? I think it’s nice to get out of the house for a minute.” he looked at you hopefully and with a soft smile. You nodded. “You can even photograph me if you’d like” he chuckled a little. Tom loved to take pictures with you but sometimes felt uncomfortable with getting photographed even though he had done it a thousand times.
You got a little smile on your face and softly giggled, which made him smile. He softly kissed your nose, still cupping your cheeks, and after that his lips found yours. It was softly and full of love but it got more passionate from your side. You pressed your body closer to his and he his grip was tight around you. You went with your hand through his hair while you felt his tongue slip in. after a while you pulled back. “I’ve missed you so much.” You said while you rested your head on his shoulder and held him tightly. “I’ve missed you too darling, so much.” He gave you a kiss in your neck.
“Now let’s get your stuff and let’s take a walk.” You nodded and he helped you get up.  “Wait, but what are you doing home? I thought you came back in two weeks.” He smiled at you and softly rubbed your cheek. “I know something was up and I wanted to check on you. I have to get back in 3 days but we’re still on schedule. So I’ll still be back in two weeks.” You let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding in. You kissed him on his lips. No words were needed how grateful you were and Tom knew.
You got your camera and purse and walked hand in hand with Tom towards the Big Ben. He the umbrella above the both of you. You started to feel better. Not only because you were out but mostly because Tom was with you. You took photo’s here and there and of course of Tom but only when he didn’t notice. You really did a sightseeing tour with Tom in the late rainy evening, and it felt like you could finally breath again. You knew the feeling wasn’t completely gone but it was a start and it was nice to get out like this.
After two hours of strolling you found a little restaurant like you would find from the 80’s. It really was a retro restaurant. Mostly pink and other pastel colors that glazed the restaurant. “Let’s get something to eat” Tom said and you nodded. You walked inside and you immediately knew this was going to be your favorite place to eat at.
You sat down in a booth and looked at the menu card. There were those big milkshakes that you would see in movies with the cherry on top. While you scanned the menu with a smile on your face, Tom looked up from the menu. Smiling at how beautiful you are. The neon light illuminating your face and that perfect smile that he fell in love with and every time when he saw it. You ordered a milkshake and pancakes, while Tom got fries with a burger.  
They came back with the food and it was absolutely lovely. You shared the milkshake with Tom. He got one straw and you the other, giggling at how romantic and cheesy at actually was but you loved every minute of it. After you both finished Tom took you to your favorite snack store. You know the one where there’s only candy and snacks including a lot of stuff from other countries. You got everything you wanted and strolled back home with Tom.
“Thank you Tom, this really helped and I’m so happy you’re here. I love you.” he squeezed your hand and smiled. “I’m happy I’m here with you too. I love you too so much, that I can’t even put it in words.” You turned around and faced Tom, wrapping your arms around the tall and handsome man, resting your cheek on his chest and inhaling the smell of fresh rain. You felt calm for the first time in a long, long time. He held you tightly and kissed the top of your head. “I’ll always be here no matter what. You’ll never be alone.” He whispered.  You got out of the hug and took his hand again, walking back home.
Tom opened the door and you got inside, placing all the stuff in the kitchen. You shivered a little. “Let’s go change into something more comfy.” Tom said and placed his hand on your back, guiding you towards the bedroom. You got into some sweatpants and a sweater of Tom, who handed it to you with a smile.
You both plopped down on the couch and watched a comedy movie. Your legs over his while he softly massaged them. You got out your sketchbook and started doodling while watching the film. After a while you just wanted to cuddle so you did. Tom laid down so you could get comfy. Your back rested against his chest and he held you tightly while his head rested on the top of your head. You felt safe and comforted.
After a while you got into bed. He started reading a book of poems to you while you rested your head on his chest feeling the rumble of his soft comforting voice. When it was time to get some sleep you just stared at each other for a while. No words were needed you could see everything in each other’s eyes. you crawled towards him and just held him tightly, listening to his heartbeat, the rain that ticked loudly at the window and his soft breathing. It was all so calming. He kissed the top of your head multiple times and massaged your head. You were almost asleep, slowly drifting off, you heard Tom whisper. “I love you so much. I’ll never let you go darling.” You were too tired to respond so you just squeezed your arms which were tightly wrapped around him. you felt one long resting kiss on your head as you felt into a comforting peaceful sleep.  
He waited for you to fall into a peaceful sleep before closed his own eyes with a smile on his face knowing that you were in his arms. Maybe not okay but it’s okay to not be okay. But he will make sure that you’ll never be alone when you’re not okay. It’s a promise that he will never break.
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astaroth1357 · 3 years
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Demigod MC Series: Athena
So. I have to deal with the virgin goddesses… By mythos, there really shouldn't ever be children of Artemis, Hestia, or Athena (yes, Athena was a virgin goddess). PJ got past that by making it canon that Annabeth and her siblings were born from cracking open Athena's skull (yes, that's also more or less the canon explanation). They gloss over it real quick but I remember, Rick. I've always remembered and that mental image has haunted me for years...
I can't, in good conscience, ignore the history around Athena's worship (call it an academic restraint) but I REFUSE to do the skull thing. So, since I make the rules here, I'm going with magic adoption. They still get magic powers, they're just more human than demigod. Cool? Cool.
Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter, Athena
Lucifer
The human that popped out of the portal seemed to have enough sense not to attack everyone in the room for a change, but even Lucifer could tell that was more of a strategic choice than for lack of ability...
Their very existence was highly unusual… and quite worrisome. He wasn't even aware Athena could have "children" of her own, but apparently she had been taking in some particularly bright humans to raise and train like her own...
Unbeknownst to him, a surprising amount of human scholars, diplomats, and generals have her to thank for their trade… and that alone should speak to the level of intrigue at play here. 
Was this an accident or Athena's attempt to plant an Olympian spy in the Devildom too…? Either way, he didn't trust them from the get go…
Look, Lucifer isn’t stupid. Athena is a goddess of Wisdom and War and war happens on more than just the battlefield… 
Since they've shown up records have been going missing, official documents keep getting misplaced, and he swears that there's some kind of bug in the student council room...!
It's infuriating watching the MC suck up to Diavolo when he's almost certain that they're running their own agenda behind the scenes! And he can't prove any of it!! They cover their tracks too well!
Lucifer has one of those corkboards covered in newspapers and string in a secret wing of the Castle - 100% dedicated to just tracking the MC's activities…. The longer they're there, the more obsessed he becomes...
He swears between Simeon, Solomon, and MC he feels like a shepherd wondering why the sheep are growling… The Devildom has never been in more danger than it is right now... Send help.
Mammon
To be honest, he kind of thought that they were just going to be Satan 2.0 but that's not really true.
They're more than just a book sponge! Though they do read, like a lot. Let’s just say from one schemer to another… Game recognizes Game.
They come up with plans and ideas soooo fast, it’s insane! Honestly, there are times where he has a new money-making plot and he just brings it to the MC first to run it over. 
Nine times out of ten, not only do they sniff out any problems but they have a solution for him in a matter of minutes! His scheme game has been on point since they’ve shown up!!
They’re also even better tutoring than Satan is, so he’s even managed to get a couple A’s for the first time in his life! Lucifer actually told him he was proud (which he secretly recorded and now uses as a ringtone much to his brother’s regret...)
So yeah, he likes them... buuut that doesn’t keep him from thinking they act a little weird sometimes... 
Mammon: *points to a unused tower close to the RAD building* Over there is the Tower of Sorrow. We use it for storage.
MC: Ah. Interesting… *starts writing in a notebook, muttering* It may need a few minor tweaks but the location is defensible...
Mammon: *stops* Ya say somethin’?
MC: *looks back up* Nope! Say, you’ve been to the Castle a lot haven’t you? Do you know any good ways in?
Mammon: Uhm… Why do ya want to know that…? *starts looking around for Lucifer*
MC: In case of emergencies. I like being prepared. 🙂
Mammon: Look, I don’t know what Lucifer might’a told ya…
MC: I’ll pay you a thousand Grimm for it.
Mammon: Well shit, ya want those maps with or without color?
... Yeeeah, that’s pretty weird… But it’s probably fine. I mean, as long as they keep giving him money, who’s he to complain? 🤷‍♀️
Leviathan
Also thought that they’d be a lot more like Satan but was pleasantly surprised that they were into more than books.
What else did they like exactly? Military strategy!!
It’s been a looong time since he’s been able to talk to someone who’s actually interested in all the battles he’s fought, both in the Celestial Realm and the Devildom, and their curiosity is kind of flattering...! Not a lot of people take his strategic prowess all that seriously anymore...
Plus, they are the BEST partner to have any turn-based strategy game. Hands down. He once got stuck on a level of D-COM for weeks until the MC walked in and mopped the floor with the AI!! They have a serious head for probability and tactics.
The House once made the mistake of letting these two be on the same team during a Hell Game and they absolutely demolished the competition. Mammon didn’t even get a single shot off before half his team was lost to a rigged paint grenade… It took a whole day to clean up… 
However, Levi’s also noticed some odd things about the human… He likes that they’re interested in his past but maybe they’re a little… too interested?
Levi: -and that’s how we defeated the Four Horsemen before they escaped from Purgatory. 
MC: Wow, Levi that’s seriously impressive!! *furiously scribbling on a notebook*
Levi: Well t-thanks… 😅 But, uhm... are you writing that down…?
MC: Hm? Oh no, just doodling. *they lift up the notebook to show a bunch of cute little sketches on the page… and not the magic-based invisible ink all over them…*
Levi: Oh you draw too? Can you do fanart???
MC: Eh, sometimes. But say Levi, can you tell me about your naval ranks again? I’m still really curious… *gets the pen ready again with a smile*
Satan
Oh, it's been a long game of cat-and-mouse between these two… and unfortunately, it’s been pretty addicting too.
He honestly had every intention of tricking the human into making a huge mess do he could bother Lucifer, but at every turn they proved just a hair too clever for him...
He once gave them a cursed book to “lend” to Lucifer, but they saw through it the moment they touched it and lifted the spell before handing it over.
He rigged a podium to spray glitter during one of Lucifer's speeches but the MC disconnected the trigger mic before he even got on stage. It was pretty dang frustrating...
At one point he got so desperate that, just as a test, he tried to trap them in the House's Music Room. Fortunately for them, it only took a few minutes to work out an escape. They even passed by him in the hallway with a wink!
It's confounding! It's infuriating!! 
...and it's so damn sexy... He should be furious but he’s just in awe!!
Add on that they know their art, literature, and multiple different crafts thanks to the tutelage of their adopted mother and that’s it. He’s finished. This boy is in love.
Truthfully though, a part of him is 90% sure that they’re also gathering state secrets… Like, they’re watching Barbs and Diavolo far too close for comfort - but he just can't bring himself to care. 🤷‍♀️
The MC could walk into his room one day and say, "Hey, do you want to help overthrow the monarchy with me?" and he dreads it because deep down he knows that he wouldn’t say no…
Take some notes, kids. Some bad influences get you to drink or do drugs. Others pull you into a centuries long conspiracy to destabilize and topple rival realms from within… But he has fallen for their brain hard. Devil help them all…
Asmodeus 
They’re pretty clever, he’ll give them that, but uh… Are they a little off to anybody else?
Asmo is a charmer by birthright so he has a bit of nose for when someone’s just a liiittttle too nice… Not much of a nose mind you, because he can be thrown off by compliments himself, but enough to think that the MC might be a little too… “kind” for their own good...
First off, who wants to spend that much time with Levi?? They don’t even seem that interested in anime! They just keeping asking him for old war stories…
Then all the sucking up they do to Diavolo and Barbatos? Look, he gets it. Diavolo is a delicious piece of man-hunk and his butler could give him a lesson or two in sweet-talk (and he has), but they seem to be just a little too… nosy.
Of course, Asmo’s suspicions disappear pretty quickly after they start to spoil him with spa nights and beauty secrets they picked up from “casual research” into the subject.
And you know, get a little Demonus in Asmo and start massaging his back? Oh, sweetie he’ll sing like a bird!! … with gossip. Singing with gossip.
Asmo: So I’ve heard that Lucifer has been spending more time at RAD than usual… His whole club is talking about it, they think he’s meeting with some witch!
MC: Hm, is that so? *works on a knot near his shoulder blades* What do you think?
Asmo: Ooh~! Right there, MC! *purrs and lays his head on his arms* Well come on, this is Lucifer we’re talking about! I’m sure he’s just working.
Asmo: Hmm... though come to think of it, I think I heard him asking Barbatos for the spare keys to the Tower of Sorrow…
MC: Oh really? Huh. *works out the knot and gets up* I just remembered that I left some papers with Satan... I’ll be right back.
Asmo: You’re going already??
MC: *waves him off quickly* I’ll be right back, Asmo. *hurries out the door to do totally on-the-up-and-up things… surely*
Beelzebub 
Honestly he doesn't like this one… But not for the reasons you'd expect.
He agrees with everyone else that they seem a little shady, but Solomon and Simeon are too so it's not like that's anything new... 🤷‍♀️
No, no. He dislikes them because they're the person who FINALLY figured out how to keep him from eating all the food in the kitchen!!
Turns out that the trick was to put a teleportation charm on the fridge door that would send all the food away if it’s opened after a certain time of night… 
And where does it go? The Purgatory Hall fridge. And where does the Purgatory Hall food go…? The HoL fridge…
It doesn’t sound so bad until you remember that it means half of their fridge is now Solomon’s leftovers…. 🤢
After they put the same kind of spell on the pantry, it was all over… He couldn't get midnight snacks from the House anymore… Everything was contaminated by Solomon…
The MC is a nice enough person, he doesn’t have a lot of complaints about them, but he wants them to leave. Now. This is inexcusable… He’s so hungry… and he doesn’t want to die by “goulash” or whatever Solomon calls his latest culinary catastrophe… He’s still too young for death… 😓
Belphegor 
In a way, he absolutely could not have asked for a better person to help him get out of that attic.
… In another way, he got one of the worst possible people to try and kill... Like. They saw through his scheme sooo fast…
How was he supposed to know that the human had training in body language and sniffing out lies???
Getting the door open was a piece of cake for them. They knew enough magic to undo the seals and just rummaged around Lucifer's stuff long enough to find the key to the door. He could not have found a more competent individual for a break out, really.
It’s just… well he didn’t expect to go from locked in a room like a prisoner to tied up in enchanted rope, still like a prisoner but now mobile. 😑 
They even used his own hug ruse against him! They caught his wrists when they got close and tied him up before he could shake them off...
Admittedly, it wasn't exactly the best look for them either - what with walking Belphegor downstairs to the others like a one-man-prison-caravan but they're as silver-tongued as they are sly so they talked their way out of it beautifully… 
And like hell was he going to trust them after that!! And not even Beel liked them so something had to be up...
Well, you want a detective? Look no farther than Belphie (no seriously, it’s in the canon). He can put things together pretty fast when he puts his mind to it and watching the MC for a while gave him enough proof to work off of...
He always knew that, humans were bad news and the MC just proved it to him all over again. They are bad news, bad bad news and they’re going to-!
Overthrow… Diavolo…? Is that what he is getting from them…? Huh…
Wait a second, MC. You might just have him interested… 😏
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randomshyperson · 3 years
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Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Land of Thieves #ChapterOne
Western/ Red Dead Redemption AU / Slow Burn / childhood best friends to lovers 
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Gif is not mine.
Read on AO3 (English Version) 
Ler no AO3  / “Terra de Ladrões” (Versão Português)
Chapter warnings: explicit language, explicit violence. 
Word count for this chapter:  4002K
Summary:  When you were a child, you swore that no matter how high the reward in your head, she could always count on you. Life as an outlaw in the west is not easy, but you believe that train robberies are still easier than asking a pretty girl to dance. Land of Thieves, also know as your love story with Wanda Maximoff in the Wild West.
