#it didn’t fucking feel good seeing that in my inbox! it was not pleasant! I am slightly upset!
Text
Ok real talk tho for a minute. I know we like to joke a lot about the izzy hate anons and make fun of them, because of course it’s a whole lot easier to laugh that stuff off instead of taking it to heart!! And I’m not saying that it’s not an effective way of dealing with it, I do my best to treat them that way too, but I also wanna like?? Take a second to just remind everyone that it’s ok if that shit gets to you??? And you should remember that it is in fact incredibly fucked up and shitty for people to be sending you those messages, especially like,, having seen some rlly rlly bad ones that have been sent to other people. Idk I don’t wanna make that big of a deal out of it but I’m honestly a pretty sensitive person, and sometimes it just feels like other ppl have a much easier time brushing off negativity and hate than I do, so I just wanted everyone to know that ur allowed to feel upset about that shit!!! It’s actually incredibly fucking exhausting to try and enjoy a character while ur being constantly exposed to hate towards that character or even being directly harassed yourself!! So yeah, take a moment if you need to, block anyone you feel like, and keep making whatever content you fuckin feel like :)
#like it’s kinda funny rn bc. I actually do feel kind of invigorated by that anon like I’m just buzzing to make some content out of spite#but on the other hand yknow.. as much as I enjoy making fun of those ppl it still fucking gets to me!#it didn’t fucking feel good seeing that in my inbox! it was not pleasant! I am slightly upset!#idk I’m probably just being overly serious rn but *imitating my mom* WE TALK ABOUT FEELINGS IN THIS FAMILY OKAY#YOUR FEELINGS ARE VALID
45 notes
·
View notes
Note
Alright for my witcher request here we are he, geralt, saves her from a robbery and then they kinda fall in love through the journey the rest is completley up to you only two little things if you may and if you like to do so, can it be a nsfw request and she can be a lorialet, pratically a moon creature born by a ray of moonlight, I hope you like it Have a nice day ^^
PAIRING: Geralt of Rivia x Fem!Reader
UNIVERSE: The Witcher
WORDS: 1.1ish K
SUMMARY/PROMPT: See above <3
TRIGGER WARNING(S): Smut | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this…
NOTE: Sorry if this isn't what you expected, I'm hoping this finds you well love!
IMAGE CREDIT: Google I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP OF THESE IMAGES. If these are yours or you know who the creator(s) is please INBOX me and let me know. Thank you.
My Master Masterlist | Henry Cavill Masterlist | Taglist
REQUESTS: 500 FOLLOWER EVENT REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN UNTIL AUGUST 15TH!
Day after day, you tried to figure out how to thank Geralt for saving you from the men who tried to rob the store you were in. You were just a wanderer, just passing through. You didn't know where you were going, let alone where you would end up. Everything seemed like such a mess until that night. Then it was all painted clear. It was the moment you looked up at him wrapped in his arms you felt right at home. It was like your stars had aligned.
He very reluctantly let you follow him on his journey to wherever the road takes him. Watching him fight creatures, tending to his wounds, and fighting to fall asleep. You cooked for him, washed his clothing while you could. He hunted while you cooked and gathered.
At first, he didn't want the company, he didn't need it, but over time he was thankful for the company, someone to talk to, someone to take care of him, someone to take care of. It was like having a journey wife without the attachments or complications. Admittingly, the company was pleasant, and you enjoyed every moment of it.
As time went on, you and Geralt grew closer. You got used to each other's banter. He got used to your moon gazing. He got used to traveling at night while you talk to the moon. You remember the conversation you had with him, the one where you had told him how you were born.
"A literally moon ray?"
"Yes, a literal moon ray. The moon is my mother, and my father."
"Your mother AND your father?"
"Yes."
"Uhuh."
Chuckling, you look at him as he stops to set up camp for the night. Getting off your horse, you tether her to a tree and help him get things situated for the night. You gather the wood for a fire and set it up so he can light it, and you collect a few things off of your horse. Looking up at him as he walks to the fire. Setting up two tents, you smile at him. Biting your lip, you let out a soft breath, thinking about him.
"What?" He asks.
"Nothing. Just watching you."
"Mmm." He grunts.
Shaking your head, you sit by the fire, looking up at the moon as you hand Geralt a loaf of bread. Taking a piece of your own, you pop it into your mouth, watching the sky. Geralt glances over at you, watching you. He smiles, looking over you as you pop another piece of bread into your mouth. He stops a moment and glances back up. He goes to his tent and watches you from a distance.
You stand up and begin to dance under the light of the moon. You move to a piece of land that was in front of a lake. As you dance, you sing to the moon softly. Hearing you, he peeks his head out of his tent and observes you. You make him wonder, you make him curious, you make him question so many things. You make him question love, life, and his own emotions.
As you dance, you slowly strip down, tilting his head and twisting his body to watch you- Geralt licks his lips. His eyes looking over your body as the moon bounces off your skin. You spin around- he watches as your breasts bounce. He adjusts his pants a bit, and he goes from observing you to intently watching you. Watching every bounce, every spin, every bit of you that the moon hits.
The more you move, the more your hands graze over your body, the more he falls for you, more than he already was. He was enthralled by you, the way you moved, the way you touched yourself, the way the light hit you. He quietly got up, stripped down, and made his way to you. Picking you up and carrying you into the water.
"Geralt!" You squeak.
"Shh." He tells you.
You look at him arching your brow and taking in a deep breath the moment your body touched that water. You screech and cling to him.
"Cold! Geralt! Cold!"
"Well, how about I warm you up?" He smirks, moving deeper into the water.
"Geralt, did you just suggest what I think you just suggested?" You arch your brow looking at him.
"If you have to ask, yes."
"First rule of survival." You chuckle.
"Which is?" He looks over your face.
"Naked and close Geralt... Have you seriously never heard of this?" You shake your head, chuckling.
"If I did, I wouldn't have to ask. What about friction? Is that in the rules?"
"Geralt, shut up." You state, leaning in and kissing him deeply, pressing your body against his.
He groaned against your lips, and with little to no effort, he pulled you closer to the tip of his thick cock and slid you down on top of it, using the water as easy guidance. You let out a soft whimper and grip around his cock tightly, your legs wrap around him, your hands grip into his shoulders, and you nip at his lip.
As he uses the water to guide you and you let out a soft moan with each thrust. Never feeling anything quite like him before, your breathing staggered, your groans pitched, your nails digging into his shoulders.
"You feel so good, Geralt... Better than I imagined."
"You've imagined?" He questioned.
"Shut up, Geralt." You state kissing him again to keep him quiet.
As he thrusts into you using your body and the water to guide you, he grunts and groans with you. Picking up the pace, your body shakes and trembles with so much want and need. You rest your forehead against his shoulder, and you help move with him, guiding him to that sweet spot. He lets out a groan as he grips at your ass tightly.
"Fuck." He groans.
"Indeed. Faster Geralt, faster." You pant.
As he starts to go faster, your moans echo off the water. You grip tightly at him before you begin to shake again, your lower muscles gripping around his thick member as you feel him press into you. You move your body in a way that makes your swollen bud rub against his body, causing some friction. You groan with him, and you hear his growl.
"Oh, Geralt! Oh, fuck!" You whimper.
Your moans picked up as you move faster with him. He guides you harder, slamming into you, the water rippling around you. You grip his shoulders tighter, and you begin to shake.
"I'm going to cum, Geralt!" you moan against his skin.
It didn't take very long before you both came together. You look over his face and kiss him deeply.
"Thank you, Geralt."
"You're welcome?" He asked.
You simply smile and walk out of the water to your tent after gathering your clothing. He watches you tilting his head, he stayed in the water a moment before he got out and followed suit. When he got to the tents he stopped and climbed into yours and laid behind you and pulled your hips closer. Biting your lip you press yourself against him and move him to rest between your legs as you start to move your hips.
"Again?" You asked.
"Mmm." He responds.
#geralt imagine#geralt headcanon#geralt x you#Geralt x reader#henry cavill#geralt smut#the witcher smut#geralt of rivia smut#geralt of rivia#the witcher#toss a coin to your witcher#Geralt Thirst#Geralt is a puppy#Geralt fluff#henry cavill witcher#geralt fanfic#witcher fanfiction#witcher smut#thirsty geralt readers#my stuff#my fanfic stuff#my writing#fanfics#my fanfiction#my post#my fanfic#fan fiction#tellingyouastory original#follower event
305 notes
·
View notes
Text
in which you and harry meet again after six months.
a/n: hiiii! this is for @theharriediaries fic challenge! the photo used is the one on the left of the banner, and the dialogue i chose was ‘Is this seat taken?’ ‘By you, I hope.’ & ‘I’m sorry it took us this long.’ thank you for creating this challenge, soph!
thank you @sunflowers-styles for beta reading this for me, mwah! <3
WORD COUNT: 12k of dad!harry with slight angst and fluff (pls appreciate the dilfrry dialogues in this lmao)
COME INTO MY INBOX AND LETS TALK ABOUT ‘THE TRAIN RIDE BACK TO US’ I’d love to know your thoughts!
pls rb to share! <3
The gold bell chimed quite loudly, informing the baristas that someone had entered their shop. The aroma of fresh ground coffee beans immediately filled your senses once you pushed open the sage green door as the smell feeling of nostalgia and comforted you.
Everything looked the same in the coffee shop. The oak wood floor never changed with coffee stains in certain areas that didn’t quite seem to come off all the way, no matter how hard the employees scrubbed—but it gave the shop character, in your opinion. Different colored potted plants filled the shop in every corner and on the clean white windowsill, making the place look lively. Crisp oxygen mixed with Columbian coffee beans flowed around the shop, making customers want to come back to a comfortable environment. Black and white bistro tables sat within the café, with silver metal bases, holding the circular table tops up as they alternated with colors along the built-in brown bench against the light-gray colored wall; with matching black and white metal chairs that practically screeched against the oak wood floors when someone was trying to scoot in or out of the table.
The entire shop was the exact same from what you remembered it to be six months ago. The only difference was that when you sat on the wooden bench, specifically at the black table in the corner that was right next to the window, the person who was supposed to be in front of you wouldn’t be there; and for that, your heart dropped a little.
Trying not to think too much about your change of mood, you ordered your usual—an iced mocha latte with a pump of sweet vanilla syrup—before you paid and turned around to see which tables were available. The usual corner table was staring right at you, practically mocking you, and you wished that the table was occupied, but then you would’ve felt wrong sitting at a different table when yours was clearly open.