Pt.1 || Pt. 2 || Pt. 3 || Pt.4 || Pt.5 || Pt.6 || Pt.7 || Pt.8 || Pt.9 || Pt.10 || Pt.11
You were covered in mud and blood when you entered the saloon. Curious and judgmental eyes turned to you, but you didn't stare back. Stretching your back, you felt your whole body ache; the recent beating was sure to leave marks. Walking over to the counter, you threw three gold coins onto the wood, muttering in a mumbled tone "bath" to the saloon keeper. He nodded slightly, showing you the way to the restrooms. As you washed up, you grumbled against the recent cuts, but you were happy to know that you hadn't been shot. Your body ached, but without bullet wounds, you would be better in no time. A pretty girl who worked in the saloon smiled at you when she took your muddy clothes to wash them, and you looked away blushing helplessly. She handed you new clothes before she left. When you finished your shower, you put on the white silk shirt, and beat-up jeans that were handed to you. The boots were not new, but they were comfortable. You also put on spurs, but they didn't give you suspenders, so you left the shirt loose against your body, enjoying the lightness. Attaching your holstered belt to your waist, you checked to be sure your Schofield revolver was clean and locked before you holstered it. You walked to the top floor of the saloon, ignoring the curious glances cast at you on the way. You hoped that no one would recognize you from the reward posters, but you weren't so sure about that, since your face was quite exposed without your hat, which must now be somewhere lost in the middle of New Elizabeth, or on some thief's head. Whistling softly, you walked to the saloon balcony, watching the town below. Valentine is a ranching town, small and not very crowded. Lots of pedestrians, you observe. You light a cigarette as you watch the citizens go about their mundane lives, many opportunities passing before your eyes. You let your gaze wander to the town bank, a few meters ahead on the right of the saloon. You notice that security is low. Making mental notes about everything you could observe from there, you put out your cigarette, returning to the lower part of the saloon, toward the counter. - A whiskey and a beef stew. - You grumble, handing the bartender some coins. He nods in agreement and in a few minutes you get your meal. While you are sitting at the farthest table in the room, you listen attentively to the conversation of two men at the poker table, who have caught your attention. - My cousin saw the carriages in Saint Denis. Four horses in each, and he said that the riders were armed to the teeth." - The skinny man commented excitedly, his friend didn't look so happy. - Those damned bankers are like pests of the soil. You saw what happened to that southern town, I think it was called White Gate. - commented the man with the mustache, his expression frowning. - After the oil ran out, everybody lost their jobs. Stark closed the mine and the citizens began to starve. Almost everyone moved to the neighboring towns. Stark. The name was not strange to you, but you could not tell exactly where you had heard it before. You finished your stew, deciding that Steve would want to know about both the bank and the possible rich men who were visiting the town. Finishing your whiskey in one gulp, you stood up, leaving the saloon just as you collected your freshly washed clothes from the same woman who had brought them. It was hot and humid outside. Knight, your Hungarian half-breed horse, grunted with delight when you stroked his mane. You smiled at him before you mounted. You rode south, figuring you would have no trouble finding the new camp site, and trying to remember Bucky's instructions about where exactly they were. It took some time, but you finally found the camp. You dismounted Knight as you entered the area between the trees, walking calmly to the largest tent. Steve Rogers was like a father to you. When your birth parents died of cholera, you ran away from the orphanage the government put you in, and started living on the streets. You were only seven years old, but you were smart enough to hide in one of the garbage carts when the nuns weren't looking, and you ran away because you couldn't stand being beaten by the older children and your own teachers. You ended up somewhere in West Elizabeth, and while trying to steal some food, you were chased by two officers. But just as they were about to catch up with you, someone knocked them out. You smiled when Steve held out a big piece of bread and water to you. From that moment on, you lived with him. The Avengers gang became your family. Steve took care of you, and trained you as an outlaw. You learned everything that was essential to survive in the Wild West, from hunting to murder. And as the years passed, other people joined the gang, and you accepted them all as your family. When Steve saw you, he smiled tenderly, wiping the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief as he motioned for you to enter the tent. - So, kiddo, what did you find out in Valentine? - asked the man as you sat down in the opposite position, on a wooden chair. - They have a poorly protected bank. - You shrugged. - But you know how these small towns are, the risk is almost always not worth the gain. - That's too bad, we need money. Especially to buy medicine. You let out a low exclamation of agreement, you knew exactly how difficult the situation was. It had been a particularly difficult season for the gang. With Fury's death at the last service, and the move out of town to get away from the officers, you were still facing a wave of illness. Carol and Bruce had been feverish and bedridden for days, and Thor had been shot during an unsuccessful robbery. - I overheard an interesting conversation, though. - You say, and Steve looks at you curiously. - Some rich people are coming to Valentine in a few days. The name Stark was mentioned, have you ever heard of it? Steve's eyes widen in surprise and excitement. - Of course I have! - he exclaims. - Filthy rich folks there! Rich enough to lend us a little money without even noticing. - I think Stark is going to buy the oil mines at Heartlands. And he's staying in Valentine while he does the negotiations. - That's excellent. - Steve says, running his hand along his chin in a thoughtful expression. - If the deposit is made in Valentine, we will have the purchase money first hand. You nodded. - But even if the deposit is made here, the money is sure to be transferred to Saint Denis. - You retort, trying to think of all the details of the scam. - Which means that we have to steal the money the same day it is deposited, or we only stand a chance during the transfer. Steve stood up, walking around the tent with the same thoughtful expression on his face. - No, no. - He began to speak as if the alternatives were rapidly forming in his head. - The carriage will be extremely protected. In the gunfire, we can be very worried about not getting killed, which will give them a chance to escape to the city. And then we'll have no way to reach them there. You sighed, knowing that he was right. You frowned, trying to think of something, but Steve soon spoke again. - We need to do this while the money is in the bank. And we have to do it fast. - He says, and then walks to the edge of the hut, looking around the field. He whistles, attracting the attention of Peggy Carter, who is chopping wood, and when she raises her curious gaze to him, Steve beckons her to join him. - What is it, Rogers? - Peggy asks gently. You exchange a smile with her. - We've got a new hit. - He says, making room for Peggy to join you. - Is Bucky around? - He went out hunting a few minutes ago. The twins went with him. - Peggy says and you rest your face on your own hand, waiting for Steve to speak again. - Oh right. I'll explain the details to them later. - The blond man says, walking around the cabin to the table in the opposite corner, and he takes a pen and paper and begins to write down what you think of as a rough draft of the plan. - We will rob Valentine's bank then. - I thought that banks in small towns were not worth the risk. - Peggy commented with a slightly confused expression. - Ah, but we have a unique opportunity. - Steve remarked, bringing the doodle over to Peggy. - Howard Stark, big oil guy, is going to buy the Heartlands mines. The purchase money will be deposited in Valentine before being transferred to Saint Denis. I believe we will have about a few hours to rob the bank - Steve, are you sure this is a good idea? - Peggy assumed a worried posture. - We are short on snipers... - It's a great idea. - He interrupts, looking at Peggy seriously, but still maintaining a calm tone. - We need the money, Peggy. If this is planned correctly, we don't have to worry about the number of weapons. - I appreciate the confidence in my abilities, by the way. - You playfully push your shoulder lightly against Peggy, she smiles at you. - Of course I trust you, Y/N. - She answers, but her gaze is still worried. - We just need to be careful in this job. You spend the rest of the afternoon planning. It doesn't take long for Bucky to join you. He hands a deer carcass to Pietro, who carries it back to the supply hut. Steve repeats the plan, and you let your gaze drift quickly to Wanda, who smiles at you, and you feel something in your stomach drop. Blushing, you look away, turning your attention back to Steve. It is already night when you have finally finished working out the plan. Wanda and Pietro joined you at some point, and you had to mentally repeat to yourself to pay attention to Steve's words and not to the redheaded girl a few feet away. You didn't want your passion to cost your life or put everyone else in danger because you didn't absorb the plan correctly, but you were getting to this level of unfocused. You felt a light tug on your arm as you walked toward the fire, and found yourself smiling wryly as you faced Wanda already looking at you. - I got my first deer today. - She declared, looking up at you with bright eyes, a tone of pride and happiness in her voice. You raise your eyebrows in a pleased expression. - What? That's amazing, Wands. - You replied. - I told you that you would learn soon! I would have liked to have seen it. - We can hunt together. - She says, and you try not to show your nervousness at the thought of being alone with Wanda, but you don't disguise it very well, which makes Wanda confused, and she looks almost disappointed when she quickly adds - Pietro can come with us too. You blink a few times, believing her to be clarifying that she had no intention of spending time alone with you, and swallowing dryly, you nod in agreement. - Yes, yes. Sure, we should call him too. - You say taking a few steps back, hands in your pockets as you stare uncomfortably at the floor. Wanda bites her lower lip lightly, finding you extremely difficult to decipher. You spend a moment in silence, before she speaks again - We can go tomorrow afternoon if you have no business in town. You think about it for a moment, trying to remember if you had made any appointments, if any robbery opportunities had been signaled to you, but you can't think of anything. - No, it's fine. We can hunt tomorrow. - You say, trying not to be too embarrassed by the contented smile Wanda flashes at you. She was probably going to say it was marked, but Pietro interrupted the moment by extending a bowl of stew in front of her face. Wanda blinked a few times in confusion, but thanked her brother as soon as she grabbed the item. Pietro turned to you next, a relaxed posture as he took a sip of the beer he was holding. - What were you two talking about? - he asked, his tone curious. - It's rude to snoop, you know. - You teased, drawing a short laugh from Wanda, and Pietro rolled his eyes stubbornly, but smiled. - We're going hunting tomorrow. I'll show Y/N that I learned how to use the bow on some deer. - explained Wanda, looking at her brother. - Will you come with us? Pietro frowned, denying with his head. - Sorry, little sister. - He speaks seriously, but his eyes have a malice in them that you didn't know how to recognize. - I'd love to join you on your date, but I have an appointment. You and Wanda blush at the insinuation, but Pietro continues with a playful aura as he takes another sip of beer. Although embarrassed, you can't help but be happy to know that you would be spending some time alone with the girl. - Oh, all right. - Wanda says in what seems to be an attempt to sound disappointed, but her eyes sparkle slightly as she speaks. You don't notice, but Pietro smiles at the expression. - You're full of secrets lately. What kind of appointment? Pietro laughs, shrugging his shoulders. He walks toward you with a playful expression, and puts his arm around your shoulders, smiling at Wanda as he leans on you. - Your girlfriend taught me how to play poker and now I am famous, my presence is requested in Rhodes. I need to bet and win some money for this place. You choke slightly on the phrase and feel your face heat up, looking down at the floor. Wanda lets out a nervous laugh, and pushes her brother lightly, making him let go of you. - You mean lose money, don't you? - she teases. - Even Thor plays better than you, and he usually just flips the table. You laugh, risking a glance at Wanda, who has a reddened face and quickly exchanges a smile with you. Pietro rolls his eyes and walks past you, waving goodbye. Deciding that you should eat something, you nod to Wanda that you are going to the fire. She smiles and follows you silently
You didn't hunt very often. Although you were good at it, it was not your function in the camp. You were a gunslinger, and your jobs usually involved carriage robberies and trespassing, even the occasional robbery. You were always part of the team for the big scams. And then Wanda invited you to go deer hunting and you became an anxious mess. Stumbling out of your tent, you hurried to take a quick swim in the creek near the campground. It was important not to smell too strongly when you went out hunting, as the animals could more easily notice you. Coming out of the water with wet hair, you put on your clothes, leaving the suspenders hanging from your waist and a few buttons open on your shirt. You were feeling heated. You waited for Wanda at the campfire. She also bathed before meeting you, and she seemed slightly anxious when she found you. You smiled as you poured some coffee, and Wanda looked a little airy when she accepted the cup. You didn't understand why, but the sight of your relaxed appearance, your loose hair and your exposed collarbone was absolutely irresistible to her, making Wanda feel heated in places that were not appropriate. You joked that soon she would become the best hunter in the camp, and you were happy to make her smile. As you rode out of the camp, you smiled as you felt Wanda lightly tap her foot against yours, as you used to play with as children. Riding in silence for a few minutes, you enjoyed the gentle breeze until you came to a hunting spot. You descended from Knight slowly, stretching your body when you reached the ground. Wanda watched your shirt lift and reveal some skin, then she looked away quickly, her face red. You cast a curious look, thinking she was feeling heat. Grabbing your rifle stored on the horse, you watched Wanda take from Lily's saddle - her red sorrel - a longbow and some arrows. You walked in silence, heading for the shallow part of the creek beside you, where you could easily find deer. It was comfortable to be in Wanda's presence, even in silence. Neither of you had to say anything to know exactly what to do next, your body following her along the way as if you had done this many times before. One look and you knew when to wait, or when to be quiet. It didn't take long before you spotted the deer. There weren't many, and Wanda bent down in front of you to take aim. You watched her with admiration. She raised her bow, and you noticed the slight tremor in her hands and frowned. You came forward, also bent down, and stood beside her. - There's no need to be nervous, Wands. - You whispered softly. - It's just me. The trembling in their hands seemed to diminish, but it was still there. You moved closer, raising your hands to join Wanda's, helping her to keep a steady aim. - Take a deep breath. - You said against her ear, waiting for her to obey. - And then shoot. With her speech, Wanda let go. The arrow cut through the air with speed, hitting the animal straight in the head. A perfect shot. You smiled, and when you looked at Wanda, she was already looking at you. You were about to congratulate her on the shot, but Wanda hugged you by the neck, surprising you. You felt your face heat up and due to the shock, you didn't respond to the hug, your body seeming asleep for an instant. Wanda let you go quickly, her face flushed with apology. You were about to tell her it was okay, and maybe hug her back, then you heard an animalistic noise that attracted your full attention, a low growl that you knew all too well. Glad you had brought your rifle, you looked around, searching for the source of the noise. Wanda blinked curiously, but you didn't look at her again. Standing up, you held the rifle with both hands, your gaze roaming the surroundings. A moment later, the bushes a few feet away moved, and you watched the creature sneak through the undergrowth, only to run toward you the next second, preparing to jump. The sound of gunfire echoed for a few seconds after the shot. You let out the breath you were holding and watched the panther lying on the ground, just a few inches away from your feet. Wanda looked at you in shock, and you offered your hand to help her up. - Sorry for the scare. - You grumbled, walking towards the panther intent on retrieving the skin, which should be worth a few dozen dollars. - We always have to be careful not to become the prey during the hunt. - How did you hear it? - Wanda asked curiously. - Practice I guess. - You said, kneeling down beside the panther. - Every sound around us is important. - You explained - Pay attention now, for example. Besides my voice, what do you hear? Wanda seemed to think for a moment. - I can only hear water, I think. Maybe birds. - She confesses, you finish cutting the skin off the animal in front of you. - Oh, sorry. - You say quickly. - I forgot that I just drove all the animals away with the noise of the rifle. You laugh to yourself, and Wanda smiles at you tenderly. - Let's go after that deer. I'll teach you to hear the sounds another day. - You tell her as you stand up. Walking over to the dead deer, you observe Wanda kneeling beside the animal, drawing her own knife. - Bucky taught you how to skin? - you ask, watching the firm but still amateurish cut Wanda was giving the animal. - Yes, he told me to skin rabbits before he taught me to cut the deer during yesterday's hunt. - said the red-haired girl focused on the activity. You tried not to blush as you watched a drop of sweat trickle down your neck. - I learned to skin animals from him too. - You commented as you waited for Wanda to finish the task. - I was a little smaller, I think. - I guess it took long enough for us to learn how to hunt, didn't it? - Wanda joked, drawing a smile from you. It was true, hunting had been the last activity Steve and Bucky taught you. For some reason, teaching them to shoot was a higher priority than getting food from the wild. A moment later, Wanda finished, raising the deer leather in the air, showing off her work proudly. You laughed at her expression, signaling for her to step away from the animal. You handed her your rifle, and bent down, grabbing the carcass with both hands and throwing it over your shoulders to carry it to the horse. It was quite heavy, but you concentrated your breathing as Bucky had taught you, and managed to carry the animal to Wanda's sorrel. After placing the carcass on the back of the animal, you grunted when you saw the state of your shirt, completely covered in blood. - What's the matter? - Wanda asked curiously when she heard your sigh. - Pepper made me promise not to come covered in blood to the camp anymore. - You say, rolling up your sleeves. - She told me she would put me to sleep with the horses if I showed up like this again. Of course, she will probably just change my watch shifts, but it will still be a pain to hear the lecture. - You could have told me to carry the deer. - Wanda retorted, looking at you with a mixture of seriousness and guilt. You just smiled. - Don't be silly, I just need to clean up before I go back. - You said simply, and Wanda frowned in confusion. And then she choked in surprise, watching you pull your shirt over your head. You went around her body and towards the creek. It took Wanda a few seconds to snap out of her shock, then she turned her head toward the creek, her face flushed. You rubbed the fabric with your hands, watching the blood drip into the water. You put your shirt aside only to wet your own body, wiping any traces of blood from your skin. Completely oblivious to the shy mess Wanda had become as she watched you wash yourself. Finished cleaning yourself, you wrung out your shirt, getting as much water buildup out as possible. You put your clothes back on, feeling the damp fabric against your skin. Wanda stood in the same place you had left her, and you frowned when you saw her look quickly away from you, her face red. You suddenly felt very embarrassed, thinking that you must have crossed some boundary with her. Coughing awkwardly, you walked toward your own horse. You rode in silence back to the camp, you mentally going over the whole conversation trying to find what you had done wrong that made Wanda so quiet. You were surprised when you heard her singing softly. Smiling without looking at her, you slowed down the speed of Knight's gallop, trying to enjoy the moment to the fullest. Wanda continued to sing the whole way, and you tried to ignore the feeling of butterflies in your stomach
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meteorrogers · 3 years
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the secret charm of forbidden things | a. b.
summary: you piss off your professor 
pairing: professor!andy barber x reader
warnings: professor/student relationship, student humiliation (nothing serious), fluff, smut (+18 pls), daddy kink, spanking, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (and like the most unoriginal plot); let me know if i missed something!
word count: 3,478 (approx)
a/n: i really tried to avoid writing this shit but my brain just wouldn’t let it go, so i’m really sorry for this. also, i’m not a smut writer so this couldn’t be more poorly written. sorry for that too *nervous laughter* i hope there are some readers out there who enjoy cliché stories lol. oh and i know nothing about criminal law so i just skimmed through the Mass. laws and picked the easiest thing i could create a question of. anyway, if you do read this, i hope you’ll enjoy it and let me know what you think! every kind of feedback is appreciated!! 
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You’re browsing the internet, looking for some quality e-shop that would offer lingerie you’d like. Or more importantly, he would like. And since your focus is completely on the phone that is hidden from the professor’s eyes (or so you think), you miss the call of your name.
“Miss (Y/L/N)!” the stern and this time louder sound of a male voice brings your attention to the man that it belongs to, standing only a few feet from your seat, thanks to its place in the front row. His expression is hard, a clear sign that you’ve been caught and you shrink into your chair, your cheeks becoming warm. “If you want to pass my class, I suggest you turn off the phone and focus on the lecture.”
You do as you’re asked and put the phone away but you don’t expect him to address you again.
“So since you seem to have enough knowledge that you don’t even need to listen to me,” he pauses and comes closer to you, crossing his arms. “Tell me what the punishments for organ trafficking are.”
You hold your breath, not even realizing it as you’re trying to think of the correct answer, however, that’s a little difficult with him towering over you, and your eyes can’t help but flicker to his crotch that is aligned with your vision. When you look up again, there is an amusement painted over his face which you almost miss to notice. 
“Um, imprisonment?”
The professor keeps looking at you expectantly and when you don‘t say anything more, his chest heaves in a deep sigh, and his eyebrows rise as he looks at the floor in disappointment. “You’ll be having a hard time getting clients, Miss (Y/L/N),” he tells you and goes back to his desk to lean his backside on it.
Okay, you weren’t paying attention but you also thought that the times when professors publicly humiliated students had been left behind. So, now you are not only embarrassed but also pissed.
You just roll your eyeballs and slightly shake your head, taking a pen and doodling in the open notebook laying on your desk in order to calm yourself down and trying not to think about the judgemental stares being sent your way.
“Does anyone here want to remind Miss (Y/L/N) the consequences of organ trafficking?” he asks, before fucking Amelia raises her hand with her all too sugary may I, professor Barber? and you nearly lose it. You watch him as he sweetly smiles at her and prompts her to answer. She does, correctly so, and while she’s going into details, he lets his eyes wander and rest them on you from time to time. You never avert your eyes, glaring at him, hoping he takes notice of the annoyance written all over your face, but he just smirks when she finishes talking and he looks back at her.
“You’re a brilliant student, Amelia. I think you deserve a reward for the hard work.” When he stresses the word reward, he gives you a glance, and you can’t keep your eyes from rolling, again.
“Alright, class, that’s it for today. Don’t forget to send in the paper that’s due Sunday. Enjoy your weekend.”
You pack your things, shoving them into your bag before storming towards the exit, but you don’t make it too far when the professor’s voice stops you in your tracks.
“Miss (Y/L/N), a moment, please,” he says as he gathers his things. You sigh, closing your eyes as you mentally prepare yourself for what’s to come. Turning around, you make your way towards him. 
“I believe we need to discuss your work ethic.” when you remain silent, he continues. “Great, since you don’t have any objections, you can follow me into my office.”
You do as you’re told and while you wait for him to unlock the door in the corner of the auditorium, you catch a glimpse of Amelia giving you a smug smirk. Mr. Barber finally opens the door and extends his arm, letting you in before him. You enter and stop in the middle of the office, nervously fiddling with the hem of your pleated black skirt as you hear a soft click signaling that the door is now closed, followed by the snap of the lock.
You gulp, your heart beating faster as you continue to stand there and try not to give away your nervousness. The only sound that follows is the echo of his footsteps as he walks past you and to his desk, putting his stuff on the wooden surface. He doesn’t say anything, unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling the sleeves of his moss green dress shirt up to his elbows and the veins of his forearm are left on full display.
“Mr. Barber, I—“ you finally speak up but he cuts you off, making his way towards the comfy-looking couch sitting alongside the wall opposite of you. 
“You wanna tell me what that was about? You know I have a no-phone policy in my class, right?” he sits down and spreads his arms on the back of the sofa.
“I’m sorry, I was just—“
“You were just what? Looking for some skimpy underwear to tease me with during the lectures?” the blood rushes to your cheeks and you look to your left, not able to hold his gaze anymore. “As much as I’d enjoy that sight, I’m still a little disappointed in you. The question wasn’t that hard.” He’s closely watching your every reaction as your body squirms, your thighs discreetly rubbing against each other. “You know, Amelia truly is a great student. She’s slowly becoming better than you since you seem distracted for most of my classes. What reward do you think I should give her?”
And that is what causes you to run out of patience and your head to snap to where he is sitting. Bingo, Andy thinks.
“Are you fucking serious, Andy?” you say with a raised voice. If you blinked, you wouldn’t even catch the smirk that formed on his lips for like a millisecond.
“Hey!” he scolds “Watch your tone.“
You ignore him.
“Since when do you humiliate your students in front of the whole class, huh?” you confront him angrily “It was a dick move, Andy, you know that! And then the bullshit with Amelia? If you want her to wet your dick, just ask her, I’m sure she’ll be up for it.”
“Come here,” he says calmly which unsettles you because you expected him to be furious given the way you’d lashed out at him, but you roll your eyes anyway and turn to leave, however, the sound of your name coming from his lips stops you. “(Y/N).” you inhale deeply and turn back to him. “I said, come here.”
You come up to him, still keeping your distance so you don‘t stand between his spread-out legs. “What?” you bite.
He huffs out a laugh. “You’re walking on very thin ice, sweetheart.” He says and you feel your belly doing flips at the nickname. “How about you lose the attitude and come here like I instructed you to.” You cross your arms over your chest.
“How about you go fuck yourself.”
And that’s the last straw. Andy Barber is a very patient guy but when it comes to a bratty behavior like yours right now, he tends to lose his temper pretty quickly.
He swiftly leans forward and grabs your wrist, yanking you between his thighs. You have to catch yourself on his broad shoulders as you stumble from the firm tug, your stomach flush against his chest. His hand grabs the strap of your bag, putting it on the floor before his fingers fall to the back of your thighs, sliding up and up until they rest just below the cheeks of your ass, holding you against him.
“You wanna be a bad girl today, huh?”
You frown and click your tongue. “Jesus, Andy, I’m not in the mood for this.” You start pushing against his shoulders to put a distance between you, failing miserably.
“Sweetheart, you’re not even trying. You think I’m stupid or what?”