You took your seat on the bench, and almost immediately, you started shaking your leg underneath the table. Your seat felt hot, as if the wood was catching fire underneath you, burning your legs and making you antsy.
Luckily, the shop wasn’t crowded so it took the baristas less than six minutes to make your drink and to call out your name from behind the counter. Quickly, standing up from the burning hot seat, you made your way to the counter, thanking Mel for the drink. Since coming here, you had become quite a constant in the cute Portland coffee shop. Mel was one of the employees that had worked at the shop the longest, so she made everyone’s drinks because she knew the menu the best. So, you caught up with her a bit, and inevitably, she asked where you had been.
“You didn’t find a better coffee shop did you?” She teased, making you chuckle.
“No, I’ve just been, uh, too busy to come around. But I promise, your drinks and shop are still the best,” you said truthfully, to which she beamed. To this day, you hadn’t found a superior coffee shop than ‘Coava’ because the others just didn’t compare—they didn’t make you feel the same way you did with this one. “But thanks for the coffee.” You gave her one last smile before you turned around to make your way back to your table.
And then the bell chimed.
It was as if the sun was peeking out through the clouds; the sun beams strongly pointed down onto the wet pavement after a night of rain, leaving the air with its pleasant smell of petrichor. He was the light that seeped through the curtains, and you knew it was going to be a lovely day.
“Harry…” you stopped in your tracks, careful not to spill the contents of your coffee cup. Your heart skipped several beats once he flashed you his gorgeous smile that you were still hopelessly in love with.
“Hi, Y/N.” Harry mindlessly played with the buttons of his coat as he mentally tried to situate the nerves in his head and stomach. His breath felt like it was stuck in his throat, making his voice slightly trail off with a crack to the tone.
It felt like the two of you were the only ones in the coffee shop—minus the locals who were sitting at the tables, minding their own business, or wondering what the fuck they were doing standing in the middle of the shop—completely and fully captured by the other’s stare and presence.
The loud screeching noise of steam took you out of your dazy trance as you cleared your throat. Harry looked down at his feet before looking up at you through his lashes, shyly intertwining his hands behind his back.
“Uh, would you like to join me?”
Harry raised his brows at your proposal, pursing his lips to contain his giddy excitement. “S-Sure.” You took a deep breath before you started to walk towards the table in the corner—one he was also very familiar with. “This seat...Is this seat taken?” He asked politely but, almost instantly, mentally cursed himself because you wouldn’t have invited him if you were with someone.
You didn’t catch his slip up, instead, you smiled as your face grew warm. “By you, I hope.” Harry blushed, taking a seat on the black metal chair across from you.
“So, how’ve you been? It’s been a while since I last saw you,” you mentioned.
It’d been six months since the last time you saw and sat in front of Harry—a very long six months. The conversation six months ago wasn’t the most happiest of memories because that conversation brought in the heartache and heartbreak; the chat had included the mutual separation of your relationship that involved tears, chest pain, and as always, the smell of Colombian coffee that surrounded your afflictive conversation, hoping it would calm the tension between you two.
“Yeah, it has been a while, but I’m doing okay. How are you?”
“I’m good.” There was a bit of awkwardness swirling in the air, and you absolutely despised it—you wanted it to leave the shop and never return. You had always imagined what it would be like bumping into Harry again, more importantly, what you would say to him. And despite all those moments daydreaming of finding the right words, you were completely stuck, and you fully blamed it on the awkward tension. “Can we not be…y’know, awkward? That’s not us,” you simply said.
Harry let out a sigh of relief, adding a breathy laugh. “Yes, yes, of course. You’re right, that isn’t us at all.” Mel brought him an iced black coffee since it was his usual, and she saw that he didn’t get the chance to order because he was immediately occupied by the sight of you. He softly thanked her with a smile, only taking his attention off of you for a split second before his eyes were right back on you; he didn’t know what this conversation would lead to, nor did he want to get his hopes up, so that meant spending every moment with his complete attention and eyes averted to you. “I miss you…” he said.
There was a sense of relief as you exhaled deeply, glad that he wasn’t the only one who was missing the other. His words had brought a flutter of butterflies to your stomach, soaring as they pleased while your face felt warm.
You and Harry had been together for a year and a half before calling it quits. For most of the relationship, it was happiness and bliss—occasional fights, but they weren’t frequent—towards the last few months however, things were getting a bit stressful. You remembered the days like it was yesterday as the vivid memory crept inside of your head...
It was nearing nine in the evening and the house was quiet. The silence was louder than the ongoing noise inside your head that was constantly yelling at you, making your head ache from the incessant thoughts. It was safe to say that you weren’t happy, and that even Harry wasn’t happy either. But you had only gotten a glimpse of him during the evening, so you were simply assuming that he wasn’t content—but it was a very logical assumption since every time he looked at you, it seemed like he was becoming more stressed out by the minute; as if he didn’t already have a lot on his plate during the day, and by night, he would still have to deal with whatever argument and fight either of you would pick for no apparent reason.
It started with petty little arguments, getting annoyed and frustrated at the other because of burnt toast or something as small as running out of detergent for the laundry. But fighting over nothing had turned into completely confessing that you weren’t happy anymore, and that the exhaustion had gotten to you.
“I-I don’t know if I can do this anymore, Harry,” you said in between your sobs that you tried to contain. “All we’re doing is hurting each other—we’re not even happy together anymore!”
It felt like his heart was exploding, but it was the truth. “Darling…”
“You can’t lie and tell me that we’re happy together because it’s obvious that we’re not.” You wiped the tears from your face, leaving your skin damp from the moisture.
Harry sighed deeply, knowing he couldn’t argue anymore. He felt defeated and upset with himself; it was like he was doing well in everything else or at least trying, and he couldn’t even do his part in being a good boyfriend to you. He knew part of the reason why both of you weren’t happy was because of the neglectance, and both of you were too exhausted to even communicate that feeling. You two were both independent entrepreneurs—always knowing when to close business and how to make a well deserved investment or sale with others who were trying to buy whatever stock or product. But when it came down to each other, to Y/N and Harry, it seemed like the individuals that were trying to please and charm others had dissipated, leaving no room or patience for each other.
“We’re both busy, Harry, I get that. And maybe it’s best if we call it quits until everything settles down—until we both know what we want—”
“I want you,” he interrupted.
You softly huffed, looking down at your lap as you slightly nodded before you looked up at him again. He had tears streaming down his face and more forming in his eyes; you loved that he wasn’t embarrassed or afraid to show his true emotions—he was being vulnerable every time he let his guard down, and for that, you would appreciate him forever.
Muffled, static cracks followed by quiet little groans were heard from the baby monitor on the coffee table. Harry glanced at it before looking back at you, knowing he had to take care of his number one priority, and who were you to stop him? So, you nodded, tilting your head towards the room, and he sadly smiled before heading towards the nursery.
You walked over to the kitchen counter, grabbed a pen and paper, and wrote ‘Meet me at Coava tomorrow. Usual time.’ before you placed it on the coffee table beside the monitor. As you were leaving, you heard soft humming coming from the baby monitor, and your heart squeezed, frowning as this was most likely going to be the last time you were going to be in this house. Taking one look around, you took in all of the memories that you made in the building that made you feel safe and warm before you stepped out, immediately welcomed by the cool temperatures of the evening.
The next afternoon when you walked into Coava, Harry was already sitting at the usual table you two sat at. His head was down, mindlessly wiping down the condensation that formed outside of his glass. You took a seat in front of him without saying a word, making him look up. He had dark circles around eyes as he hadn’t gotten much sleep.
“Hi,” you whispered. There was your usual cup of iced coffee placed in front of you. “Thank you for the coffee.”
He nodded and smiled softly, despite his current mood. “Hello.”
You took a deep breath. “So…where do we go from here?”
Harry sadly looked at you with desperation in his eyes that spoke, no, begged you to tell him to stay, to tell him that you two could and would work this out. But it seemed like you hadn’t received that specific message from his green and sorrowful eyes.
“You were right…We haven’t been able to make time for one another. So, we’ll just…take some time apart.” His heart and voice cracked at the end of his sentence, finding it hard to even form a sentence that didn’t absolutely break him. You nodded, agreeing, but it didn’t hurt any less; you knew this would be best for the two of you because both of you had to focus on yourselves, especially when Harry had his priorities, such as his family, which you weren’t going to make him change whatsoever. “Okay…so, we’re over.” He hadn’t said it as a question but rather a way to see that realization.
You reached across the table, placing your hand on his, and you were lucky that he didn’t pull away. “Harry, this doesn’t mean that I don’t love you. I…will always love you.”
“And I’ll always love you too,” he said honestly.
Behind the civil and mature conversation that occurred, there was sadness and heartbreak. There were no more smiles or laughs, no more love and affection, or anymore meet-ups during lunch or coffee dates during breaks. The painful look on Harry’s face had only pained you even more, but you both knew this split-up and time apart was for the best.
That was six months ago.
Now, as you sat across Harry, you felt an overwhelming rush of relief and joy; he just looked happier and you saw a familiar glint in his eyes as he looked at you. It may not be the same sparkle of love as it once was, which you were afraid it wasn’t, but there was still some kind of sparkle—the kind someone would give when they reunite with an old friend.
“The kids miss you—they miss you a lot.”
Your eyes look at him fondly at the mention of his children. “Really?”
“Yeah, they do. They said, and I quote, they miss their ‘pretty fairy second mom,’” Harry said quite proudly.
Harry had three kids that you absolutely adored. There was Mira and Estelle, seven-year-old twins that looked like their father. Mira was very energetic and talkative—that little girl could talk for hours on end without missing a beat; Estelle was more quiet and reserved, but once you started hanging around, she opened up and was quite fun to have a laugh with. Then there was the sweet little two-year-old boy, Rory, who resembled his mother. He was always babbling and giggling, so happy and free.
If Harry was being honest, Rory was a complete accident. Him and his ex had separated and broken up when the twins were four, but they were still seeing each other. Those occasional hangouts led to another child, which they both thought would help them bond, but six months into the pregnancy, they both knew it wasn’t right anymore—not like before. So, they stuck to coparenting and, if they were speaking the truth, it was much better than being together.
When Rory was six months old, that was when Harry met you. On an unexpected literal run in the park when you and Harry were on your daily runs, the trail was only narrow and small enough for one person to run. So, when you and Harry were running towards each other, you braced yourself for the awkwardness you were about to face with the man. Harry politely smiled, moving to his left, only for you to move to your right, which made you both giggle. The two of you then moved to the opposite side, only to clash again. The thought was quite hilarious to the two of you, so you both started laughing, clutching your stomachs. Once you two calmed down, Harry then said that he was going to his left, so you moved to your left, running the opposite directions from each other.