“I’m serious, let me go,” you say, but you don’t even sound convincing to yourself.
“You’re not in the mood, you say?” he asks and you nod your head. “Then why do I smell you all the way here, hm?” his fingers creep higher, playing with the lacy hem of your panties. He snorts. “You’re desperate to get fucked, aren’t you?”
By now, your panties are drenched. After what he did to you in the class, you tried so hard not to be turned on by him, but it’s impossible. Andy is a very attractive man, very intelligent and in combination with his sinful mouth, you just can’t bring yourself to not want to be fucked by him.
He doesn’t break eye contact when he hooks his fingers into your underwear and slides them down your legs, until he leans forward, his cheek brushing your hip so he can pull them all the way down himself. You step out of them and his back straightens up, putting the piece of ruined fabric into his pants pocket.
“Get over my knee.”
“Andy, come on. We’re in school. Can’t you just fuck me now and spank me later?”
“Oh, so suddenly you are in the mood?” he raises his brows “Get over my knee. Now. You don’t wanna piss me off more than I already am.” He says sternly.
You unhurriedly move from in between his legs but you’re too slow for his liking. Before you can react, he’s once again yanking you by your wrist, twisting your body in a way that makes you fall over his thick thighs. One hand gently settles on your throat, holding your head up, and the other starts tickling the back of your knee before slowly creeping up your thigh, tucking up your skirt, until you feel the cool air of the room brush against your wet pussy.
You clutch his pants in your hands, and when his palm leaves your skin you prepare yourself for the first blow. Instead, he gently sets it down on your butt again just to caress it, but even that unexpected touch has you jerking forward. He laughs and before you know it, the hand lifts itself up and strikes your right cheek. This time your body jerks rightfully but the fingers around your neck tighten, preventing you from moving too much.
“Not so tough now, huh?” he strokes the sore skin. “How many do you think you deserve?” you shrug as best as the restraint allows you to. “If I remember correctly” he pauses, just to brush his fingers against your pussy lips, smiling to himself when he feels the arousal leaking out of you “You weren’t paying attention in the class.” He spanks your other cheek. “You were using your phone even though it’s forbidden.” For that, the next hit lands on your right cheek again and you don’t think before you dare to open your mouth.
“Really? You are gonna lecture me about what is and isn‘t forbidden? You’re fucking your student for God’s sake.”
“Just for that, I’m adding 5 more to the ones for raising your voice at me, lying to me, and disobeying me.”
He spanks you for everything he listed, caressing your sore butt in between each hit and you are on the verge of crying, the tears in your eyes about to fall down your cheeks. When you think he’s finished, you release a relieved breath, but suddenly, he strikes you three more times, without any break and you cry out, squeezing your eyes shut, the tears finally rolling down.
“That was for the eye rolls I received throughout the day.” He says angrily before leaning down, brushing his lips against your ear as he whispers. “Now, what do you call me when we’re alone?” You just need a minute to catch your breath to reply but he’s not having it. “Answer me right now, or I’ll spank your ass raw, you won’t even be able to sit right. What do you call me?” he asks again.
“Daddy.” You whimper quietly and he smiles.
“Good girl.” He forces your body up with the hand on your throat and throws you on the couch, but before you can make yourself comfortable, he flips you on your stomach and grabs your hips, pulling you up so your ass is in the air.
His touch disappears for a moment and when you adjust your head to be able to get at least a little peek at him, your cheek pressed into the couch, you see him loosening his tie. He grabs your arms and crosses them at your wrist on the small of your back, tying them together with the piece of fabric.
He kisses each palm and then continues up your bare arm, licking, sucking, and biting, until his lips reach your shoulder covered by the short sleeve of your white t-shirt. “You okay, sweetheart?” He knows you are, but just to be sure.
“Yes, daddy.” You smile and he tugs the neckline of your shirt away for a second just to kiss your skin.
Then, he kneels on the floor behind you, coming face to face with your weeping cunt and he needs to adjust himself at the sight. He curls his fingers around your thighs and starts kissing them, getting closer to your core and his eyes close on their own accord when he inhales your smell. His lips finally make contact with your lower ones, his tongue licking a stripe from your clit to your entrance before he pulls away and hums, leaving you trembling. 
“Andy!” You whine from the loss as your frustration grows, and he bites the tender skin of your ass.
“Baby, call me Andy one more time and you won’t be coming for a very long time.”
Your breath shudders when you exhale. “I’m sorry, daddy.”
If it was any other time and any other place, he would take his time to properly punish you, but someone could knock on the door any second and he’s honestly been dying to devour you all day.
He spreads your cheeks and leans forward, finally burying his face into your cunt, his tongue finding the little bundle of nerves and you moan, your eyes rolling in your head from the feeling of his soft tongue relieving the ache combined with the feeling of his rough beard scratching your inner thighs.
Andy takes the bud between his lips, sucking harshly and you buck your hips, causing him to grunt and the vibrations go straight into your clit, more slick dripping from your hole. He doesn‘t let a single drop go to waste as he licks up to your entrance, slurping the juices along the way before he starts plunging his tongue in and out of you. You bite your lip, trying not to make too loud sounds.
“That feel good?” he pulls away to ask, replacing his tongue with his thumb as he waits for your answer, rubbing your clit in quick circles.
“So good, daddy. Let me cum, please,” you whimper and he smirks.
“You’re lucky we’re in my office right now, otherwise I’d take my sweet time to take this sweet pussy apart,” to emphasize it, he thrusts his thumb into you and pinches your sensitive clit between two fingers, another moan escaping your lips. “I wouldn’t let you cum until you were crying and screaming out apologies.”
He slides his thumb back down to your clit, quickly circling it as he dives into you again, massaging your walls with the soft muscle until the knot in your belly starts tightening and you bite on the cushion to prevent yourself from screaming as the dam finally breaks and you’re cumming, Andy drinking up everything your pussy has to offer and he needs to force himself to pull away, your taste almost too addictive.
Before you know it, the sound of his belt clanking reaches your ears and a moment later, you feel his hand on your hip while the other gets a hold of his cock, positioning the tip at your entrance before pushing himself slowly into your heat. He groans while you mewl, filling you to the hilt and giving you some time to adjust to his size.
He starts with slow thrusts once he feels you constrict around him and the hand that isn’t bruising your hip grips the knot that holds your wrists together, giving himself leverage when he begins to quicken his pace.
“Fuck, you feel so good, baby. So tight.”
And he feels amazing, too, his cock reaching all the right places, the familiar tingling reappearing again as your thighs start to quiver. He leans over you, his chest to your back as his hand on your hip slides down and starts rubbing your clit.
“You gonna cum, sweetheart?” his warm breath hits the shell of your ear. “You’re close, aren’t you? I can feel your pussy squeezing around me. God.”
“Please, daddy.” You mewl and he growls at your innocent voice, picking up his pace even more so, his thrusts becoming harder and your tied hands grasp his wrist. 
“Cum for me, baby. Cum for daddy.” He nips at your ear and with a few more thrusts, you’re cumming again, not able to hold in the moans anymore. He rides you through it, chasing his own orgasm and when you feel his hot cum filling you up, he stills, his breath brushing your cheek as he pants.
Once he comes down from his high, he kisses your jaw and stands up, pulling himself from your heat and you hiss at the feeling. He puts his cock into his boxers and zips his pants before he unties your hands, revealing the light red marks on your wrists. You stretch your hands a little before you bring them under yourself to lift yourself up, your skirt falling back down around your thighs and covering your now-glistening intimate parts.
Turning around, you stay kneeling on the couch, looking up at Andy with those big eyes that make him weak in the knees. The corner of his mouth lifts at the sight of your fucked out state, your hair is messy, there are imprints from the cushion on the cheek you were lying on, and the wet trails from your tears are almost dried.
He leans down and kisses you slowly and deeply as his fingers tangle themselves in your hair, his other hand gently cupping your cheek. Jesus, he doesn’t know how you do it but his dick is already twitching in his pants so he breaks the kiss because otherwise, he’d have to fuck you again. He pulls you up on your feet and bends down to pick up your bag, slinging it over your shoulder before his hands fall to your hips. You smile and adjust the strap.
“So, when will I see you in the new number?” he smirks.
“Well, I didn’t even get to pick any,” you reply with a smile and a raised eyebrow. “And I have Mrs. Harper next and I wouldn’t dare to use my phone during her class since her punishments are actual punishments.”
“Are you saying my punishments are ineffective?” he feigns shock.
“I’m just saying if you fucked every student for using their phone, they’d be doing it on purpose, professor.”
He laughs and pulls you closer. “That would be exhausting. But those kinds of punishments are reserved for my favorite student only.” 
“Should I be worried? You seemed pretty delighted with Amelia.” you joke, but half of you is a bit insecure because Amelia is a pretty girl with glowing skin and a brain big enough to impress him. And like the amazing person Andy is, he sees right through you and gives you an adoring smile before his lips touch your forehead, your eyes fluttering close. 
“You are my favorite student. Nobody else,” he assures you once he pulls away. 
Your smile widens and your belly twists at his sappiness, but you wrinkle your nose when you suddenly become aware of the slickness between your legs.
“I need my panties back.”
He snorts and shakes his head.
“I’m gonna keep them.” Your jaw drops. You have two more classes today, you can’t go that long with Andy’s cum leaking out of you! “Oh, you thought your punishment was over? I want you to come over to my place right after school. And don’t even think about going home to change.” His stern voice is back and he takes your chin between his fingers.
“I hope you finished your paper. We have a long weekend in front of us.”
the end.
a/n2: thank you for reading!!!!!❤️❤️my other works can be find under #writer luci !☺️
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buckybarnesdiaries · 3 years
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bucky barnes x reader. masterlist.
part 1 — part 2 (soon)
a / n. this is a series of 15 mini-drabbles to celebrate the 500 followers' milestone, based on one word for each story. this first part contains 8, and the next one contains 7. it was supposed to be posted one story per day, but by that way, it'd take me to last an eternity to post other works / requests.
words. 1.533.
warning, tags. none, just a bunch of fluffy and cute situations with bucky.
join my tag list.
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necklace;
It was the first time since you started to date that Bucky had to leave for a mission. Neither of the two of you knew when he'd be back, and that got you worried than ever. You were conscious of what he did for a living when you met him, but you couldn't help but feel scared. Next to the front door of your apartment, Bucky left his backpack on the floor, leaning to cup your cheeks on his palms and kiss your lips tortuously slow.
“I'll be okay, (Y/N)”. He murmured keeping his eyes closed.
“You better”.
Your hidden threat made him giggle. The soldier felt goosebumps bristling his skin as your fingertips toured his neck blindly, just to put in place the chain of his necklace. But soon, Bucky stopped your moves to take it off from him and place his dog tags on you.
“I'll come back for them”. He promised, fixing his pale blue orbs on yours, holding your hands to bring them to his lips and place fond kisses on every knuckle of both. “I love you, don' forget it, okay?”
“I won't... How could I, Buck?”
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eclipsed;
Bucky was sweating, still not believing he was about to get married to the love of his life. He was on the altar, waiting for you and surrounded by all of your friends in common. Steve had had to help him with a panic attack he had suffered while dressing up, thinking that maybe you could change your opinion at the last moment. He couldn't blame you. But all those doubts vanished at the second you crossed the huge, heavy doors of the church. Your beauty eclipsed him, wearing a white lace wedding dress and seeming like you floated over the floor. Just like an angel.
His heart jumped. His oceanic eyes got covered in tears. A giggle escaped his lips, stretching a hand towards you, still praying it's not a dream. And you noticed the tension and the nervousness running his veins, leaning forward to kiss his cheek with all the love you felt for your future husband.
“Can't wait to say yes”. You whispered into his ear, causing Bucky to lace his arms around you and embrace you tight and tenderly. “I love you, James, from now and forever”.
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sunset;
After his most recent nightmare and walking all grumpy from one side of another around your house, you decided to cheer him up only like you can do. With reluctance, you managed to get him out of your apartment and drag him to your car. Bucky was like a child, cross-armed, lips puckered and frowning annoyed. He tried to hide the fact that he had another nightmare to not worry you, but you weren't stupid.
Thinking that glimpsing the beach throughout the large front window would make him feel happier, your boyfriend just reclined himself on the seat, causing you to roll your eyes. That mood changed as soon as Bucky was sitting on the sand, between your legs, tho. His back was resting against your chest and his neck was wrapped by one of your arms, watching fascinated the sunset on the horizon. He wouldn't recognize it, but he felt much better hearing the waves crashing into the shore, while you stroked his scalp tenderly using the tip of your nails.
“You're welcome, grumpy mummy”.
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clingy;
You didn't want to drink, but Sam and Sarah wanted to celebrate that the family business was picking up. On another occasion, you wouldn't mind, but Bucky was there. So, when everything started to spin around, you lead your clumsy steps to the edge of the harbor, having a sit there and let the soft breeze help you.
“Stop”. You heard from behind.
“Uh?”
“You're stealing my antisocial personality”. Bucky chuckled, taking a seat by your side. “What's up? Why are you here all alone?”
“Truth or lie?” You asked tilting your head towards him, raising both eyebrows.
“Truth”. He scoffed as if it wasn't obvious.
“I'm too clingy when I'm drunk”.
“Can't see the problem there”.
You chuckled, shaking your head inevitably, causing him to pucker his lips with a funny grimace.
“What?”
“Tru—”.
“Truth”.
“I've been all night wanting to rub your beard”.
Bucky exploded in loud laughter, not believing your words until you put your hands on his jawline. “God... It's so soft”.
His laughs increased, causing you to burn in shame. “No more drinks for you, ma'am...”
But the fact was that he turned to you, so it could be easy to caress his face.
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safe;
Bucky was deadly tired on the sofa, warmly cuddled between your arms. A while ago, he stopped to pay attention to the movie, turning his back to the TV to hide his exhausted expression on your chest. You placed the cozy blanket over your bodies, making sure it covered both of you, being aware that tonight you'd sleep there. You felt sorry just at the thought of waking him up, seeing him peacefully breathing and his face more relaxed than the last few days.
Shutting off the TV and stretching an arm above your head, you turned off the small lamp on the auxiliary table close to the sofa, before getting comfier by Bucky's side. Your boyfriend purred delighted, still sleepy, as your fingers got tangled on his hair and started to scratch his scalp slowly, urging you somehow to place a leg over his waist, so he could settle between both a little more closely.
“Feel better?”
“I feel safe”. He replied in a low breath, to exhale the sweet scent concentrated on your neck.
“You're safe, James. You're at home”. Your calmed tone made him sigh, snuggling you strongly.
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stay;
You snapped awake because of some knocks on the front door. Tossing the sheets to a side of the bed, you grabbed the gun under your pillow. It was stupidity. If somebody wanted to kill you, that would be the last thing they'd do: knock the door. You walked slowly, step by step, through the main hallway aiming to the door, more than ready to shoot your assailant.
“It's... Bucky”. You heard from the other side.
Sighing in relief and closing your eyes for a split second, you left the weapon on the dinner table in the living room. Not doubting on opening the door, you couldn't help but raise an eyebrow when you noticed the reddened mark around his left eye and cheek.
“Can I, uh... stay tonight with you?” Bucky inquired, licking his upper lip ashamed, bowing his eyes down to his boots covered in dust.
“C'mon, Sergeant”. You invited him to walk in, using such a sweet tone, while holding his cold hand.
He looked like shit but felt much better when his arms got wrapped around your waist and middle-back, hiding his face into your neck. Kicking the door shut, you embraced him tighter to your body.
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notebook;
You were lying on the opposite side to Bucky on the sofa, but keeping your legs tangled. It was a rainy evening with nothing to do and you decided to start to read the book you bought last week. Your boyfriend was silently doing something in a notebook. Maybe writing memories, maybe doodling, you didn't know. But the third time you caught him staring at you, you had to ask.
“What?”
“Uh... nothing”. He whispered focused on the paper in front of his eyes.
“Whaaat?” You kicked his right leg with your bare foot causing him to chuckle.
“Nothing!” Bucky replied using the same playfully tone of voice.
Putting the book on the coffee table, you sat up to lie on top of him, cuddling between his legs and resting your head on his chest. Glancing to the sketch of yourself he was drawing, you raised your heart-eyes to his. It was such a piece of art. The drawing and Bucky. Both.
“I learned in Romania. It kept me sane sometimes”. He confessed, leaning to place a kiss on your forehead. “I want to remember you forever”.
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marshmallow;
“Truth or dare?”
Bucky narrowed his eyes, leaning on the table just like you did, challenging him. He was trying to read your mind to figure out which were your intentions.
“Dare”. He answered firmly.
“Put twenty marshmallows in your mouth”.
The soldier stared at you in silence, watching him lick his inner cheek and push it with the tip of his tongue. He nodded his head then, grabbing the plastic bag without losing eye contact, to start to place —one by one— the sweets into his mouth. In less than thirty seconds, he looked like a squirrel with his cheek swollen. Bucky squinted at you again, triumphant.
“Hold on, I need to capture this moment”. You laughed, catching your phone to take a picture.
When the flash went off, he spitted a marshmallow like a shotgun. And you couldn't help but laugh.
“C'mon, Bu—”.
You didn't finish the sentence, being hit by another marshmallow slightly wet because of his saliva. Your grimace turned into a funny disgust, grabbing it back to throw it to his face.
“You're like a five years old in a body fos— STOP!” You ended up giggling as he spitted you the third one.
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atlafan · 3 years
Text
Burning Love - Part Three
a/n: the third and final part of this little series is here! I hope you enjoy! Feedback and reblogs are helpful! Support me here if you’re able! (not proofread)
Warnings: cocky!Harry flirting, a tiny bit of angst, fluff, and smut!
Words: 8K
Pairing: Harry x OC (kindergarten teacher Danielle Robinson)
Masterpost
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Having a firefighter as a boyfriend was anything but boring. Sometimes Harry was called away in the middle of the night for backup, sometimes he had to straight up sleep at the fire house if someone was on vacation, and sometimes he was cooking up a storm so the guys coming back from a fire had plenty to eat. Danielle would sometimes help cook as well. The guys really liked her turkey chili.
Danielle’s classroom knew who her boyfriend was too, and they loved it when Harry would come by for a visit. He’d bring them little coloring books, or sometimes he’d get Doodle to come for an even better surprise visit.
When they were together three months, Harry made sure no one was in the fire house so she could come to his office, and he gave her a little strip tease. She had practically been begging him to play the part of the sexy fire fighter and he was finally doing it for her. The only condition was that he got to bend her over his desk and fuck her. She even let him hit it raw, it was the greatest mutual gift in the world. Also hearing her moan out, “You’re hitting it so good, don’t stop, Harry!” over and over was pretty nice too.
Yup, things had been going pretty well for the new couple. Even though they were still in the puppy-love phase, it wasn’t all sex all the time. Harry would sometimes come over and help her late into the night as she was crafting activities for her class the next day, or he’d go to the art supply store with her because Danielle never made a list and she would often forget at least one thing she needed for class. Harry always remembered what she’d forget. Danielle was also a big help with the fire department’s fundraising efforts. She made the best hash browns anyone had ever had at the monthly pancake breakfasts. The deputy fire chief even got them a matching set of aprons. Things were going so well that she even started to let him call her Dani.
One Sunday afternoon they were walking through the grocery store together. Harry liked pushing the cart for Danielle as she mumbled to herself about what she needed for the week. She liked that he joined her because he could pick out the snacks he wanted to leave at her place, and vice versa. They were walking down the coffee aisle, Harry liked Hazelnut and Danielle liked French Vanilla.
“Dani?”
Danielle looks over in the direction of the deep voice that said her name. Her eyes widen when she realizes it’s her ex, Oliver.
“O-Oliver?”
“Oh my god, it’s so good to see you!” He exclaims, throwing his arms around her. She doesn’t reciprocate. “It’s been what, three years?”
“Something like that.” She swallows, and hooks her arm around Harry’s waist. “This is my boyfriend, Harry.”
“Hi.” Oliver shakes Harry’s hand. “You shop here a lot?”
“Yeah…this is the grocery store closest to my apartment, why?”
“This is my first time as this specific store. My fiancé lives in the area, and we’re choosing to buy a house here so her son won’t have to switch elementary schools.”
“Her…her son?” Danielle wanted to smack him.
“Yeah, guess he’s like my son now too.”
“Olly? Did you find the decaf tea?” A woman long blond hair, and a slightly swollen belly comes rolling her cart down the aisle with a little boy sitting in it. “Oh…Danielle…hi.”
“Hi, Rory.”
“Miss Robinson!” The boy exclaims.
“Hello, Joey.” She tries to say with a smile. Danielle wasn’t sure how she could have been so stupid. Joey took the bus to and from school, and she had only ever spoken with his father. She also didn’t make a second glance at his mother’s name on his contact list since it was under Lorelei.
“Joey raves about you all the time.” Rory says, trying to cut some of the tension.
“Mumma, it’s Chief Harry!”
“Aw, nice of you to remember me, buddy.” Harry says. “Um, we’ve got frozen stuff in the cart, so we should probably get going, right, darling?” He says, looking at Danielle, and she feels thankful for him finding a way out of all this.
“He’s right, we should really get going.”
“Guess we’ll be seeing more of each other, huh, Dani?” Oliver says with a soft smile.
“So it would seem.” She looks at Joey. “See you tomorrow morning in class, Joey.”
Harry pushes the cart as they walk away. She was beyond mortified. They get in line and pay for their things. She had driven there, but she has Harry drive back to her place. She was quiet until they got inside her apartment to put the food away.
“He, uh, seemed a little delusional there, no?” Harry says.
“He’s always lived with his head in the sand.” She scoffs. “Rose colored glasses, you know?”
“Did you not know that-“
“No, I didn’t realize that Rory, the person he cheated on me with, had a son. I knew that she was a married woman. They got divorced because of Oliver.” She shakes her head. “Joey’s father is such a sweet man, I can’t believe I never put the pieces together.”
“How exactly did they meet?”
“The first school I worked at was a K-5 a few towns over. Rory was the principal’s secretary, she still is, I think. I brought Oliver with me to a holiday party, and they got to talking. She’s a couple of years older than he and I are. I don’t exactly know how things progressed from there, but apparently she’s pregnant with his kid, they’re engaged, and they’ve bought a house! Isn’t that just kick you in the crotch, spit on your neck fantastic?”
“Remind me to never watch Friends reruns with you again.” He chuckles.  “I can’t believe he had the nerve to hug you like that?”
“He hugged me like that because he’s still in love with me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Until I blocked him on literally every platform that I could, he would send me these messages about how he fucked up and that he’d do anything to win me back. He’s in a loveless relationship. He’s made his bed and now he has to lay in it.”
“Does Rory know it’s a loveless relationship?”
“I doubt it. If I had to guess they probably got engaged after they found out she was pregnant. It was probably her way of trapping him.” Danielle rolls her eyes. “You know what they say, once a cheater, always a cheater.”
“Well,” he comes around her to hold her from behind, kissing her cheek, “you don’t have to worry about that or pay it any more thoughts, alright?”
“Yeah.” She smiles and turns to kiss him. “I just hope I don’t start running into them all the time now.”
“We could always go to the market near my place, or we could do the online order thing.” He shrugs. “Whatever you wanna do. I just don’t want that idiot making my baby upset.” He pouts at her and she pouts back.
“I love that I get to be your baby.” She sighs as she nuzzles into his chest.
“Me too…I…I love you, Dani.” He kisses her forehead before she looks up at him.
“You do?”
“Mhm.” He smiles. “Guess there’s no perfect time to really say it, but that’s how I feel.”
“Oh, Harry, I love you too.” She kisses him, and blinks some tears away. “Like, a lot.”
“Let’s get these groceries put away, hm? Then I’ll fuck you on the counter. Would you like that, sweetheart?”
“I would, very much so.” She chuckles.
//
It was the last day of school, so Danielle had both of her groups in the morning. There was a small ceremony for the kindergarteners to commemorate them being able to move on to the first grade. They each got a personalized certificate with some type of achievement they earned in Miss Robinson’s class. She spent two weeks working on them. Once it was over, Danielle had to clean up her classroom for the summer.
“Happy last day of school, babe.” Harry says as he walks in, holding a small bouquet of flowers.
“I think you should ask for a separate office here with how often you come to visit.” She jokes as she takes the flowers. “Not that I’m upset, but what are these for?” She smiles.
“You made it through another year with a group of five-year-olds, thought you should have something nice for it.”
“Well, that’s very thoughtful, thank you.” She kisses his cheek. “I’m just finishing up here and then we can grab lunch.”
Harry nods as he waits for her, helping her take a few boxes out to her car. He thought she looked gorgeous today in her light blue sundress. They enjoy their lunch together before Harry has to go back to work.
“Wanna come to my place tonight?” She asks before they part ways.
“Sure.” He pecks her lips. “Want me to bring dinner?”
“No, I can cook. I’ve got stuff to make a taco salad.”
“Okay, I’ll see you later.” They kiss again and off they go.
Things had gotten quite domestic with one another, and Harry was really starting to like it. He also really liked that she was about to be off for the entire summer. Sure, Harry had bonfires, lawn mowers, grills, and other things of that nature to worry about, but his group of volunteer fire fighters would be coming on once again, so it freed up a little more time for himself. He’d be able to take a vacation with Danielle if she wanted. Or he could just take a ton of long weekends so he could spend some time with her. He wasn’t exactly sure what she did over the summer, but he figures they’ll talk about it soon.
When Harry gets to her apartment later that night, he realizes soon means tonight. Danielle was running around her apartment in a tank top and shorts boxing things up and packing.
“Hey, uh, what are you doing?” He says, startling her.
“Oh! I didn’t even hear you come in!” She gasps and clutches at her chest. “Sorry, I’m just trying to get my shit together. I always save this stuff for the last minute.”
“Are you moving?” He asks, almost frantic.
“What? No.” She chuckles. “But I do need a lot of my things with me for when I go up to Seabrook.”
“Seabrook?”
“To my parents’ summer house. I told you they had one, they’re snowbirds, remember?”
“Yeah, you mentioned that…” He swallows. “Are you going for a long weekend?”
“No, I’m going for the majority of the summer. I was actually sort of hoping you’d be able to water some of my plants, but if you can’t I can ask the neighbor again.” She goes over to him and gives him a kiss. “Come on, I set dinner up in the kitchen for us.”
They both go into the kitchen and sit down with their taco salads.
“You’re sort of blindsiding me a bit, babe. I mean, you’ve known you were going to New Hampshire all this time and didn’t think to tell me?”
“I figured I’d come back on weekends.” She shrugs. “You’re going to be working all day, so I figured you wouldn’t really mind if I wasn’t around as much.” She takes a bite of her food. “I also thought maybe you could come up and visit…you know, meet my family.”
“It’s gonna be torturing not being able to come over and see you after work.” He pouts. “But of course I’d love to meet your family.”
“I know…that’s sort of why I was keeping it to myself. I’ll miss you just the same, I hope you know that. This is just really precious family time that I wait all year for.”
“I get it.” He sighs. “What weekend would you want me to come meet them?”
“I’ll have to ask my parents what weekend would work best for them. The first couple of weeks are spent catching up with their friends, and whatnot. The house is in a fifty-five and over community.”
“And you won’t mind driving back on weekends?”
“Not at all.” She shakes her head. “All of the traffic will be going the other way, and the beaches are always so crowded on the weekends. It’ll be perfect.” She smiles at him and leans in a bit. “Plus, I’ll be coming back to you with sun kissed skin. I’ll have lots of tan lines to show you.” She winks and it makes him chuckle.
“Alright, alright. I get to use more time off in the summer, so I’ll be able to take lots of long weekends. We have more of a crew because a lot of our volunteers are teachers, so they have more time to help out.”
“That’s good! I’m so happy the school year is over with. Did you see I put the flowers you got me in a vase?” She points over to the vase in her kitchen window.
“I did.” He nods, a smile growing on his lips. “M’glad you liked them.”
“I loved them.” She kisses his cheek. “You’re so sweet to me, Harry.”
“You’ve turned me into a total mush ball.” He sighs. “But I suppose that’s not a bad thing.”
“You were a mush ball the second you walked into my classroom for the first time.” She smirks.
“And you were a flustered little thing.” He smirks as her face falls. “Ah, she can dish it out, but she can’t take it.” He kisses her temple and takes their now empty plates to the sink. “When are you heading up?”
“A couple of days.” She sighs. “I hate packing so much, it’s the worst.” She groans. “I just keep telling myself I’ll be relaxing on a screened in porch soaking in the ocean breeze with a book in my hand before I know it.” She flops down onto her sofa and Harry sits next to her, rubbing her back. “At least I’ll see my niece and nephew soon too. I love getting to spend so much time with them.”
“Tell me about them, I wanna know as much about your family as I can before I meet them.”
“Really?” She sits up to look at them.
“Mhm.” He puts a pillow on his lap. “Come lay one me. I’ll play with your hair while you talk.”
“If I didn’t love you before.” She giggles, and rests her head in his lap. He starts scratching at her scalp and she sighs. “Okay, so, my dad…”
They both fell asleep on the couch that night talking. Harry told Danielle a lot about his family as well. In the wee hours of the morning, Harry carried her to the bed, and they both snuggled up while they got a few more hours of sleep.
//
“Danielle, it’s the middle of the night! Where are you going?!” Her brother Clark asks her in a panic. “Shit, are you crying?”
“I…I just got a call.” She sniffles as she throws her hoody on. “I have to get home.”
“Why, what’s happening.”
“H-Harry’s deputy chief called me…there was a really big fire a few hours ago, and a wall collapsed on him, and now he’s in the hospital.” Tears were streaming down her cheeks. “I have to get home to him, Clark, I need to be there when he wakes up.”
“You’re in no condition to drive, especially not for two hours. I’ll go with you. Let me just go to Isabelle.”
“You don’t have to do that, I’m fine.” She wipes her eyes. “I’ll let you know when I get there. I’ll be back in a few days, I’m sure of it.”
She rushes out of the house and gets into the car. She had the radio practically silent, and she was sucking down an iced coffee. Caffeine put her anxiety into hyper drive, but she needed to stay awake somehow. Harry wasn’t even supposed to be at that fire. He got called in as backup, but he wasn’t supposed to go inside. He went in looking for the family’s new puppy.
Once she gets to the hospital, probably looking like a mad woman in her pajama pants and oversized hoody, she checks in and asks where Harry’s being kept.
“Please, I’m his girlfriend, I need to-“
“Dani!” The deputy chief, Ralph, comes rushing towards her. “He just woke up, come with me.” He yanks her by the wrist before the nurse at the desk can say anything.
“Is he okay?”
“He will be.” Ralph nods. “Here we are, go ahead in. Take your time with him.” Ralph smiles, and Danielle returns it.
“Harry?” She says just above a whisper.
“Hey, baby.” He gives her a soft smile. “What are you doing here?”
“I hopped in my car a second after Ralph called me. I was so worried.” She sits on the edge of his hospital bed.
“I’m okay, sweetheart, just a few scrapes and bruises.”
“Harry…your arm’s in a sling.”
“Just a sprained wrist, it’ll heal up real soon.”
“How can you be so calm about this?” She asks as she curls up next to him. He throws his arm around her and sighs.
“Because if I let every little accident scare me, I wouldn’t be able to do my job properly. This is what I signed up for, babe.”
“Did you at least find the puppy?”
“I did, shielded the poor thing from the wall that collapsed on me. M’gonna have to go on light duty for a while.”
“Which means what exactly?”
“Lots of administrative work…that I can do remotely. So, I was thinking…maybe I could come up to Seabrook with you for a little longer than a weekend.”
“I’d love that! We can drive back up together. Everyone’s excited to meet you.”
“I’m excited to meet them too.”
//
After Harry rested up for a few days at home, with Danielle doting on him even though he told her she didn’t need to, the two drive up north together.
“Auntie Dani’s back!” Sarah exclaims as she bursts out of the porch.
“Sarah!” Isabelle yells after her. “We don’t run out of the house, no matter how excited we are to see Auntie.” She picks her daughter up. “Sorry, Dani.” Isabelle chuckles.
“No worries.” Danielle laughs. “This is my boyfriend, Harry. Harry, this is my sister-in-law Isabelle.”
“Hi.” Harry says, and Isabelle gasps when she sees his arm in a sling. “Just a sprained wrist, m’fine.” “It’s nice to meet you. This must be Sarah, yeah?”
“Hello.” The little girl smiles.
“Come on, everyone’s inside getting ready to head down to the beach.” Isabelle says.
Harry and Danielle follow inside. She takes him into the kitchen where her parents, Robert and Donna were finishing up their coffee.
“Dani!” Donna smiles. “How was the ride back up?”
“Fine, not a lot of traffic once we were out of the city.” She smiles. “This is Harry.”
“The hero that saved the puppy!” Robert says.
“I’m no hero, just did my job. It’s nice to meet you both. Thank you for inviting me to your home.” He shakes both of their hands.
“Are you kidding? We were over the moon when Dani said she’d be bringing a boyfriend with her.” Donna says. “Honey, why don’t you help Harry get settled and then meet us down at the beach?”
“Okay.” Danielle nods.
The two bring their things inside while everyone else makes their way to the beach. Danielle helps Harry put his clothes away in the dresser.
“So…are we alone right now?” Harry asks casually after putting his things away in the bathroom.
“Um, yeah. Everyone went down to set up at the beach, why?”
“Well…” He sits down on the bed and tugs her to sit on his lap, straddling her. “I haven’t been able to do much the last few days, and I’d like to make up for it.”
“Harry.” Her face flushes. “I can’t just fuck you here.”
“In the privacy of a bedroom? Here I was thinking this would be the perfect place.” He rolls his eyes.
“I just…” She bites her bottom lip. Before she can say anything when she opens her mouth again, he’s kissing her. “Fuck, okay, but we have to be quick. And no leaving marks, I don’t need to feel like a teenager at the age of twenty-seven.”
“How about no marks in any visible places?”
“Harry, I’m gonna be wearing a two piece, a lot is going to be visible.”
“Your ass?”
She whimpers softly and kisses him again. They both fall back on the bed, careful not to hurt his wrist. Danielle ended up riding his dick since he couldn’t really prop himself up with hands at the moment, but neither of them minded. It was a much-needed release for the both of them. Once they’re both cleaned up, they change into their bathing suits and go down to the beach to join her family.
“Auntie Dani, do you wanna dig a moat with me?” Ryan asks her the second she sets her things down.
“Sure! Just let me get some sunscreen on, okay?”
“You’re already looking a little red.” Clark remarks, and she glares at him. “Nice to meet you, Harry.”
“Same to you.” Harry says as he sits down in his beach chair.
Danielle peels her coverup off, and lathers up in sunscreen before grabbing a sand toy to help Ryan dig a moat. Isabelle was down by the water with Sarah.
“Harry, do you like seafood?” Donna asks him.
“I do.” He nods.
“Wonderful, I thought it would be nice to go out to eat since you’re here with us now. Celebrate having a full house and whatnot.”
“Oh, well…that sounds nice, thanks.” Harry smiles at her.
“I hope you won’t be too miserable working from inside the house…there’s no central air or anything.” Robert says.
“Oh, it’s not a problem. Heat doesn’t exactly bother me.” He smirks, and Danielle flicks some sand at him. “Oi, what was that for?!”
“No fire fighter jokes or puns.” She points a finger at him warningly. “We’re on vacation.”
“Come on, that was a good one, admit it.”
“I will do no such thing.” She looks at her parents who were chuckling at the exchange. “Don’t encourage him, it’ll only make it worse.”
“Anyways,” he side eyes her and then looks back at her parents, “I’ll probably just set up on the porch when I need to hop onto email. My deputy chief is taking on a bit more for me for the next couple of weeks.”
Harry never really saw himself being a dad someday, but as the day went on, and he watched Danielle interact with Sarah and Ryan, he suddenly understood why women would get baby fever seeing a man hold a baby. He may have only been with Danielle for five months, but fuck…he wanted to be the father of her kids. Yes, he got to spend an entire week with her and her classroom, but it’s not like he got to witness her loving on any of the kids. The way she cradled four-year-old Sarah to her chest as she napped, or splashed around in the water with Ryan, well, if he had ovaries they’d be bursting.
Seeing her help them at dinner was just as cute too. Sarah insisted that her booster chair be places next to Danielle, and Danielle ended up helping cut up Sarah’s chicken fingers. Then Harry got to witness Danielle tucking Sarah and Ryan in for the night to give Clark and Isabelle a break.
The two decide to turn in a bit early since it had been a long day. Danielle was sitting up in bed reading her romance novel. Harry was reading the same one. They had formed a little book club with another once they found out they liked the same genre of fiction.
“Dani?” He says to her.
“Hm?” She says without looking at him.
“Do you think you wanna have kids of your own one day? Or are your kindergartners enough kids for you?”
She immediately closes her book and looks at him. She was a little shocked.
“I…I always thought if I met the right person then I’d want to have kids. Like, turning that love into something physical, you know? What’s got you asking me about kids all of a sudden?”
“In all honesty…watching you with Ryan and Sarah today sort of sparked my interest. You’re so good with them in so many different ways. I…I mean I never really thought twice about having kids, but if you and I decide this is a long term thing…I’d love to be the person you have kids with.”
“Thought you didn’t like playing the what if game.” She leans in and pecks his lips.
“I don’t.”
“Okay, so, it’s not an if with us, Harry, it’s a when.”
He smiles and kisses her tenderly.
“You’re the love of my life, you know that?” He says against her lips before kissing her again.
//
The school year was just about to start again. Classes would begin just after Labor Day. How were Harry and Danielle spending their long weekend? Well, she was currently bouncing up and down on his dick reverse-cowgirl on her couch while he sucked a nasty bruise into her neck, rubbing her clit with one hand, and kneading one of her breasts with the other. She felt like she was drooling from how good everything felt. The two of them had both tanned nicely over the summer, and now they Danielle was fully back in her apartment, Harry was taking full advantage.
“Fuck, fuck!” She pants. Harry was thrusting up into her, pounding against her g-spot.
It was how she liked it, she didn’t care if she was sore later, and he was happy to give it to her like this. She turns her head slightly and she licks into his mouth to suck on his tongue. He replaces his tongue in her mouth with two of his fingers, which she was happy to suck on while his fingers continued to work her clit. They had been together for a while now, and sometimes when you were a little older, time didn’t make much of a difference when you were trying to check off certain boxes with the person you loved most. So, Harry just blurts out what he’s thinking.
“I think we should move in together.” He grunts, and she gasps around his fingers.
“Wh-what?” She says, whining because she’s so very close. This wasn’t the type of talk she enjoyed during sex. “Harry, please, I’m almost there, can we talk about this after?” She tugs at his hair, making him groan.
He grips her hips, helping her rock faster on him, and she goes to rub her own clit. He was fucking so hard and deep that she thought her spine was going to crack in half, but she didn’t fucking care. She wanted it. He hits it just right again, and her eyes roll into the back of her head as her back arches, her body molding into his as she rides it out. His come shoots up inside her a moment after, and he presses his lips to her temple. She tries to move off him, but he wraps his arms around her tummy to keep here there.
“Can we talk now?” He breathes, his breath hot on the shell of her ear and she whimpers. “I really think we should live together.”
“And whose place do you want to live at, hm? We’re both pack rats, Har. We both need home offices, we both-“
“Just answer the question: do you want to live together?”
“Yes.” She looks over her shoulder at him. “I do.”
“Okay, then.” He smiles and gently lifts her off of him. “Right when we started dating, I got pre-approved for a home loan.” He wraps her up in the blanket she has on the couch and carries her into the bedroom so they can both lay down before cleaning themselves up. “I put the house hunting on hold, obviously…I’d need to get pre-approved again since the three-month window they gave me lapsed, but…I can afford a pretty decent house.” He smiles fondly at Danielle. She had that after sex glow to her, and it always made him melt.
“You…you can afford a house?”
“I can.” He nods. “Been saving up for a while. I was sort of hoping…well…we could look at houses together. I could buy it, and then we could split the mortgage payments, or I could just pay the mortgage and you could take care of the utilities and other bills. Whatever makes more sense.” He shrugs. She blinks a few times and then licks her lips.
“I just…wow, I can’t believe you wanna do something so huge with me. Buying a house with someone is a pretty big deal.”