At the end of the trail and on your way to the parking lot, you saw Harry finish the same trail but exit from the other side. And if it said anything more, you parked right next to his car as well. Harry smiled, dimples flashing and asked you how your run was, which then led to a bit of small talk. In the six minutes you two were talking, Harry made the impulsive decision to ask you if you would like some coffee. He wouldn’t have asked if it were anyone else, and until that moment he didn’t even know if he was ready to date again. But he took the chance and decided to ask you, and luckily, you said yes.
The rest was history.
“I miss them so much too.” You smiled softly, thinking about the kids that you had thought of as your own.
“I, uh, I know it’s too much to ask, but I figured I should ask either way…Would you like to see them? Mira would never live it down if I told them that I saw you and didn’t ask if you wanted to see them.” He added a chuckle at the end, nerves creeping up his skin.
Your eyes lit up. “Really? You’d let me see them?”
Harry raised his brows. “Yeah, of course! You could see them anytime you want, if you’d like. Just because we’re not, y’know, together doesn’t mean that you can’t see them. I know how much you love them and how much they love you too,” he reassured.
“Would Laurie be okay with that?” You asked about his ex and the mother of said children.
He nodded. “Yeah, she would. I mean, she also knows how much they love you.” Harry was lucky that the mother of his children and his ex was so kind and chill with having someone that Harry loved be ‘another mother’ to her children; all Laurie really asked of you was to not try and replace her role as their mom and to always keep them safe when she wasn’t around, and who were you to disrespect her wishes?
“Harry, I would love to, thank you. I really do miss them.” You felt yourself getting a bit emotional because of how much you missed the kids, and it’d felt like an eternity since you last saw them.
“Great! Tomorrow is the weekend, so are you free to go to the park and maybe get some ice cream after?”
“Yeah, that sounds like a plan.” You smiled, not too widely as you tried to contain your excitement.
Harry smiled back at you before quickly looking at his phone to check the time. “I gotta get back. But I’ll see you tomorrow and will text you the details tonight.”
“Okay, see you soon.” You stood up to hug him, and his arm immediately wrapped around your waist, hugging you to his chest. His stomach was doing flips as he felt your breath against the crook of his neck. He didn’t want the moment to end, and it was the most physical contact that you two had in six months.
Pulling away, he offered you a smile before bidding you goodbye, and you finally let out the breath you had been holding the moment the bell chimed and the man you still loved walked in.
A soft blush was planted on Harry’s cheeks for the entire day. He was driving from work to Laurie’s house to pick up his beloved children as he thought about how his day turned out to be.
In all honesty, he hadn’t expected to see you in the coffee shop that you two had gone to throughout the entirety of your relationship. He had just gotten out of a meeting and was debating on going to Coava because he hadn’t been there since the day you two called it quits, but he figured it was time and thought that maybe reminiscing on the memories you two had with each other wasn’t a bad thing. So, he walked into that shop thinking he was just going to get a coffee to-go, but he had gone in there and left with something so much better.
The moment his eyes landed on yours his mind had screamed and reassured him that he wasn’t just dreaming that you were standing right in front of him, he felt his stomach drop in the best way. The heat had rushed to his cheeks, tugging on the corners of his lips, urging his mouth to smile, and he did not hold back his joy when he saw you. You were beautiful, just like he remembered, but he had no doubt that there wasn’t a day that went by where you weren’t not absolutely stunning.
And the giddy feeling he felt when he asked you if you’d like to see the kids made his heart tumble inside of his chest as he couldn’t wait for you and the kids to finally see each other again.
Harry pulled into Laurie’s driveway, and he quickly got out and knocked on the door, waiting for Laurie to answer. He chuckled as he could practically hear the twins screaming from across the house to make sure they had everything they needed. When the door opened, he was met by his ex that he once loved, and still had some platonic love for her, naturally, as the mother of his children.
“Hey, Harry! They’re just getting their stuff ready,” she greeted with a smile, opening the door wider as she walked away from the entrance and let him in. She grabbed Rory from the couch, who was mindlessly playing with a giant puzzle piece, and gave him many kisses to his cheeks before saying goodbye to her son and handing him off to Harry.
Rory’s eyes lightened up at the sight of his father. “Dada!”
“Hi, my sweet boy. I’ve missed you.” He placed soft kisses to his chubby and squeezable cheeks.
“Girls, dad’s waiting!” Laurie called out from the bottom of the stairway before turning back towards Harry. “Why do you look like that?” She gave him a knowing look.
“Like what?” Harry asked, acting like he didn’t know what she was talking about. The blush really gave him away, he thought.
“You’re just…extra happy today.”
“Can’t I be happy, Laurie? To see my kids?” He teased, smirking as he hugged Rory to his chest.
“I mean, sure, but…did something happen today?”
His smile widened, and it was like he couldn’t contain the exciting feeling anymore and he just had to tell someone. “I saw Y/N today.”
Her brows raised. “Really? How is she?”
“She’s doing well, yeah. We talked for a little bit.” Was all that he told her.
“And I’m assuming it went well.” He nodded, not wanting to tell her more. “Well, that’s great, Harry. She was, is, a lovely woman and she took care of the kids, so that’s all that matters to me,” Laurie said genuinely; she wasn’t jealous, if she was being honest. All that mattered to her was that her kids were in good hands.