“I feel like it makes more sense to buy the house first, and then save back up for a wedding later, but that’s just me.” He gives her a smug look and her eyes widen. “I think that’s why the divorce rate is too high, not enough people live together before they get married.” A grin starts to form on her lips. “Don’t look at me like that, we’ve talked about long-term stuff before.”
“We’ve talked about hypothetical babies, not buying a house. Do you already have a realtor?”
“No, and we don’t really need one. We can just look up the houses we wanna see and contact the realtor that’s selling the home. A friend of mine did that and they said it was a way better experience.”
“I can’t believe this.” She shakes her and then giggles, throwing her arms around his neck. “You wanna be us a house! I wish I could help with the down payment, but my student loans have prevented me from putting a lot into my savings…”
“It’s no problem. You’re able to afford this place on your own, so I figured you’d be able to help with bills and stuff.”
“I definitely will be able to.” She kisses his cheek. “Let’s go take a shower and then we can start looking on realtor.”
“Eager.” He smirks as she tugs him up from the bed.
“Now’s the time to buy! All of the snowbirds who are looking to make the big plunge to warm weather full time will be looking to get rid of their houses, and with the school year starting we don’t really have to worry about competing with families. It’s perfect, Harry!”
It was, it really was.
//
By the beginning of October, the two were moved into a stunning home with four bedrooms, and four baths. They got just about everything on their wish list, and anything they didn’t, Harry said he could make happen. Danielle was able to pass out candy for Halloween to the kids in the neighborhood, which delighted her to no end because a few of her new and previous students stopped by. And when it came time for Thanksgiving, even though they weren’t full unpacked, Danielle was able to host a fabulous dinner for her family.
It wasn’t always perfect, they disagreed on paint colors, furniture, curtains, and rugs. They usually found some way to compromise, though. Sometimes Danielle had trouble checking her attitude at the door. There was one evening she got home a little later than usual, so Harry got dinner started. A nice gesture on his part, which she thanked him for. However, when it came time to clean up, she wouldn’t stop huffing while she loaded the dishwasher.
“Alright, what’s wrong?” He finally asks. “Why are you reorganizing everything?”
“Because you never put anything in here right.” She snaps. “Bowls and cups go on the top rack. Look at this! You put one of the little plates up here, how the fuck is that supposed to get cleaned properly?” She says as she moves the small plate to the bottom rack. “You also don’t load the silverware correctly. Did you want me to stab myself?! I’m usually the one that has to unload it.” She huffs again after throwing a pod in and turning the dishwasher on. She crosses her arms and looks at him. “I’m your girlfriend, not your mother.”
“I never said you were.” He crosses his arms as well, astonished at her tone.
“Yeah? So, did you think that your dirty socks and underwear just magically picked themselves up and put themselves into your hamper? Did you think that the bed magically gets made? Did you think that the broom and dustpan do a little fucking dance and that’s how the shmutz on the floor gets cleaned up?!”
“You’re making it seem like I don’t do anything to help out around here. I’m the one that rakes the leaves and mows the lawn, I’m the one that has to stop what I’m doing to come kill a bug every time you yelp, I’m the one that takes care of all the trash in the house-“
“Only when I say something about it overflowing. I have to tell you to do everything!”
“Look, I’m sorry I don’t load the dishwasher in the way that you’d prefer, but the dishes get clean, so-“
“No, they don’t. I either have to run it again, or I wash the stuff by hand. We’re gonna have kids someday, Harry, I don’t want them picking up on your bad habits.”
“My bad habits?!” Okay, now he was getting angry. “I have to ask you to clean your hair out of the shower drain. In fact, your hair is fucking everywhere! You never wipe off the mirror after you pop a pimple, which you know you shouldn’t be doing anyway.” He rolls his eyes. Her face falls into a deep frown. “Not so much fun when someone’s pointing out your flaws, is it?”
“Fuck off.” She turns on her heel and makes her way out of the kitchen.
“Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be. You’re going to start an argument with me, but you’re not going to finish it?” He says as he follows her out to the staircase.
“You asked me what was wrong, and I told you.” She states.
“Yeah, but you didn’t have to be such a bitch about it.” Her eyes widen with anger at that, and her nails press into her palms. She starts stomping her way upstairs. “Dani.” He sighs. “Shit, I didn’t mean to say that.” He follows her up the stairs.
“But you did.” She goes into the bedroom and almost shuts the door in his face, but he catches it, making his way in. “You men are all the same, you know that? Any time a woman calls you out on some crap, she’s a bitch.”
“You got upset over something as insignificant as loading a dishwasher. You know we’re lucky to even have one? There are people who don’t have the luxury.”
“Yeah, I know! And I’d probably be the one to always be washing the dishes.”
“If it bothered you that much, then why didn’t you say something to me before?”
“Because I didn’t want to come off as naggy! I don’t want to be one of those women that’s always telling their partner what to do and how to do it, but holy fuck, who actually raised you?! I mean, some of the things you do, I just don’t understand.” She shakes her head.
“We were obviously raised differently.” He sighs. “You know if you just told me-“
“But I don’t want to have to tell you! I don’t want to have to ask because I shouldn’t have to.”
“I’m not a mind reader, Dani!”
“I’m not asking you to be! But when the sink is full of dishes, do you think you could take care of it without me having to mention it? Do you think that when the trash is full you could just bag it up and take it and put a new bag in? I can’t tell you how many times I’ve accidentally thrown something out without a bag being in the barrel. It drives me bananas!”
“Okay, I’ll…I’ll try to be better about those things. I don’t want you to feel like you’re having to pick up after me.” He runs a hand through his hair.
“And…I’ll try to not just explode on you when something’s been bothering me.” She sits on the bed and lays back. “Ugh, I just had a long day. Kids are starting to get colds, and the meeting I had after school just wouldn’t end, I’m supposed to get my period in a couple of days so I feel bloated and gross.” Harry sits down next to her and rubs her thigh. He looks down at her with a soft smile. “Listen to me.” She sighs. “Here I am complaining about stupid things when you literally put your life at risk every time you go to work.”
“Don’t compare us, babe. You’re allowed to feel annoyed and stressed.”
“How do you always stay so calm?” She tugs him down to lay with her.
“I don’t know. It’s hard to stay upset when I have such a cute girlfriend.” He kisses her cheek and she giggles.
“I’m sorry I got so mad.”
“It’s okay, baby.” He kisses her cheek again. “We’re bound to have an argument once in a while. The most important thing is that we always make up afterwards.”  He starts kissing on her neck and she bites her bottom lip.
“Harry, I just told you that I feel bloated and gross, and-“
“So, let me make you feel not gross.” He says as he moves on top of her. “Let me love on you, darling, it’ll help you destress.” He moves her up the bed until he’s situated between her legs. He undoes her pants and drags them down her legs. “Are you wearing boxer-briefs?” He questions.
“Y-yeah? I started buying them a little while ago. They’re more comfortable, and they breathe better. Plus, no panty lines.”
“How did I not notice this?” He blinks.
“Because I usually change when I get home into something a little sexier.” She chuckles.
“Actually…” He tugs on the band and lets it snap back against her skin. “You look pretty sexy in these.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He tugs them off of her and kisses on her tummy. He parts he legs and licks around her folds. She sighs and lets her body rest into the mattress.
“I really feel like I don’t deserve this since I was so nasty to you.” She says as she cards her finger through his hair.
“You can make it up to me by letting me fuck your mouth afterwards. Seems like you could use a break from running it, hm?” He sucks on her clit, making her groan, and she nods.
“Yeah, seems fair to me.” She gasps as he licks into her warm center, and uses his thumb on her clit. “Would you make me come a few times, though, at least?”
Her gives her a devilish smirk, which she takes as a yes while he continues to work his tongue in and out of her. He gave her four orgasms before crawling up her body and stuffing his throbbing down her throat. Feeling her nails dig into his hips as he thrusted in and out of her was everything he needed. They didn’t do stuff like this often. He didn’t want to be one of those couples where certain types of sex or positions were used as punishments. But he knew Danielle genuinely enjoyed feeling a little bit of pain, not that they’d ever talked about it. He didn’t want to embarrass her by bringing up one of her very obvious kinks. Whenever he did fuck her throat, though, she always moaned around him, and she’d end up drenched between her legs all over again, so he knew she enjoyed it. He also made sure to love on her right afterwards, praising her, telling her how good she did for him, and he’d get a glass of water for her to sip on while he cleaned her up. They had good, healthy relationship in many aspects. He loved her, he really fucking loved her, and he never wanted to be without her.
“Dani, fuck, I love you, I love you so much, shit!” He cries out as he comes down her throat. He pulls away from her carefully and she smiles up at him after swallowing. He wipes a few stray tears away from her cheek.
“I love you too.” She says, voice hoarse, but still there.
“Do you feel like taking a bath tonight? I could rub your shoulders for you.”
“I’d like that, yeah, thanks.”
//
A couple of months later, and it was fire safety week once again. They made it through their first holiday season together, and his thirty-third birthday. Now they had been together an entire year, owned a home together, and were looking into potentially getting a dog. Harry had told her all about the senior dogs at the shelter, and Danielle sort of liked the idea of not having to train a puppy, even if they were undeniably cute.
All of the kids in both of Danielle’s groups knew that Chief Styles was Miss Robinson’s very special friend because she had a picture of the two of them on her desk, and one of him as her desktop wallpaper. It was no surprise that some of the kids teased them a bit, and asked some personal questions, but other than that the week was going well as it usually did. When Friday rolled around, it was time for the kids to put on their performance for the fire department. It was an assembly all of the grades came to, along with the other teachers. Once the four songs, and a skit, are over, Harry goes up to give his thanks just as he did last year.
“Thank you all so much for another fantastic week. Fire safety is extremely important to learn at a young age. I know we had a lot of fun together, but remember, when you’re missing Chief Styles, don’t call 911 to talk to him. Have your parent or guardian come down to the fire house, and we can say hello there, alright?” That was usually where the assembly would end, but today things were going to go a little differently. “If I could have all of the kids back up on stage for a moment? Parents, I promise this won’t take more than a couple of minutes.”
Danielle was visibly confused because she hadn’t planned anything else with the students, and Harry hadn’t mentioned adding anything special today. So, she sat in her seat in the front row and watched. She leaned over next to one of her colleagues.
“Do you know what’s going on?” She asks.
“Just watch, Dani.” Her colleague says, and Danielle sits up straight in her seat again.
All of the kids were holding a piece of paper in their hands. It was facing blank towards the audience. Some of them were giggling as Harry and the other fire fighters placed them in certain spots. Ralph gives Harry a thumbs up, and he starts speaking into the microphone again.
“Not a lot of people know this, or maybe they do, I don’t really know, but last year was my first year getting to host fire safety week with the lovely Miss Robinson, and over this last year she’s managed to steal my heart, giving me the great privilege of calling her my girlfriend.” The kids behind him snicker and giggle. “You said you’d all be cool, come on.” He looks over at Danielle, who still really had no idea what the fuck was going on. “Miss Robinson, could you come here for a moment?”
She nods, and gets up slowly, walking over to him. He takes one of his hands in hers.
“What are you doing?” She whispers.
“You’ll see.” He winks. “Miss Robinson has taught her kids how to spell lots of interesting words already this year. She teaches them how to sound things out, and all that good stuff. I had a chance to teach them something this week and they’ve been dying to show you.” He tugs her to the side so the whole audience will be able to see. “Alright, kids, flip your papers over to show Miss Robinson.”
She gasps when she sees it, cupping a hand over her mouth as her eyes start to well up. All of the papers spelled out: M I S S – R O B I N S O N – W I L L – Y O U – M A R R Y – M E ? She looks at Harry, who was now down on one knee, holding up a gorgeous ring in a little black, velvet box.
“It says, Miss Robinson, will you marry me?” He says to her with a beaming smile.
“I can see that.” She says, wiping some tears from her cheeks.
“Will you?”
“Yes! Oh my god, yes.” Everyone in the room cheers as Harry slips the ring on her finger. He stands up, and kisses her, not to vulgarly because there were kids around, but enough to show how happy he was that she said yes. “When did you have the time to plan all of this with them?”
“Got their parents’ emails from one of the other teachers.” He smirks. “Are you surprised?”
“I’m shocked!” She turns to her students. “You all kept such a big secret from me!” They crowd around her to hug her as she opens her arms for them.
A ton of the teachers, parents, and fire fighters all come up to the congratulate the pair. Once all of the fuss is over, and the cafeteria is cleared, Harry and Danielle go back to her classroom so she can pack up her things for the day.
“Do you like the ring?” He asks nervously.
“Are you kidding, I love it! It’s so beautiful, baby.” She pecks his lips. “I can’t wait to call my parents, I’m buzzing! Think of how cute Sarah’s going to be as a flower girl. Oh, and they’ll start calling you Uncle Harry, how sweet!”
“Gonna have to let Ryan be a groomsman, or I think he’ll try to kill me.” Harry chuckles. “He’s quite protective over his Auntie Dani.”
“And don’t you forget it.” She presses her finger to his chest. He leans in and kisses her tenderly. Normally, Danielle didn’t like getting so lovey dovey in her classroom, but she figured she had a good excuse in case anyone walked in. “I still can’t believe you planned all of that and pulled it off. Those kids usually can’t keep a secret.”
“I promised them all a ride in one of the fire trucks if they kept their mouths shut.”
“Damn, that was really smart.” She chuckles.
“I’d say so.” He smirks. “Do you feel like going out to eat tonight to celebrate? Ralph and his husband were hoping to treat us.”
“Sure.” She nods. “I’ll just need to cancel my yoga classes really quick.”
“You can still teach your classes if you want. I can just tell him we won’t be ready until later.”
“No, see, I wanna go home, and stay there for a bit.” She tugs on the suspenders that were keeping his fire pants up. “I’d like to celebrate with you privately first, Chief Styles.” She takes his hat off and puts it on her own head before catching his bottom lip between her teeth and sucking on it. He groans into the kiss, and she lets his lip snap back. He had inadvertently put her into one of her ‘Chief Styles/Miss Robinson’ moods, which he wasn’t upset about in the least. “How’s that sound?”
“Well, Miss Robinson, I’d say it sounds like you’re trying to seduce me.” He smirks, and she rolls her eyes. It was her least favorite joke.
“I can’t wait to be Danielle Robinson Styles so that you can’t make that stupid fucking joke anymore. I’m not a forty-year-old woman seducing a recent college grad!” His face softens immensely. “What?”
“Nothing.” He puts his hands on her hips and gives her a squeeze. “I just…I didn’t think you’d want to change your name, is all.”
“Harry, I’d be proud to be called Mrs. Styles. Think of how cute it’ll be after we get married and I have a new class, and then when you come in for fire safety week, I’ll be able to say my husband, Chief Styles.” She pouts at him.
“Alright, it’s time we get you home before my stiffy pops through my pants.”
She giggles as she grabs her bag, and they both rush out of her classroom, and out to the car. They held hands the while way home, not wanting to be apart from one another’s touch for even a second.
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Freckles
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Request: Hii!! It’s me again :) Can i request a Fred x reader were the reader is staying at the burrow and she loves drawing people, so one day she decides to draw Fred without him knowing and it sort of ends with Fred confessing? Thank youuu
A/N: Not to be dramatic, so this is the cutest fucking thing ever, thank you so much for requesting @florencxs​ I hope you enjoy!
Prompt: You absolutely love drawing people, especially a particular Fred Weasley, which becomes obvious when you stay at the burrow for the summer, and he catches you drawing him.
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You were sitting on the couch in the main room of the Burrow, sitting in front of the fire, and doodling in your sketchbook as you waited for inspiration to strike you with an actual subject to draw. You were the only one in the main room, the rest of the Burrow residence either asleep, or in the kitchen finding something to eat, Fred included.
You were invited to the Burrow by Fred and George. Earlier in the year, you were talking about not being excited to go home, because your parents were never really home and you would most likely spend the Holidays alone. So as soon as they could, Fred and George sent a letter home asking if you could stay during the holiday, and of course Molly said yes.
You were disrupted from your drawing when Fred walked into the room, looking at you before trying to peer over the edge of your notebook.
“What cha doing?” Fred asked, pouting when you shut the book which made you laugh.
“Just doodling, nothing interesting” You said, brushing it off. 
“Well that's a lie, you’re always interesting” Fred said sitting in the spot across from you while a blush dusted your face.
You weren't going to lie, you had a crush on the older Weasley twin, ever since second year when you accidentally tackled him as you were running from Filtch after you dyed Mrs. Norris Purple. It was harmless, easily reversible with a spell and pet friendly, but that didn’t help to water down his rage at all. Still, it was worth it because it was how you were introduced to the Weasleys in the first place. Now in your sixth year, you and the twins were nearly inseparable, though your crush on Fred remained. 
You opened your mouth to answer Fred’s compliment, but were interrupted as Molly entered the room, followed by everyone else.
“We’re off to Diagon Ally to do some last minute Holiday shopping, would you two like to come?” Molly asked you and Fred
“I’m alright, thank you!” You said smiling at Molly
“I think I’ll stay back as well” Fred said
“Alright, well we’ll be back in a few hours, you know where everything is if you need it, have fun” Molly said, and with that, her and everyone else left though the fireplace, leaving you and Fred alone.
“Is it cool if I hang out in here with you? I need to work on an assignment. Snape, assigning reading over a holiday. It should be a crime” Fred said, making you laugh and nod. You had been assigned to read the same book, something about different herbs and their properties, but you had finished it earlier in the week.
“Sure, I don’t mind” You said, watching as Fred got situated on the other side of the couch before opening his book. You watched him for a second, before opening your sketchbook and opening to a new page, inspiration suddenly striking you.
About half an hour had gone by and you were currently working on getting the freckles on your drawing just right, your eyes darting from Fred, to your page, and back again, but you still couldn’t get those damn freckles right.
You placed a few more dots, looking up to make sure you placed them correctly before making eye contact with the man you were currently drawing, causing you to jump a bit in surprise.
“Its hard to focus on reading when you keep checking me out” Fred joked, causing your face to heat up but you played it off by rolling your eyes.
“Don’t flatter yourself Weasley, I was looking at..... The wall” You said like a question, just saying the first thing that you saw.
“....The wall” Fred said, more like a statement.
“Yep” You said, not giving into his look of disbelief.
“You mean to tell me... you’ve spent the last half hour drawing that wall” He said pointing behind him. “The only wall in the whole house with absolutely nothing on it by the way.”
“Yeah, Its very complex” You said, continuing worth your lie, trying your best to look him in the eye.
“Huh, well can I see your complex recreation?” He asked, causing your face to heat up even more.
Shit
“No, its not done yet, and I haven't gotten the blankness quite right and- Hey!” You stammered, suddenly stopping when Fred snatched the book out of your hands and turning to your most recent drawing, which of course, was of him.
You didn’t even try to grab the book back out of his hands. It was too late. He had seen it. He was currently still seeing it. You were screwed. This was it. This was the end of days, the day he found out that you liked him and-
“You drew this?” Fred suddenly asked, snapping you out of your trance. The softness of his tone surprising you.
“Well, yeah” You said, not quite sure how you were supposed to respond.
Fred held the sketchbook, eyes looking over every fine detail as a smile crossed his face.
“Do you like it?” You asked after a moment of silence, not sure how to feel about his reaction.
Fred's eyes finally met yours and suddenly you realized how close you were together, Fred having moved closer when he stole your book.
“Yeah, I do” He said, looking back at the page “The way you’re able to pay attention to every detail, how you are able to see the pieces of a persons personality poking through, how you make every line seem so delicate but so intent. Its amazing” He finished, looking back at you.
There was a beat of silence as you both looked into each others eyes, before suddenly yours darted down to his lips and back. His eyes did the same, but his gaze lingered for longer, it was more intentional.
“Y/n, can I-” Fred asked, but you didn’t let him finish, you knew what he was going to ask. So before he could complete his question, you closed the space between you two and placed your lips on his.
Fred took no time to respond to the kiss, moving his hand to the back of your neck to bring you even closer together. Meanwhile your hands moved up to cup his face, reveling in the feeling of his lips finally being on yours.
After a moment, you pulled away, needing to get some air, not being able to hide the giant smile on your face, which Fred mirrored.
“We’ll about time” Fred said, making you laugh before swatting his shoulder.
“You weren’t giving me many hints ya know” You defended.