Suddenly more footsteps were coming down the stairs. “Dad!” The twins yelled at the same time. He put Rory down for a moment before he bent down to hug his two girls.
“Hi, my loves. How are you?” He kissed both of their cheeks, making their small arms hug him tighter.
“Dad, I scored one hundred percent on all my spelling tests, so I’m qualified for the spelling bee!” Mira explained excitedly once she let go of Harry.
“Really?! That’s amazing, bug. This week, I’ll help you study for it.” Mira beamed at that before walking over to her mom to say bye.
“How are you, my sunshine?” He directly asked Estelle, knowing that she was specifically waiting for Harry to have his attention on only her. Even though she’d never told him that, he could tell that sometimes Estelle lets Mira have her moment and wanted to speak with Harry when no one else was paying attention.
“I’m good. My teacher told me I could become a math…mathmat—daddy, what are they called?” She looked at Harry for help.
“Look at you, sunshine! I’m so proud of you my little mathematician.” Estelle’s eyes widened. “Is that you meant mathematician, sweetheart?” He smiled.
“Yes, that! I did good on my math test and even baked cookies for you!” Before Harry could say anything, Estelle ran off to the kitchen to grab the plate of cookies she baked last night.
“Alright, babies, let’s go. Say bye to mommy.” The kids said their goodbyes before Harry safely buckled them into their car seats and drove home for a week at their father’s.
When all four of them reached the front door, Harry told the twins to put their belongings away and wash up for dinner. He set Rory down in his high chair before cutting up some bananas in halves, and placing them on the plastic table in front of him for his pre-dinner snack. Knowing that his kids liked home cooked meals better than takeout, fortunately, he set out the ingredients to make some fried rice, which was quick and easy.
The twins rushed down the stairs once Harry put the leftover rice into the pan filled with sautéed veggies, and they settled onto the couch in front of the TV, waiting for dinner.
“Loves, set the table for me, please!” He called out from the kitchen as he transferred the rice from the pan to a large bowl, topping it with green onions. The girls each had a task for setting the table; Mira was in charge of forks and spoons, and Estelle handled the plates since she was less clums. He rolled Rory’s high chair over to the table, which he was so lucky to have gotten a high chair with wheels because it was so much easier to move him without carrying him and the chair; and he gave everyone an equal scoop, depending on how much they ate, and if they wanted seconds, he would be glad to serve them more.
As they ate, Harry was occasionally helping Rory eat the rice, just picking up the contents that didn’t make it into his mouth, as Estelle and Mira both took turns talking. Harry loved family dinner, he tried his very best to give all three of his children the attention that they deserved, but dinner was the one time they bonded the most because no one felt competitive or had the urge to start an argument when there was food in front of them.
“Daddy, how was your day?” Estelle asked curiously, and Harry smiled at his sunshine, as if she was the sun itself, heart swooning.
“It was great, thanks for asking, my love.” He placed his spoon on his plate. “I actually wanted to talk to you all about something.” The twins didn’t respond, just stared at him, encouraging him to continue. “Do you remember Y/N?” Just at the sound of your name, the crowd went absolutely wild.
“Y/N, yes!” Screamed Estelle, which was rare for her to raise her voice.
“Pretty, fairy second mom, of course we remember her, dad!” Mira exclaimed obviously.
“Fairy!” Rory had repeated the only word he could make out from Mira’s mouth as he fussed because of the volume that had increased from his sisters.
Harry laughed. “Alright, okay, settle down. Well, I saw her today.” The twins gasped, making him chuckle. It genuinely felt like he was on a talk show with a live audience. “And I wanted to ask you all if you wanted to see her tomorrow? Figured we could go to the park and get some ice cream together?” He asked hesitantly, even though he knew they’d say yes, and he’d get another chance to see you again.
“Yes!” The girls both answered.
Harry beamed, turning to Rory. “Bubba, remember Y/N? Your slide friend? Remember you used to go on the slide with Y/N?” Rory giggled, a sound that was Harry’s weakness, and nodded. “Do you wanna see her tomorrow?”
“Slide with fairy?” Rory asked, and Harry laughed.
“Yes, slide with fairy,” he confirmed, and Rory nodded his head eagerly.
Harry smiled, glad his kids were with the plans tomorrow. The rest of the dinner was filled with the twins talking about you; they talked about what you all could do together at the park and what they wanted to show you, and Harry would be lucky if they slept through the entire night without continuously waking up because of their excitement for the upcoming afternoon.
Once everything was cleaned up and put away, the twins washed and cleaned, Harry give Rory a bath, and everyone was ready for bed, Harry said good night to his babies, spending about five minutes cuddling and talking them to sleep until they fluttered their eyes closed and off to slumber.
Sighing, Harry closed his door, leaving the baby monitor from Rory’s room on his bedside table before he was able to unwind for the day. He always spent an extra amount of time on his skin care routine, figuring that he sometimes didn’t have time for himself and the only time he had was during nights.
When he was ready for bed, he felt a huge amount of relief to be getting into bed after a long but grateful day, and he picked up his phone and clicked on your message thread. The last time you two texted was a few weeks after the breakup, asking if you were doing okay, and he could practically feel the awkward tension through the texts as he reread them. But he was glad that this time would be a much lighter and better conversation.
Hi, Y/N. Hope this is the right number still. But if it is, kids are on board for tomorrow. Does 12:30 work for you? We could meet at the usual park. If it’s not Y/N, please don’t meet at the usual park because the kids are not on board.
You chuckled at the end of his text, happy to see that Harry is always trying to make jokes and be the comedian.
Hi, Harry! Don’t worry, this is Y/N. Probably would have hunted the person with my number down to get tomorrow’s plans. But that sounds perfect! I can't wait to see the kids tomorrow. See you then!
Harry softly smiled at his phone, not feeling the need to respond and figured he would talk to you a lot more tomorrow while the kids are playing. He stared at the message for quite some time, completely blank as he couldn’t believe the chances that he happened to see you at the shop six months after the breakup, and now he’s making plans with you tomorrow; his jaw was aching from smiling so much.
A few minutes later, he put his phone away to change before he comfortably situated himself under the blanket, feeling the heaviness of his eyes. But once he felt himself starting to drift away into dreamland, his phone buzzed on his nightstand, and he tried his best to ignore it, but curiosity got the best of him, so he picked up his phone and opened the new message.
And I can’t wait to see you tomorrow too.
And just like that, Harry was wide awake, struggling to sleep, but a smile permanently etched on his face for the night.
The day that everyone in the Styles’ household had been waiting for had finally arrived. Luckily, the kids had gotten their needed hours of sleep; Harry had only gotten a few hours of sleep, but when the sun seeped through his curtains, he didn’t dread getting up for the day. Instead, he felt a rush of eagerness, instantly remembering what the day held for him and his kids, and he jumped right out of bed.
Once the four of them were out of the house, Harry had successfully fed, cleaned, and changed his children with no complaints. The house and car ride was filled with conversations about how excited they were to see you again, asking how many more hours there was until they got to see you and if they were almost at the park.
Screams bounced off the roof of the car once Harry parked on the side of the curb; the twins had already taken their seatbelts off, getting antsy as they waited for their dad to open the car from the outside. Harry unbuckled Rory, carrying him until he rounded on the other side of the car to open the door for the twins. They quickly jumped out, clearly excited, but Harry did not forget to remind them that this was still a public area and anything could happen.
“Girls, slow down, please.” Estelle was holding Harry’s hand as Mira was holding her sister’s; Harry was still carrying Rory in his arms because his sister’s were practically lugging Harry with all their might, trying to get to their usual spot, so he didn’t want Rory to get hurt. “Loves, you know Y/N would tell you the exact same thing. Please, just slow down for me.” He pulled the Y/N card on them, knowing that they were better listeners with you than they are with him.
Once they were all close enough, they spotted a thick beige blanket under the tree with a picnic basket, and you sitting on top of it, setting everything up.
“Y/N!” The girls both screamed, Estelle letting go of Harry’s hand as they both ran towards you.
You looked up at the sound of your name, eyes brightening at the little girls running. “My Princesses! Hi, my loves!” You opened your arms widely, inviting the twins into your arms— they practically collided into your arms, making you fall onto your back since you didn’t get the chance to stand up—and embracing them with a big hug. Laughs came out of all of your mouths as wide smiles permanently stayed on your faces. “Oh, I missed you two so much!” You kissed both of their cheeks, making them giggle. You stood up, helping the girls up and brushed their clothes off with your hand from the grass. Harry and Rory were in sight, and Harry put the little boy down, making Rory run towards you. “My sweetheart, oh, you’ve gotten so big.” You hugged Rory to your chest, placing your hand behind his head as your other arm wrapped around his small body.
You were glad that Rory still had some memory of you, and didn’t shy away behind his father’s leg. You placed soft kisses on his cheeks, taking in his baby scent that you always loved.
After Rory was starting to fuss in your arms, most likely due to feeling overwhelmed from the lack of space, you let go of him before standing up.
“Hi, Y/N,” Harry greeted, offering a hug, which you gladly took.
You rubbed his back. “Hi, Harry. I’m so glad I’m here with you all.” You pulled away, smiling at him. Harry’s heart pounded against his chest at the sight of you smiling up at him. His heart did a backflip at the sight of your gorgeous smile, trickling all the way down to his stomach where it triggered the butterflies to release from the net.
“Please, we were all really excited to see you. So, thank you for agreeing.” His hand innocently ran down your arm, sending shivers down your spine.
You turned around to look at the kids who were making themselves comfortable on the blanket. You and Harry joined them as you sat in between Estelle and Rory, and Harry sat in between Mira and Rory.
“Okay, so I made some sandwiches. You all still like grilled cheese, right?” You hoped, and the twins nodded; you turned towards Rory. “What about you, sweet pea? Grilled cheese?” At the sound of cheese, Rory nodded his head and clapped his hands, making you smile.
Harry was so lost in his mind and heart that he was simply so distracted in helping you out as you unwrapped the sandwiches from the foil, putting them on a paper plate. He was just so fond of watching you interact with his children so naturally, like there was no time that was wasted when you and Harry were apart. And he was especially happy that the kids still loved you just as much as they did when you two were together; and how they still kept talking about you despite the breakup.
Aside from you and Harry, the kids had taken the breakup the hardest. From the knowledge they had based on what Harry and Laurie told them, they understood that their mommy and daddy couldn’t be together anymore due to adult reasons; it took them a while to adjust to that, but they eventually managed and figured it was better and more fun. But when Harry had to break the news on why they wouldn’t be seeing their ‘Pretty Fairy Second Mom’ anymore, they took it harder than expected. They simply looked at it as you didn’t want to see them anymore, which wasn’t the case at all, Harry explained.