“We’ll I didn’t know if you liked me or not! But now thanks to your amazing drawing skills I do” He said, making you smile.
“Well I’m glad you like it, even though its actually of George” You joked, causing Fred to make a horrified face
“It is not!” Fred said as you laughed hysterically.
“No Its you I’m kidding, George had much better hair” You said, continuing the joke before being tackled onto the couch, Fred poking your sides and making you laugh.
“Take it back!” Fred said, not letting up on the tickling attack as you tried to squirm away.
“Okay! Ok, your hair is better” You said, Fred finally stopping and looking at you, a smile on his face.
“That’s what I thought” Fred said, causing you to roll your eyes.
“You’re so full of it” You laughed
“Nah, you love me” Fred defended, a smile on his face.
“Its truly a curse” You replied, making Fred laugh before he ducked his head to re connect his lips to yours, the notebook now long forgotten on the floor.
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A/N: I hope you liked it! I never know how to end these so sorry if the ending sucks lol. Feel free to leave any requests you may have!
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Text
Paintbrush (Spencer Reid x Artist!Reader)
Summary: You’re an artist in DC, and a serial killer has started using your artwork as inspiration for his murders.
Warnings: Mentions murder (duh) but doesn’t go into detail
Notes: This is way longer than I planned lol. I based the chaotic-artist vibe that the reader has going on the tiktoker @/artistkatiesmall so y’all can watch her tik toks if you like chaotic energy and paint as much as i do. Oh also I tried to keep this gender-neutral but if there are any pronouns in here that shouldn’t be let me know and I’ll fix it!! I use she/her so sometimes it just comes naturally and i don’t notice. 
Word Count: 2.3k
Masterlist
You were in your studio, listening to music as loud as physically possible. Your art studio is like a safe haven; the only place you feel completely yourself. Right now you’re working on your latest piece. Your art style is very “splattered paint that ends up looking like something”, which your mother had told you on multiple occasions. She had meant it as an insult, but you ended up taking the term and making it your own. She’s not wrong; you typically start your pieces by throwing some paint on a canvas and letting it take you somewhere. So here you are, slapping paint on a canvas and screaming the lyrics to your favorite song.
As the painting began to take form - you hadn’t decided what it would be yet, but you’re excited with what you have - you heard some pounding that didn’t match the beat of the song. Grabbing your phone, you turned down the music, and the pounding could be heard much more clearly now. “Y/N Y/L/N! FBI!” You quickly paused the music and rushed to the door. As you opened the door, your paintbrush (still covered in paint...oops) was tucked behind your ear. At your entrance was two men, one tall and skinny, and the other older with graying hair. “Y/N?” The younger of the two asked, his voice considerably softer than when he’d yelled through your door. You only nodded, and each of the men showed you their badges before the older of the two spoke.
“I’m SSA Rossi, and this is Dr. Reid, we’re with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. Can we come in? We need to ask you a few questions.”
“Uh, yeah, of course.” You opened the door wider now, allowing them both to step inside your small studio. “Um, sorry about the mess, I’m not exactly the most conventional artist.” You apologized. You would've offered them a seat, but you only had two chairs in the place, and they were both occupied by piles of your various art supplies. “What is this about?”
Dr. Reid held a file in his hands, which he passed over to you as he spoke. “Do you recognize any of these paintings?” You open the file to find 4 pictures of your own artwork; portraits of various different people. One short blonde woman, one ginger man with an impressive beard, and a hispanic woman with a pixie cut. 
“Yeah, I painted these a while back...Why does the FBI care about some random commission artwork?”
“Someone commissioned you to do these?” Dr. Reid spoke quickly, causing you to look away from the pictures and back towards him. “Uh, yeah. He calls me every once in a while and asks for weirdly specific portraits.”
“What do you mean, weirdly specific? You don’t base your work off of pictures?” SSA Rossi asked you.
“No, he’s never given me pictures to work from. He just describes the person he wants me to paint. Like about two weeks ago,” You paused as you walked over to your cluttered desk, and grabbed your notepad, which was still open to the page you’d jotted down your notes on, “He asked for a portrait of a short, Asian man with bleach blonde hair, dark eyes, and one pierced ear.” You handed the notepad to Dr. Reid, who scanned it quickly. 
“What’s his name?” He asked, before handing the notepad to his partner.
“Tanner. I don’t know his last name, he always pays with cash. What’d he do?”
The two men looked at each other briefly, before Dr. Reid spoke again, “We believe Tanner has been killing the people that you paint. He left the paintings at the crime scene.”
Your heart dropped. Not only had you been in constant contact with this psychopath, but you felt like you’d inadvertently helped him. You took his money, and he killed the people who looked like your paintings. 
“I know this is shocking, but have you painted anyone else for him?”
“Uh, no, this was the most rece-” You cut yourself off, remembering something from the last time you’d spoken with Tanner. “He bought a painting of me.”
“When?” Dr. Reid asked.
“When, uh, when he picked up the last painting. I had a self-portrait sitting over there that I'd done for fun. He asked if he could have it along with the other one, he paid me extra for it-”
“What day, Y/N?” Dr. Reid placed a hand on your shoulder, trying to comfort you. You felt like you might pass out.
“3 days ago.”
Again, the two agents looked at each other, and their faces didn’t make you feel any better.
“Y/N, why don’t you come with us to the police station, you’ll be safe there.” You could only nod in response letting them lead you out of the studio. Before you exited, Dr. Reid grabbed the paintbrush from behind your ear, placing it on a table before you made your way out to the car.
~~~
Sitting in the police station was like torture. First of all, you were wearing your normal painting outfit: a paint-stained t-shirt an ex had left at your place, jeans that were so ripped up you could barely call them jeans anymore, and of course, socks and sandals. The cops were either completely ignoring your presence, or asking you the same questions you’d already answered dozens of times. One top of all that, they wouldn’t let you do anything besides sit and wait. You had managed to find a paper pad and a pen, so at least your doodling could help pass the time.
You’d been at the station for over an hour already, which meant your doodle was nearly perfect; you ended up drawing one of the agents, Dr. Reid. From where you were sitting, he was in clear sight, and one of the only people who was actually sitting still enough for you to draw. And, y’know, he’s the only person you want to look at long enough for you to draw. 
“Is that me?” His voice startled you; you’d been looking down at the paper and didn’t notice Dr. Reid coming towards you. You dropped the pen immediately, and moved the paper out of his sight.
“I’m sorry Doctor, I was just, y’know, bored and-” You tried to put together a sentence, but your embarrassment was getting the best of you.
“I don’t mind, I, um, think it’s kind of flattering. Can I see it?” Dr. Reid asked, and you reluctantly handed the paper over. You’d been an artist for so long, you were almost never nervous for people to see your work anymore; you have a very “if they like it, great! If they don’t, I don’t care,” kind of attitude when it comes to your artwork. But Dr. Reid was making you nervous. “You don’t have to call me Doctor by the way. Reid is fine. Or, uh, Spencer. You can call me Spencer.” He had a light blush on his face as he spoke, which calmed you a little bit. At least he’s just as nervous as you. Suddenly, as if he was snapped out of his train of thought, Spencer handed the paper back to you and cleared his throat before speaking. “We used the phone number you gave us to find Tanner, but he doesn’t have any listed addresses. Did you ever deliver paintings to him?” Behind him, another one of the agents who’d talked to you, Hotch, walked up.
“Um, no. I’d just call him whenever I finished a painting and he’d come to me.”
“Would you be willing to call him again?” Hotch asked. Your eyes widened at the idea. You’re already terrified at the notion that you may be a target for a serial killer, but calling him? Hotch must have noticed your fear, as he began to explain further, “We can track his location with a phone call, but we need some time to do it. If you’re the one speaking, he’ll probably stay on the line long enough for our technical analyst to find him.” 
You took a deep breath, before nodding slowly. “Y-yeah. I can do that. Can you guys give me a minute first? I need some air.” You didn’t wait for an answer before walking out of the police station. Once you got outside, walked to the end of the building and leaned against the side wall. You closed your eyes, breathing deeply. You couldn’t shake the feeling of responsibility over those people’s deaths. Tanner had taken your artwork, your passion, and ruined it.
“Are you ok?” You looked up to find Spencer standing in front of you, hands in his pockets.
“Not really.” You played with your hands as you spoke, not making eye contact.
“You feel guilty, don’t you?” He asked, as he moved to lean against the wall next to you. 
“Shouldn’t you be inside? Y’know, you’ve got a serial killer to catch.”
“You know there are a lot of signs that someone feels guilty. Avoiding eye contact, changing the subject, lack of an appetite...I noticed you didn’t eat the snacks JJ got for you.” He was right, Agent Jareau had gotten you some snacks that you left untouched back in the station. When you didn’t say anything, Spencer continued, “Usually when I see people acting like this, they have good reason to be guilty. You haven’t done anything wrong, Y/N.”
“I inspired him.” When you looked up at Spencer, he gave you a confused look. “When I saw him last, when he wanted to buy that painting of me, I asked him why. He said that my artwork inspires him. If...If I hadn’t painted those people, they could still be alive.”
“You don’t know that.”
“But there’s a possibility, isn’t there? You can’t say for sure that he would’ve killed them anyways, can you?”
Spencer was silent for a moment, confirming your fears. Eventually, he spoke up. “He may not have killed those exact people, He would’ve killed someone. He’s already killed before.” Your eyebrows shot up at this, so Spencer kept talking, “We think we can connect him to two murders from a few years ago. If he had never used your art as part of his signature, it would’ve taken us a lot longer to find him. He may have even gotten away with it all together.” Spencer’s words did give you a little relief. You still felt bad for the way your art had been used, but it was a good reminder that you weren’t the murderer. That Tanner’s actions had nothing to do with yours.
“Thank you.” Spencer nodded in response, giving you a small smile. “I guess I have a phone call to make.”
~~~ a week later ~~~
You were back in your studio, getting ready for a new painting. Just as you placed your canvas on the easel, there was a knock on the door. When you opened it, you were surprised to find Spencer Reid on the other side. “Spencer?”
“Hi.” There was an awkward moment of silence before Spencer spoke again. “I, uh, saw your mural. It’s beautiful.” A small smile formed on your face at the mention of the mural. After you helped the BAU catch Tanner, you reached out to the family of the victims. With their permission, you painted a mural that was put up at the memorial down the road. The mural had been featured on local DC news channels, which is probably how Spencer had seen it.
“Thank you. I probably wouldn’t have done it if it wasn’t for you.” As you spoke, you moved over so that Spencer could enter the studio space. “Back at the police station, I wanted to quit art. Figured I’d finally put that communications degree to use or something.” Spencer lightly laughed as you continued, “But you made me realize that I can still do something good with my art.”
“I’m glad.” Spencer paused, and took a deep breath, and a step towards you, “Do you, uh, think we could go get coffee sometime? I mean, it doesn’t have to be coffee, we could get tea, or um, lemonade, we could get lemon-”
“Spencer!” You cut him off, with a light laugh. You found his nerves to be both flattering and cute. “I’d love to get any beverage you’d like, as long as you’re there with me.” You ran your hands through your pockets, looking for the sharpie you’d had in your hand before you’d opened the door. “Where is…” you mumbled, looking down at your pockets. Suddenly, you felt Spencer’s hand at your ear, where he pulled down the sharpie you’d placed there.
“Looking for this?” He was now standing close enough to you that he only had to whisper. 
“Yeah” You responded, at the same volume he’d used. You took the sharpie from his hand, but before he could pull it away, you grabbed it and wrote down your phone number. When you finished, you looked up to Spencer’s face, which had turned pink. “Call me whenever.”
Neither you or Spencer said a word, you just stood there, staring at each other. You couldn’t help but try to memorize every feature of his face. Your staring contest was interrupted by Spencer’s phone dinging. He took a step back, much to your disappointment, and looked down at the text. “I, uh, I have to get to work. We have a new case.” You could tell he was disappointed too.
“Ok.” You whispered. Spencer looked at you for one more moment before he did what you least expected; before you even realized what was happening, his hand was wrapped around your waist and his lips were on yours. Your hands found their way to his collar, pulling him even closer to you.
You two didn’t pull apart until Spencer’s phone went off again. “You better call me.” You said, finally letting go of him.
“I will, promise.” Was the last thing he said to you before rushing off to work. When the door closed behind him, you turned to your blank canvas with a clear idea in mind. So you turned up the music, grabbed your paints, and began to put every detail of Spencer you could remember onto the canvas.
~~~
Notes: i’ll be honest idk how i feel about this ending lmao but i hope y’all liked it
Tags: @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @la-vie-en-amour1 @peculiarinsomniac
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itsamejin · 4 years
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this love || yoongi angst
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Summary: A story through the years detailing your relationship with Yoongi and all the ups and downs that came with dating an idol. 
Warning: cursing, sexually suggestive content
Genre: angst, fluff, idol!yoongi, artist!yn
Pairing: Yoongi x female!reader
Premise: Based on the song ‘This Love’ by Taylor Swift. Reader is an artist.
Commission Request: @minyoongail​
Word Count: 7,681 words
You met Yoongi when he was just a trainee, ready to take on the world and bursting with energy to get on stage. He had visions of grandeur- him living in a beautiful mansion, wearing name-brand jewelry, cruising in rare sports vehicles. When times were simpler, he’d promise that you’d be there with him, indulging in the glitz and glamour that came with his fame. He’d be an idol and you’d be his muse. Yet under all those pretenses, under all those empty promises, he was just Yoongi.
He was a guy who walked in and out of your life as easily as ocean tides come and go on the shore. He taught you how to fall in love, fall out of it, and rekindle it all the same. It was a sort of beautiful asphyxiation, being wrapped up in his lifestyle and learning to accept the consequences that came with dating a celebrity.
You wonder even now as you search his name on the internet, if you had any regrets. After all, you lost too much to be with him.
April 2013
A first meeting meant everything to you, especially when it came to your clients. You didn’t accept jobs from weirdos who didn’t respect your craft and you definitely hated impatient ones who badgered you to finish your pieces as quick as possible.
Big Hit was a happy medium and had hired you as a contract employee after reviewing your portfolio. Although the style of work they wanted from you was not at all what you specialized in, you were happy that they treated you like an actual employee and not some sort of machine. Plus, the pay was good.
You were asked to work on some cute animal characters for an upcoming boy group that you weren’t terribly familiar with, maybe stumbled on a vlog of theirs that you forgot about. You were intrigued by the slew of trainees that sat in front of you, their palms clenched out of anxiousness.
“I’m [Y/N], one of the digital artists that will be working with you guys from now on,” you introduce yourself politely to the seven bright-eyed boys in front of you.
You were in a room with other staff members, discussing the concept of the “Hip Hop Monsters” your graphics team was working on. This was a planned project lasting over a span of years and would eventually result in collectors edition items. It made you giddy just thinking of the royalties you’d earn from it all.
“I’d like it if the animals took after us,” one of the boys suggested shyly, slightly intimidated by the large number of corporate employees there were in the room for something that seemed so trivial. “I think our fans would like the characters more if they kind of resembled our personalities and stuff...”
You nod along to his suggestions, staring at his jersey to notice that the member who spoke up was Rap Monster. It was cute how they all wore clothes with their names on them. That’s one way to attract attention, you suppose.
“Any other suggestions you guys have for us?” you ask, jotting down notes and making rough sketches as they talk amongst themselves.
“I’d like it if,” a somewhat husky voice starts and you can’t help but stare into the guy’s eyes as he speaks, “my character was a turtle.”
You burst out into a fit of laughter along with the other staff members. He had said it with such a straight face and with so little enthusiasm, yet you could tell from his slight blush that he was serious. He was cute in the way that he wasn’t trying to be.
“You resemble one,” you grin at him, drawing out a small turtle with a cute beanie on your iPad, like the one he wore in front of you. You show it to him. “Something like this?”
“Exactly that!”
He breaks out into a gummy smile, one so bright that it hurt your heart to stare at him for too long. Now you were the one left flustered. He realizes how enthusiastic he was and got embarrassed once again, scratching the back of his head to avoid eye-contact.
“S-sorry, for shouting. It looks good.”
You bite your lip from forming too big of a grin. You still had to remain professional after all.
“You’re welcome,” you smirk slightly as he goes back to trying to look cool. You can’t help but doodle his name on your iPad even as the other members shared ideas for their own animals.
Suga, Suga, Suga.
You smile to yourself. It does have a ring to it.
June 2013
Yoongi sees you in the hallways sometimes and wants to say hi, but he can’t because other people are watching. Though, that isn’t the only reason.
He tells himself every day that he’ll muster up the courage to go talk to you, but every time he sees your face his legs turn to jelly. Yoongi was busy with debut stages recently, but he found some free time in his schedule to approach you.
Yoongi was never the shy type, more reserved if anything else, but you had something that enamored him- intrigued him. He wanted to know who you were other than the cute girl he was stuck in meetings with from time to time.
As you sat there on your desk, Yoongi lingered in an area nearby. He would give you his number today and if things didn’t work out then that would be that. There was no need to be all shy about this; it’s not like this is his first time asking someone out.
He strides over to you with feigned confidence and you look up after a minute, not noticing how his shadow loomed over you. He sees that you’re working on realistic portraits of the members and not the cutesy characters he usually sees you drawing.
“Hi,” he says curtly, trying to seem disinterested though he was the one that approached you first.
“Hello,” you smile up at him.
Suga.
“You draw really cool stuff,” he says to break the awkward tension. “You should show it to the CEO. I’m sure we’d have cooler concepts for our albums with your work.”
You look up at him, a happy glint in your eyes. He was complimenting you, although avoiding eye contact to seem a little less nervous than he really was.
“Well, I’m just a contract worker so I don’t think I really have the authority to start up new projects out of nowhere,” you say with a smile on your face at how flustered he looks. “I feel like you’re here to ask me for something. Am I right?”
He looks away for a split second, coughing to alleviate his nerves. He was a grown man for fuck’s sake, why was this so difficult?
“I was actually wondering if you could come give me some opinions about some art that I drew,” he lies through his teeth, just trying to find a way to get you in a more private area than the corporate floor teaming with watchful gazes. “I’ve been trying to start a new hobby.”
You chuckle slightly, seeing right through his words. You stand up to amuse him.
“I’d be happy to.”
He leads you to a studio filled with whacky knick-knacks and dim lighting, not necessarily the best place to draw. You know by now that he just said those things as an excuse to be alone with you.
“So where’s this masterpiece?” you tease slightly at his nervous expression. How did a guy who looked so deadpan have such a giddy personality?
“Well actually,” he starts off, palms already sweaty. “I-It’s not here right now, but I think I left it at the dorms. Maybe if we exchange phone numbers I can text it to you.”
He tried to appear nonchalant, but his hands moved as if he was doing a public speaking presentation. Yoongi thought he was doing great, though growing a little more nervous at how you were giggling.
“You know, Suga,” you start teasingly, “My number is in the company directory. Feel free to text me anytime.”
Yoongi slightly cringes hearing his stage name. He loves it, don’t get him wrong, but he didn't like hearing it come from you. He didn’t like the unfamiliar aspect that came with using his stage name- like you two only went by professional terms.
“Call me Yoongi,” he says with genuine confidence this time. “I like it better when my friends call me Yoongi.”
You nod, relieved that you could finally know this cute guy’s name. Truth be told, you were snooping around his conversations with other people to figure it out.
“So we’re friends?”
Yoongi nods, sitting down in his rolling chair.
“I’d like to be,” he grins, patting the sofa, hoping you’d take a seat with him.
And you do.
Present
It’s hard to work efficiently when you’re no longer in a corporate space. There’s no boss to check up on your progress nor is there a nosy coworker trying to see what you’re doing from the corner of their eye. You missed the hustle and bustle of an office floor, but it was nice exploring your creativity through freelance work.
You tap your digital pen onto the table repeatedly, looking at the reference image over and over again. It was a sick joke played by the universe to have been commissioned to draw your ex-boyfriend’s idol group, but you couldn’t refuse the hundreds of dollars the ecstatic fangirl was willing to give you. Truth be told, she might have offered too much pay, but you took up her offer anyway. Money is money.
Yet a face you’ve touched so often, a person you’d been with for years felt so unfamiliar to you. It wasn’t like you were drawing him realistically either. The client wanted anime-style figures that resembled them, looked enough like the boys to display it as her Twitter header. In the end, it’s still too difficult to draw. The rest of the members were lined up and sketched perfectly, but there was a blank area where Yoongi’s face should’ve been.
Your wrists hurt from the constant drawing and erasing so you set it down to massage your hand from cramping. In moments like these, you hated your job.
Ting.
A message notification popped up on your phone that laid beside your iPad. You usually left it silent when you were working, but you opened yourself up to distractions when drawing this particular piece. Whoever thought it was a good idea to specialize in celebrity artwork? You pick up your phone and smiled softly at the text.
hey, can I come over?
March 2014
“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Yoongi, happy birthday to you~~”
You cheer on with the rest of the boys in their cramped dorm. Somehow you had gotten close enough with them to be at this level of comfort, sitting crisscrossed and shoulders touching with Jungkook and Seokjin. Yoongi blows out the candles and claps his hands, a little sad that another year passed by so quickly. He kept glancing at you who was focused on cutting the cake like the perfectionist you were.
He couldn’t help but feel like time was running out, like if he didn’t confess to you now then it would never happen. Yoongi took off the beanie he wore and ruffled his hair. He was feeling anxious all of a sudden.
“Dude don’t do that your dandruff is gonna get everywhere,” Hoseok whines. “The cake is gonna be decorated with your dead skin cells.”
“Go wash your hands,” Jin commands and Yoongi could only roll his eyes.
“Relax, I don’t even think we’re gonna have cake anytime soon when this slow-poke is taking forever to cut.”
He flicks your forehead as you glare up at him.
“I could so easily throw this in your face, but I choose not to,” you stick your tongue out at him and he scoffs.
“I’d like to see you try.”
All the members groan out of annoyance.
“Oh my god they’re having a lovers quarrel again,” Jimin yawned. “Aren’t you guys sick of arguing?”
Yoongi freezes at his words. Lover’s quarrel. That was a nice way to put it.
“They’ll stop arguing when Yoongi finally-”
Taehyung was cut off as Yoongi swipes three fingers worth of frosting from the cake and lathers it all over Taehyung’s face.
“You talk too much,” Yoongi shakes his head and soon chaos descended. Cake flew in places it shouldn’t have and ended when Namjoon knocked over a glass of water, managing to break it on the floor tiles. In the end, no one got cake.
Yoongi and you were laughing amongst yourselves at the kitchen sink, washing off some of the bits that got onto your shirts.
“I’m so sorry about your cake,” you say through your chuckles. “I’ll make it up to you some time.”
Yoongi only smiles.
“Yeah, you can treat me on a date,” he replies a little too boldly. You look at him in shock, not quite processing his words.
“A date?”
He nods.
“We should go out sometime.”
You purse your lips to prevent the huge grin about to be displayed on your face.
“We should.”
Present
It was subtle, the way it all started. You trace over the features you drew so far, only getting to his eyes. Yoongi and you were innocent lovers for a while, keeping your trysts a secret from everyone in the company except his managers and the members. A few of your friends knew, but none of them knew BTS well enough to be all that surprised. It wasn’t all that rare to go out with a celebrity in your line of work.
You almost miss those days when he was unrecognizable. After your friends realized who he was after he hit it big globally, you felt like a secret of yours was displayed to them. Your love was supposed to be private, but his fame left very little room for privacy. You missed when you were the only one that knew of him and maybe it’s selfish to think that way, but you were past the point of being selfish.
You text back.
yeah, can't wait to see you
Jan. 2015
Yoongi lays you down on the couch gently. His hands caressing your sides underneath the thin material of your shirt as he pulls you in closer to his kisses. This felt different from other nights, different in that there was nothing around to stop what would come next.
He pulls away from you slightly, panting from the lack of oxygen.
“Are you sure?” he asks, drawing circles on your hip with his thumb. He was only supposed to come over to help you unpack some stuff for your new apartment and here you were, pinned on the couch and sweating from the close contact.
You nod back in response, not finding the right words to get him to continue. He pulls your shirt over your head, peppering kisses on your neck and atop your breasts. He fixates on your neck languidly, biting as he sees fits.
There was a pause as you felt him press up against you and you knew then that there was no making it to the bed. You would have your first time with him on this newly moved-in couch.
The clothes dropped to the ground as his touches get more impatient, more desperate. It all passes by like a blur and you could only remember the pleasure that came with his long fingers, the satisfaction you felt when he was inside you. The climax of it all made you realize that you loved him, truly and without regret. He holds you in his arms when you come undone, flashing a satiated smile as you look up at him. It’s like the stars were in his eyes.
“How do you feel?” you ask him, worried he was already drowsy. You didn’t want to have to sleep on the couch naked.
“Satisfied,” he says with a smile on his face.
You can’t help but swoon, his eyes fixated on you. At least for now, he was yours He wasn’t Suga, a rapper. He was Yoongi, your boyfriend.
It didn't matter to you that he was struggling to make a name for himself in this cut-throat idol industry or that he would spend countless nights cursing as one of his numerous tracks get rejected. None of that was in your mind. Only he swam through your thoughts. Only him.
“I love you,” he sighs out. He was the first to say it.
“I love you too,” you reply back and he holds you tight against him.
He’s nuzzling himself in your hair, his chest pressed up against you so his heartbeat can synch with yours. He loves this, can’t get enough of it. He catches your lips and once again you are whisked in the pleasure of it all. This is it. This is what love is.
Present
The piece is finally finished and you send it off to your client, hoping she doesn’t ask for revisions because you can’t handle another second of drawing his stupid face. His soft skin, his tiny moles, his gummy smile...
It's not like you hate him. It’s just... a certain contempt lingers after a breakup from a long-term relationship. It’s the type of resentment that can’t really be explained. You don’t want to see him, but you catch yourself watching his videos on Youtube. You don’t want to think about him, but you hope he thinks about you. You don’t see yourself ever getting back together with him, but you don’t have his phone number blocked.
It’s a sort of paradox you catch yourself in and you wonder if you could ever get out of it. Will Yoongi ever escape your mind?
can't wait to see u too babe
Aug. 2016
Yoongi hugs you from behind, his face scrunched at the nape of your neck where several marks were made from last night’s events. Your eyes stayed focus on the TV in front of you, still impressed by your own ability to afford one in your bedroom at your salary.
“BTS' SUGA drops new music video for his song and mixtape Agust D...”
The news anchor drones on and you could barely hear her through the sounds of Yoongi’s soft snores. His hold on you grew tighter as he hears his stage name from an unfamiliar voice and it makes you giggle slightly at how different the edgy music video being displayed was from the same person wrapping you in his arms so tightly.
“Babe, wake up. I have work to do,” you whisper into his hair and he only shakes his head back in response.
“No,” he mutters, pulling you into him closer. You roll your eyes, managing to pry off one of his hands as you sit up on the bed.
“Don’t you have studio stuff to do today?” you ask him, searching for a shirt to wear.
He shakes his head as his eyes start to flutter open. You both reeked of alcohol since you opened a bottle of wine last night to celebrate the release of his first solo work. He was proud of it and you were proud of him.
“Can you turn that off, I’m getting a migraine,” he whines, covering his head with a pillow. You opted to wear Yoongi’s shirt instead of your own since you couldn’t be bothered to walk to the other side of the bed to find it. You smiled at his laying figure, cooped in a fetal-like position. He was still naked, but you were with him long enough to no longer be phased by that sort of thing.
“From one bottle of wine?” you tease slightly. “I think you’re losing your touch, Agust D.”
You chuckle as he throws the pillow on top of his head towards you.
“Don’t call me that,” he pouts, “It feels like you’re making fun of me.”
You stand up from where you were, stretching out your back as you make your way to the door.
“That’s because I am,” you smirk, “You know you’re saved on my phone as Sugar?”
He gives you a glare.
“It’s Suga,” he says, attempting to add some intimidation to his voice. It doesn’t work because all you do is stick your tongue out at him.
“Whatever sugar.”
He chuckles lightly and watches the silhouette of your figure exit his view. Yoongi can’t help but mindlessly follow after you.
As you exit towards the kitchen, you can’t help but hear the television from the bedroom.
“Suga has recently been caught up in a dating scandal with Suran, the solo artist, who sang with him in a song...”
Your head snaps up from those words, your skin crawling with goosebumps. You make it into the kitchen but with a heavy heart and no appetite.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, passing by you to pour himself some water.
“Nothing,” you say, though you sounded bitter. He caught on quite quickly. You were jealous again.
Yoongi heaves out a deep sigh and sets the glass of water down. He comes over to your angry figure and gives you a soft hug, laying his head on top of yours as if to comfort you. You try to pull away but he keeps you close.
“I’ll tell them to drop the rumors, okay?,” he says, genuinely enough to make you believe him. “I don’t want us to fight so early in the morning.”
“You promise?”
He pulls away.
“I promise,” he says, brushing a hair away from your face. “Let’s not think about those rumors right now. You and me both know they’re not true.”
You were never one to forget so easily.
It was around 2016 when you had stopped working at Big Hit. They halted the Hip Hop Monster brand and your contract was expiring with them anyway. You went from living a kush office life to struggling freelance worker in a matter of a second. It also meant that Yoongi and you would be spending less time together. His busy schedules couldn’t permit him to stay with you longer than a few hours and his presence slowly started to disappear from his side of the bed.
It was like a sinking ship, what you had with him. The pain starts off slow, unnoticeable. You’ll still laugh and keep up appearances as time passes, but you could tell there was an ominous atmosphere that wasn’t initially there in the relationship. Your screams start to grow silent as more problems start to stack on top of each other. It’s then when you hit the iceberg. It’s then when it all starts to fall apart.
He was still good for you, you convinced yourself, even as the currents swept you out under your feet.
Dec. 2016
“What the fuck do you mean you’re not coming?” you yell through your phone. You were sitting on the floor of your living room, holiday decorations strewn around the apartment. He promised he’d come spend a day off of his winter promotions to be with you.
“You know how hectic the end of the year gets with promotions,” he says in quiet hushes. “I can’t do anything about it. This is my job.”
You suck in your cheeks to prevent yourself from yelling. From the sound of it, he was in public.
“Yoongi, I called out of talking to a really high-paying client,” you say through gritted teeth. “And I still came home. Why am I the only one making sacrifices?”
He sighed at the other end. He didn’t have the patience to deal with you today.
“Look, can you stop being so fucking needy. I don’t need this right now.”
He couldn’t tell from the phone call, but your heart broke at the word. Needy. He thought that you were needy.
“I’m already stressed out as it is,” he continues through the phone. “I don’t need you up my ass all the time.”
“I’m not gonna wait for you,” you reply, tears threatening to spill over. “I’m going to sleep and you’re gonna get rid of all the shit you have in my apartment. I’m sick of you, Yoongi.”
He scoffs.
“I’m sick of you too.”
Yoongi hangs up, about ready to hit the wall when Jimin comes to calm him down. Small things that were never meant to be taken seriously built up until it was ready to crash down.
When Yoongi comes at night to visit you, he sees that you’re asleep on the couch. He sits next to you, pulling you into his arms.
“I’m sorry baby,” he whispers quietly. “I’ll do better.”
You nuzzled closer to him, comforted by words you forget the next day. Even when you woke up with a bad neck and Yoongi snoring onto your skin, you couldn’t find a way to stay mad at him. You knew, deep down, that some way or the other you’re gonna find yourself arguing about the same thing next week.
Present
Junghoon comes to pick you up. Junghoon, your boyfriend.
He’s a little uptight and too stern for his own good, but has a good heart and a knack of giving great gifts. You met him from working in the same industry, a 3D graphics designer for several video game companies. He was a new addition to your life, your relationship only about three months old.
You were warming up to him slowly, thankful for finally having a consistent presence in your life. He always made time for you, never used work as an excuse, and didn’t act cold just for the sake of acting cold. Junghoon was sweet in the way that Yoongi used to be when he wasn’t such a massive celebrity.
It was a relief to have someone like Junghoon in your life that didn’t walk in and out of your door without much of a thought to even say goodbye. Your life with him has been a tad bit dull, but you don’t mind all that much. Junghoon’s made you feel secure in ways that Yoongi couldn’t.
May 2017
“Your boyfriend is winning a whole ass award across the world and you’re having ramen with me?” Chaerin sighs. It’s typical for a best friend to judge the actions of the other.
“Yeah and?” you reply snarkily, swirling your chopstick around to find the perfect clump of noodles. “I’m not the top social artist according to Billboard, what’s it have to do with me?”
She rolls her eyes at you.
“I don’t know, you could at least watch him win the award?” she suggests. “The live stream is literally happening right now. Your boyfriend is making history and you don’t even care!”
You look at the clock on the restaurant wall. It was nearing 2 o’clock and your client meeting would be starting soon. You were in high demand as a graphic artist recently and as far as you were concerned, that was the only thing on your mind at the moment. You stare back into your bowl, suddenly losing your appetite.
“The apartment is lonely without him,” you admit sadly.
He bought one for himself and had you move in. ‘It’s easier to not get noticed by the tabloids,’ he convinced you. The modern sleekness of his penthouse was a nice change to your lifestyle, but you missed the comfiness of your small studio apartment. It was often too cold when he wasn’t around.
“You could watch it with me?” Chaerin suggested. “Yoongi’s probably so sad that his own girlfriend doesn’t even want to watch him win such a major award.”
You bite down on your chopstick harshly.
“Well he didn't even want me to come with him so I don’t wanna hear anymore about him from you.”
Chaerin squinted her eyes in your direction.
“Well I mean I get where he’s coming from. He’s still an idol, [Y/N],” she scolds. “It would be a massive risk to take you with him.”
You shook your head disapprovingly, pushing the bowl away from you.
“I’m not an idiot, Chae. It’s not like I was asking to be on the red carpet with him, I just wanted to be there waiting in the hotel room after the show. Two nights ago he suddenly backs out and says I shouldn’t come.”
Chaerin’s jaw dropped out of shock. That wasn’t what she was expecting at all.
“Did he say why?”
You stare down at your nails, your heart growing heavy as a long pause of silence takes place. It would be better to be honest, right? You shouldn’t have to pretend like everything’s okay when it clearly isn’t.
“He said he wants space,” you say, careful not to get choked up. “So I’m giving it to him.”
You clutch your thigh instinctively, remembering how Yoongi had brought that up with you just nights before. You two weren’t happy and that he needed to figure himself out before the relationship gets any worse. It’s just a break or whatever bullshit he spouted.
She scoffs.
“What is wrong with you two?” she asks, genuinely concerned. “You are not the type of person to take a break in a relationship.”
You stare bitterly into the reflection of your soup.
“I just don’t think I’ve been happy for a while,” you reply, taking a sip of your water that was left untouched for a better half of the night. “I don’t think he is either.”
Sept. 2017
The break lasted for months and you wondered if it was really even a break at all. It felt more like a break up if you were honest. He’d text once in a while and video call you when he was free but other than that it felt like he became a stranger, just another celebrity billboard you walked past on your way to a client’s workplace.
You’d draw sketches of him countlessly, in fear you’d forget how his face looked in real life and not through a low-quality screen. You etched every baby hair, every small blemish he’d hide with makeup. It was your method of not forgetting who the real Yoongi was because honestly, you didn’t know anymore. You didn’t know him.
Trrrringggg.
The sound of your doorbell could be heard all throughout your apartment. You stood up from where you sat on the bed, leaving the sketchbook of his face on the comforter. You weren’t expecting any visitors, but surely enough, Yoongi stood in front of you with a lopsided grin on his face.
“Hey.”
You let him in, not uttering a single word. He looks different now. His hair was black, thank god, but his face was a little softer than you were used to. You remember him being so paranoid about turning bald just a few years ago and here he was, no bald spots to be found. He looked healthy.
“It’s been a while,” you respond, hugging your arms close to your chest, uncomfortable that he was in your presence. It was his apartment technically, but you lived in it more than he did. He opted to stay in the dorm ever since he issued that idiotic break.
“I miss you,” he says in a lowly voice and you almost believe him. Almost.
You scoff.
“It seems like you’ve been having fun without me though,” you say through gritted teeth. “I thought you still wanted space?”
He shakes his head and brings his hand to touch your arm.
“No,” he swallows his saliva. “I miss you.”
You could feel his sincerity, but you can’t help but not trust him. He’s been viciously cold to you, but you find yourself pulling him closer anyway.
“Don’t ever do that again,” you threaten. “It’ll really be over then, Yoongi.”
He sighs into your hair. He loves you. He does. But he doesn’t know why it’s so hard to express it.
“I promise [Y/N]. I won’t leave.”
Aug. 2018
He buys you flowers, your favorite kind. It’s a small gesture, but it has you jumping into his arms all the same. It shows that he still cares somewhat. It’s been a while since he’s last shown it.
He holds you closely, appreciating the softness of your body and how you curl perfectly into him.
“I want to stay like this,” you say mindlessly, just relishing in his presence.
You’re not mad at him today and he’s not frustrated with you. It’s a high point in your relationship.
“Me too.”
His words are simple but it warms your heart nonetheless. Yoongi looks at you with twinkling eyes and for a moment you think that this could last forever and that it will last forever. You kiss him slowly and he reciprocates.
It reminds you of your first time, slow and careful- like you were the last person he’d ever want to hurt.
His love, although painful at times, was good to you when you needed it to be.
July 2019
Yoongi’s gone again. He’s on tour, as usual, and not giving you any updates. You were getting sick of it. The constant waiting, the constant insecurities that ate you up inside. You weren’t built to endure this kind of torture.
Suga. Suga. Suga.
It rolls off the tongue but it feels disgusting coming out of your mouth. His stage name, a persona. He starts to resemble that name more and more as the days go by. You hear it so much now that it no longer registers as an actual word.
You call him.
He doesn’t pick up.
Again.
No answer.
You’re about ready to throw the phone at the wall until a soft ring was heard from the small device. You take the call immediately, smiling as if you passed the hardest difficulty of a video game. The grin would soon be wiped away, though.
“Why’d you call?” he grumbles from the other line, loud music blasting in the background.
“Why weren’t you picking up?” You sound bitter. You don’t care.
“I’m out right now,” he says, exasperation laced in his voice. “I’m not in the mood to talk.”
Clearly, he just wasn’t in the mood to talk to you. Yoongi was at a party or a club or wherever he could possibly be in the streets of Shizuoka at 10 p.m.
You just wanted to chat, check on him as a good girlfriend would. He’s been complaining that you haven’t been in a while. You thought this was what he wanted- for you to care.
“I just wanted to see if you were doing okay,” you sigh. “How’d the concert go?”
“Good,” he says, clearly distracted. “Some of us snuck out of the hotel rooms to let loose for a bit.”
You nod as if he could see you.
“So you’re partying?”
You could hear him laugh at the other end, but it wasn’t from your comment. Someone else was making him laugh. Someone with a light and dainty voice, whiny as she got closer to Yoongi.
“Yeah, I guess you could call it that,” he says, clearly distracted. “Listen I’ll call you back, okay?”
You feel a lump stuck in your throat. There are no words left to say. The foreign girl on the other end giggled harder at whatever Yoongi was saying and it felt like you were invading their privacy- as if she was his girlfriend and you were nothing. You hung up, your mouth feeling dry as the tears poured down.
You see a text from Yoongi just a few seconds into your wallowing. You sniffle as you read it.
don’t misunderstand. nothing’s happening rn i'm just having a bit of fun.
This time you really threw your phone at the wall.
You go to your iPad that’s sitting untouched on your desk. You open your drawing app and just let the anger in the stylus take you from there. You draw a rough sketch of a couple on the edge of a beachside cliff. The woman seems to be falling into the water as if she was pushed. The guy’s hand reaches out to her, but you can’t really tell if he was trying to grab her or if he was the one that let her go in the first place.
As the tears spilled onto the cool surface of the iPad, you sob harder. Nothing could be fixed and everything still felt broken. It was meaningless, sleeping in his bed and wearing his clothes when he was all the way in Japan snuggling up to girls that were probably much prettier and much more willing to understand his lifestyle.
You look around the penthouse he had bought for the two of you, beautiful wide panel windows and modern furniture. It mostly looks empty, everything nice and tidy as if no one lived here. It had such a stark contrast to that of his old life when he shared rooms with other members and had no place to really put his keyboard except the studio. You smiled at the memory of you all hovering around the small coffee table in the cramped living room eating ramen.
Maybe it was your fault for falling behind, for letting the world around you build up and not follow in Yoongi’s tracks.
Present
You guess it was then when the relationship had passed a point of no return. When everything that felt right had started to feel incredibly wrong. You tolerated his presence rather than bask in it. You heard him speak but couldn’t bother to listen. Maybe you were petty, but more than anything you were angry.
You were angry that he could break you that badly and you would still forgive him for it.
You stare over at Junghoon who’s cooking you up something on the stove. This is what you needed.
Nov. 2019
Yoongi was back from some big-name award show that you didn’t watch. You heard he won Artist of the Year or whatever, the accolades that he’s collected no longer having meaning as the days pass. Why be happy for him when he himself showed no signs of excitement? This was routine. He expected the awards at this point.
You walked towards him. Yoongi looked angry, though you have no idea why.
“Hey, I made dinner to celebrate,” you tell him. Yoongi’s sitting on the couch, scrolling through the congratulatory messages he received from other industry stars. He looked like he needed to get something off his chest.
“I’m not hungry,” he mutters. “Just leave it.”
“Are you sure?”
He scoffs. It was a simple question.
“Not in the mood.”
You give him a pointed look and sit next to him.
“Why are you never in the mood for anything?” you ask him. “It’s just food Yoongi. I just want to eat with you.”
You don’t see it properly but he rolls his eyes.
“Just drop it okay? Today’s a good day, I don’t need you to ruin it.”
You suck in your cheeks.
“Ruin?”
Yoongi sighs heavily.
“You know that’s not what I meant,” he starts, facing you. “Why do you have to be so dramatic over everything.”
You grit your teeth.
“Dramatic?” your voice quivers. “I didn’t know feeling hurt was being dramatic.”
His gaze softens and he touches your arm lightly.
“Sorry, I didn't mean it like that.”
You shake your head, feeling your eyes dampen at his words.
“I hate your apologies, Yoongi,” you say in a hushed tone. “They don’t mean anything anymore.”
He’s shocked, not really sure how to respond. You were never one to confront him, especially when he was angry. Instead, he holds your hand softly. He was terrible at comforting people.
“Yoongi are you really sorry?” you ask abruptly. It was a question you’ve been meaning to ask for years now.
His grip on you tightened and you can’t quite read his expression, but you can tell that it’s not a positive response. He looks conflicted and he shouldn’t have to be if he really was. You force him to let go of you.
“I am,” he says, knowing he answered a little too late for his words to not seem suspicious.
“I don’t think you are,” you reply sadly. “You say sorry more than you-”
say I love you.
He doesn’t let you finish the sentence because he knows. He knows what you’re trying to say.
“I am,” he says with more sincerity, but he looks at you with an unreadable expression. “I just don’t think it’s enough at this point.”
“What’s not enough?”
You were confused. Is he still talking about whether he's apologetic or not? Or is it something entirely different?
“I do love you,” he says with a certain conviction in his voice, “and I always will, but it feels like nothing’s working out.”
Yoongi doesn’t look at you and focuses on the leather of the fancy couch. He doesn’t say anything but you know what this means. He’s about to stand up, but you grab onto his wrist.
“This is your apartment,” you say before he could say anything to break your heart even further. “I’ll leave.”
“[Y/N], no,” he says. “You don’t have anywhere else to go. I’m just gonna stay over at the dorm. I just...”
Your eyes get blurry from the tears. Even now it felt like he was looking down at you. Nowhere to go. It was like he pitied you.
“...need to go clear my mind,” he finishes the sentence, standing up to grab his coat.
You shake your head and stand in front of him. He’s usually like this. A coward. A bumbling fool who would rather avoid problems than face them head on.
“I need you to stay, Yoongi,” you cry out. “I need you to actually stay for once and comfort me.”
He looks at you, mouth open but no words come out. He smiles sadly and walks toward you, kissing your cheek.
“I don’t think I can do that anymore, [Y/N],” he says and you watch him leave as easily as he walked in.
It’s not like he ever comforted you in the first place.
The break up happened silently over a late-night phone call a few days after he disappeared on you. You packed up your things, stayed over at Chaerin’s house, and braced yourself for what was to come. It should’ve happened sooner, you admit, but your heart still sinks when he speaks.
“I just don’t think either of us is willing to try anymore,” he says solemnly. “We’ve been on and off for the past few years and I don’t think it’s healthy for either of us to continue.”
You agree, just wanting the call to end quickly so you wouldn’t have to hear his voice any longer. It hurt to have to listen to him rationalize breaking your heart.
“I don’t think we should be together anymore, [Y/N],” he says, not even a tiny bit choked up. “I think we’ve... outgrown each other.”
You knew what Yoongi really meant. He’s outgrown you.
“I think so too,” you say rigidly. Short and simple. You left nothing to be desired. “Let’s break up.”
Yoongi looks at his phone, slightly disappointed. He wished you would fight back, maybe rekindle something in him that he’s lost over the years. Yet you were silent on the line and he just had to accept it- that there was nothing left to be saved.
“Take care, okay?” he says softly because in the end he still cares- he just doesn’t want to anymore.
“I will,” you reply, ultimately hanging up the phone. You collapse onto a bed unfamiliar to you. Yoongi would no longer sleep beside you, no longer reach over to hug your side and whisper sweet nothings in your ear. He was gone and you had to accept that maybe he was never yours in the first place.
His last words replay in your mind.
Take care.
That was the most concern he’s ever shown you in the past few weeks. You almost scoff at the absurdity of it all. You don’t notice how truly broken you were until the tears start streaming down your face. You see the image of him through blurry eyes and you wonder how you could let Yoongi leave such a permanent scar on your heart.
Present
“Do you like your eggs runny or no?”
Junghoon asks as you approach his figure. You hug him from behind and smile at his warmth. Safe.
“Just a little runny,” you reply.
He smiles and nods, turning off the heat and grabbing some seasoning from your cupboard. You detach yourself from him when you realized what he was grabbing.
“Babe that’s not salt. That’s-”
Sugar.
You stop yourself from saying it and Junghoon looks at you with concern. He chuckles at your stoic state and ruffles your hair.
“Cat got your tongue or what?” he asks, grabbing the right container this time. “Maybe I should’ve asked if you like your eggs sweet instead, huh?”
“I’ve never tried that combination before,” you say teasingly. “Why don’t you test it out for us.”
He clicks his tongue at you and splashes some salt on your face.
“I’ll pour sugar all over you if that’s what you really want.”
You laugh half-heartedly. A simple word shouldn’t affect you this much but you find yourself get more teary-eyed as it repeats in your head. It wasn’t fair to Junghoon that you were thinking of your ex in his presence. It wasn’t fair to you either.
You feel a vibration from your pocket and you pull it out to serve as a distraction from your wallowing thoughts. It’s a text.
From Sugar.
A/N: This was so hard to write because my mind has just been empty these days but I’m so glad it’s done now >_< Thank you to @minyoongail​ for requesting this story. I’ve been bumping to the Taylor Swift song now because of this commissions T^T I recommend you all to listen to it. I tried to write this in a different style from my other works so I hope this is still readable for you all LOL
I’m closing commissions temporarily to focus on the ones I have now and to also start writing my own stuff. Let me know how you feel about this, I appreciate all types of comments and criticisms <3 Look forward to Part 2!
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4aloysius-porteu · 3 years
Text
i really wish i hated you || tsukishima kei
masterlist | 1 | 2 | chapter 3
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pairing: tsukishima kei x f! reader
sypnosis: It was an accident that (Y/N) met a certain tall, blonde male; a memory she isn't fond of remembering, but it is where it all started. And ever since, she magically makes her to his path. The image of the bespectacled man dwelled in her mind more than she thought. Tsukishima pushed away his softer emotions and denied their existence, or at least that's what he told himself. But then, he couldn't believe that this girl he labeled as a clumsy, unlucky creature who smashed his glasses is slowly bringing these strange emotions back to him. She might be irritating and dumb sometimes, but he couldn't get himself to completely hate her. Either that destiny was stupid, or he was blessed or cursed.
genre: fanfiction, fluff
wc: 2.6k
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She has met the tall, blonde, and bespectacled male yet again.
"Oh, the midget stalker is here."
"You again?! Seriously, I think it's you who's following me!"
"Hah, what do I get from following an extremely short person like you?" He said, borrowing her words from yesterday.
(Y/N)'s eyebrows creased further in irritation. "Why do you keep mentioning my height?!"
"It was you who started it. Anyways, can you shut up? Do you know that you're in a library?"
She didn't retort back and simply sat on the chair with her arms crossed. It was a fine day then —BOOM— this giant decided to appear out of nowhere. She was trying to forget this person who's associated with some of her embarrassing moments but those just got smashed back to her mind. (Y/N) sighed and pulled a book at the bottom of the stack to start reading, but noticed that the blondie is still standing near the edge of the table, hesitating to sit down while glancing somewhere and back to her.
"What?" (Y/N) frowned.
"Why am I unnecessarily stuck with you on this table?" He sighed, pulling out the chair.
"Because all of the tables here are taken? If you're worried about your glasses being knocked off, don't worry, I won't do anything reckless anymore."
"That's a nice reassurance," He settled down and brought out his studying materials.
Both of them shared the table in the crowded library. Ignoring the people, between them was a silent atmosphere. No one was talking as they both minded their own studies; he was reading quietly and turning pages of a huge book while (Y/N) wrote key points from the printed work and highlighting her notes. Sometimes, the other would leave to return books to their shelves and came back with new stacks. This went on for a few hours until her pen ran out of ink. She scribbled at the back of her notebook in hopes that the ink just got stuck, to no avail. She sighed, resting her head on the notebook. But she really needed to take down notes for her upcoming entrance exam.
"Hey." (Y/N) reluctantly said.
The blonde male looked at her, confirming if he's being called, "What?"
"I'm sorry to interrupt your business but... do you have a spare pen?"
He stared at her with a straight face and placed his chin on the top of his knuckles, implying his refusal to lend one.
(Y/N)'s mentally gritted her teeth. I'm just going to borrow a pen and he's making it hard for me?!
Swallowing her pride, she said, "Look, I need to finish my notes. I'll return it to you right away when I'm done. I promise. Please?"
He scoffed as brought out a pen, "An inkless pen is all it takes for you to become a less lively puppy? You better keep your promise."
A puppy?! "You didn't need to compare me to a puppy but, thanks."
She continued her work but her focus was a bit shaken. This happens whenever she's interrupted or took a break away from writing. Soon, her focus vanished and boredom took over. She tried to read a book to review ideas but her brain won't cooperate. She groaned, her head and arms fell to the table again. The blonde saw but chose to ignore her.
She closed her eyes for a second, however, her gaze fell to the blank paper in front of her face. Her hands are itching to do something other than reviewing and writing, so she put down the pen she borrowed and took a pencil out of her pocket. She placed a pile of books near her notebook so that the male won't notice what she's doing. There, she started to sketch the base of the figure.
She would observe the four-eyed guy who's busy reading some sort of article while taking notes. He has a calm expression on his face rather than an irritated scowl or a mocking grin he usually has. He wears a long blazer and probably a long-sleeved shirt inside. His blonde hair is short yet the edges are a bit curly and his upper eyelashes are prominently long. This was the first time she stared at the jerk's face who she kept bumping into random places that irked the hell out of her, but for some reason, she felt that she had seen this person before the accident in the park, albeit she doesn't know where. (Y/N) came to a conclusion; he was a little good-looking.
The girl looked back to her drawing and shook her head at her own ideas. I can't believe I actually thought that this guy is handsome. How can such a mean creature be blessed with such looks?! Ugh, don't mind, (Y/N). I'm only drawing him because he seems like a great canvas subject, it's not like I haven't done this to other people before...
She went on drawing and drew details to the sketch similar to the boy in front of her. To make the drawing more accurate, she stole small glances at him. She kept things low key because it'll be another embarrassing event if he found out what she's doing. She made the lines smoother in one swift move. The hair and clothes' folds are already well-drawn while she focuses on the detail of his eyes and glasses. She was about to shade when the male finally caught her.
"What is it?" He questioned, closing his book with a low voice and creased eyebrows.
(Y/N) froze on the spot. As much as she doesn't like it, she maintained eye contact with him, thinking of the best alibi that he couldn't argue with. Then, she remembered that she doesn't know his name.
"Uhm... nothing. I was just wondering if you have a name." While talking, her finger subtly moved to grab the nearest object it could get to cover her drawing.
"I have, but why would I mention it to you?" He cooly replied.
"It's alright. I'm not asking you to. Unless you want to be referred to as he/him or the tall, blonde glasses guy all the time?" (Y/N) countered.
He silently turned a page before answering, "Well, it's not like we'll meet every day."
"Oh," was her only reply. Looks like he will stay a nameless guy in her head for a long time. She was about to get back to her business when he spoke.
"Tsukishima Kei."
(Y/N) looked at him in surprise. "I'm not going to repeat it." He added.
She smiled, having clearly heard it right away. "Can you tell me how it is written?"
He looked at her to check for ill intentions but found nothing in her eyes. He hesitantly wrote the characters of his name on a piece of paper.
"I'm (L/N) (Y/N), nice to meet you again, Tsukishima-san." She'd like to initiate a handshake for peacemaking, but she knows how he'd only decline it. She wrote her name for him to see as well.
Tsukishima Kei. She repeated in her mind. What a nice name.
With a notebook covering the upper portion of the paper where she had drawn his portrait, she wrote his name at the bottom. She proceeded to the shading and background features. Backgrounds are one of the things she hates in art because it takes too long to draw one compared to the subject itself. Luckily it's only a sketch so she won't have to suffer. Although she doesn't know if Tsukishima had seen whatever she's doing so she's still cautious. She peered at him for the nth time so she could distract his peripheral vision. Maybe to test the social initiative skills she hasn't used for a long time too.
"Uhh, can I ask something?" She started.
"Hm?" He responded without taking his eyes off the page.
"What school are you from?"
"Amemaru Middle School."
(Y/N) hummed, thinking of another question, "Then, what school are you enrolling to? It must be an upper class one since you had to read those large books and all."
"Not really," Tsukishima closed the book, "I plan to go to Karasuno High School. They may not have a difficult entrance exam, but these readings are for decent grades and some stock knowledge."
"Decent grades, huh... you look like you could achieve more though. I'm pretty sure you'll ace it." She answered, "I was from Kitagawa Dai Ichi. I'm taking an exam in Shiratorizawa soon."
"You're going to that high-class academy? I see, I failed to notice that because you don't look like one. Have fun clashing with other elites there."
"Elites? What are you talking about, you still believe there's such a hierarchy?" (Y/N) chuckled.
"There is though. A gap between them and mere humans in terms of skills and power."
"In the end, they're still humans though. Be it numbers, hard work, or some unique strategy, those 'mere humans' you say will always struggle to step on equal levels with those on the highest rank."
Tsukishima only hummed and stared down at her, "Perhaps I was wrong on assuming you're an elite. You're clearly not."
"Are you underestimating me?" She challenged.
"No, I was just saying. Can I ask something though?"
"What?"
"Why are you suddenly talkative?"
She was caught off guard but tried not to stutter, "Me? Talkative? I'm always like this."
"Really?" He raised his brows, totally not buying it.
"Ugh, fine! I'm tired of studying!" She sighed, "I was scribbling some doodles on my notebook because I'm bored so I thought it wouldn't hurt to talk to Mr. Beanpole in front of me. Forgive me and my awkward social skills."
"Your social skills are not bad. I'm just thankful you aren't using the precious ink of my pen for drawing." He said, stacking the books he used.
She gasped, panicked inside, "You aren't looking at my drawing, are you?"
He got up to return the books,"Don't worry, it's none of my business."
She exhaled in relief, spared from another memory of embarrassment. Her eyes followed his walking figure and watched his movements. She looked at her drawing to compare and used her fingers to define lighting. When Tsukishima got back and placed new reviewers on the table, (Y/N) asked him once more.
"Do you ever get tired of studying?"
"Sometimes I take a break, but I can only do that if I have finished everything."
"What a diligent student you are."
"I hardly see any benefit in being dumb and slacking off all the time."
"Eh, I hardly see any benefit in studying Algebra and Calculus. I have a lot of questions. Do you use derivatives in counting money or salary? Do you use trigonometry in dividing pizzas or corn chips? Why do I need to find the limit of a function if numbers are infinite? Why do I need to get the formula of a certain point in each line or curve I draw on the graphing paper? What is the correct answer for?" (Y/N) complained.
Tsukishima looked at her blankly, doubting her chances of passing the Shiratorizawa's board exam. "I couldn't argue with that, I'd rather read a book composed of words than formulas, but you don't have a choice. Although, if you plan to be an engineer or something, that'll be a different perspective."
"No, thanks, I won't eat math books for breakfast. Other subjects are interesting enough to keep me awake in class, but numbers don't really entertain me."
"Then, what do you do?" He asked, writing on his notes.
"Not much. I just draw, paint, listen to music, and watch anime."
He let out an amused hum, "How about you? What do you do other than to study?" (Y/N) asked.
"I play volleyball, listen to music, and read narrative books."
"Volleyball? So that's what your height is for! I thought it's just for cleaning and reaching high places."
"That's rude."
"If I am, what do you call yourself? Besides, I don't want to make wrong assumptions."
"You just did."
"...right. I'm sorry."
The sense of familiarity took over (Y/N)'s brain, telling her that she definitely had met this Tsukishima guy before. Her face scrunched a little, trying to search her memories and connect the dots. Her eyes found his face again.
"Why do you keep looking at me?" His eyes narrowed, his annoyance towards the girl slowly rising.
"I HAD met you somewhere... before that accident, where did I see you?"
He was about to say something when (Y/N) stopped him, "Shh, I'm thinking."
He crossed his arms and frowned at her. Volleyball, Amemaru MS... She was about to say it but Tsukishima spoke first.
"Were you one of the audience who watched the middle school volleyball inter-high a year ago?"
"I was! Wait, you remember?"
"That was the only place where I could find someone from Kitagawa Dai Ichi." He confirmed.
"Correct. I was a part of the school paper where I was assigned in the sports category. I took a picture of you when my senior was interviewing you! You were the tallest middle blocker in the games! How could I forget that! So that's why whenever you irk me, it was familiar!"
"How am I annoying you? Aren't you the one who kept on talking right now?"
"I've figured out that there's no kind bone in you. And the way you keep on stuffing the spikes from the opposite team. It was never-ending that they didn't have a chance to score properly." She pouted.
"What do you expect from a middle blocker? It was my job to block spikes."
"You could've gone easy on them."
"The game would lose it's sense if that's the case."
"Fine. You're not wrong." Their conversation was cut short after she ceased talking. At least she found out where she first met Tsukishima. She finished the portrait sketch. Grinning, she believed that she captured his features accurately in her drawing. She'd like to hold it near him and compare to make sure though. Satisfied with her work, she went back on turning pages.
"So, you've finally decided to continue to study?" Tsukishima prodded.
She smiled, "I guess. Thank you for talking to me. That was a great stop."
Both of them worked quietly, but now, the irritation they felt towards each other lessened. After some time, a person in the speaker announced that the library will be closing before 6 pm. Tsukishima returned all the books he borrowed and packed his things.
"You're going home?"
"I don't want to come home late. You aren't finished with your notes yet?"
"Yeah, maybe I'll leave five minutes before six."
"Alright. I'll get going now." He swung his bag over his shoulder.
"Hey, wait! Your pen!" (Y/N) abruptly remembered seconds after.
"I don't need it anymore. It was useful, apart from its close on running out of ink."
"But it's yours and you told me to keep my promise!"
"Whatever. Keep it or throw it." He walked out and wore his headphones, having no intention to listen to anyone.
She sighed and checked the ink. More than half of it is gone, but she can use it again if she wishes. (Y/N) placed her fist to her cheek while writing.
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Random Tsukishima Kei facts:
In the second prototype chapter (unserialized, one shot, the first idea of the author on how haikyuu will go) Tsukishima was a second-year, which was changed in the serialized version where he's a first-year. His initial height in the prototype chapter is 184cm, a little shorter than his official height (190.1cm). In an extra sketch, Furudate commented, "Tsukki and Tanaka being in the same year would spell chaos!
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