“Sometimes adults need to take some time apart, loves. That does not mean that Y/N doesn’t love you anymore because she does very much, I can tell you that. But it's good to have some time to yourself, especially in a relationship.”
“But daddy, I thought you were gonna be together forever with Y/N,” Estelle spoke up, tears in her eyes. He was lucky that his kids loved you so much, and he never doubted that they weren’t going to. But his fear had come true when you two called it quits and he had to tell them the truth.
“And maybe we will, but as for right now, it’s best to be apart. Sometimes being apart saves the relationship rather than letting it burn,” he told them honestly, which was the best as he could explain it.
“D-Does Y/N still love you?” Mira asked softly. It wasn’t like Mira to be so soft spoken, which meant that the breakup had affected her deeply.
Harry sighed, grabbing both of their small hands. “She does,” he replied for the sake of more tears coming out of their eyes—plus, he was taking your word for it back at the cafe. “And she also loves you all so much too,” he reminded them again. What he really wanted to say was that maybe one day you two will get back together, but he really didn’t want to get their hopes up.
Looking back on his conversation from half a year ago, he was glad that he told them the truth on why you two broke up. He didn’t want to confuse his children even further, making them completely oblivious to the situation—he just wanted to be honest with them because he hoped you two would meet again and get back together at some point.
“Harry, would you like one?” You asked, bringing Harry back out of his thoughts. He smiled, nodding, not trusting his voice to speak; and you gladly handed him a plate with a sandwich, pouring some chips onto the side—his favorite chips, you still remembered.
“Thank you.” He smiled softly. The corners of your lips turned up as you bashfully looked at the picnic basket in front of you. You placed Rory’s plate in front of him as he seemed to have crawled to sit closer to you, and you cut out his sandwich into small pieces, along with cutting his grapes in half. “Oh, you don’t have to do that.” He stopped you from what you were doing, ready to take Rory from your side as he didn’t want you to feel obligated to take care of him.
“Oh, if you don’t want me to, that’s fine. But I wouldn’t mind feeding him a bit.”
“If you want to.”
You gave him the sweetest grin, and Harry was lucky to be sitting down because his knees would give out on him if he were standing. “I want to.” He only nodded, a crimson color laid on his cheeks.
Harry comfortably watched as you made conversation with the twins as you fed Rory. You always gave them your undivided attention; your expression always lit up everytime they talked about something they were passionate about or interested in, and it just made Harry fall even more with how you were always so supportive in what his kids loved. You were always uplifting them, never dragging their hopes and dreams down.
After everyone was finished with their meals and had time to digest their food, the twins asked if they could go on the swings and Harry said yes. The tree that they were under was only a few feet away, so Harry had a clear view of his girls.
“You’re, like, a magician.” Harry suddenly said, breaking the silence once the girls were safely on the swing.
You chuckled. “How’s that?”
“It’s like hiring a magician at a party—everyone is so excited to see what they do and see them in general—you’re like that; the girls and Rory were so excited to see you.”
You playfully gasped, holding Rory to your chest. “You were excited to see me? Well, I was excited to see you!” You booped his nose, making Rory giggle.
“Fairy!” He exclaimed, and you and Harry laughed. Rory was a quiet two-year-old, but he picked up on keywords that he repeatedly said.
“So, are you seeing anyone?” You cut to the chase, skipping the small talk.
Harry chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Nope. Not entirely sure if anyone wants to date a thirty-four-year-old with three kids.”
You raised your brows in shock, and he knew that look you’re giving him very well—prepared to tease him; even though you weren’t that much younger than him either. “What? Do you think no one wants to date a hot dad? Harry, you’re peak-dilf, everyone wants to date you.”
“And what about you? Do you wanna date me? A dilf?” He teased; a smirk that you knew all too well appeared on his face, making you want to kiss it off, which was what you used to do.
Pursing your lips and cheeks heating up, you gave him an obvious look before you said, “Think you know the answer to that one, baby.” In all honesty, the pet name had slipped, and for a brief moment your eyes widened at the realization, but you brushed it off and continued with your confident and teasing attitude; and it worked quite well on Harry because he definitely heard what you used to call him loud and clear. It made his heart flutter as he missed you calling him that; he never wanted to hear that name come out of anyone else’s mouth because only yours would do it justice.
Harry was left to ponder about your response before you changed the subject, talking to Rory. “Sweets, do you wanna go on the slide?” The little boy jumped up and down, pulling your arm as he had a big smile on his face. You looked at Harry, and he gave you a nod, telling you that he would stay put and watch your belongings.
You and Rory walked hand in hand, or more like hand and finger, to the slide. It was an open purple slide with two sides, and it lasted about two seconds if you slid correctly and if the slide was slippery enough. You helped Rory step onto the playground as the dull metal steps were quite high for him to reach on his own before you guided him towards the slide.
Sitting down at the top and on the edge of the slide, you carried Rory into your lap, hyping him up for what he had been waiting for. “Ready, sweets? Are you ready?” Your tone was pure excitement as you squeezed and tickled his belly.
“Go, Y/N, go!” Directed Rory, and you scooted forward and held onto the sweet boy in your arms tightly as you two slid down the slide. Mouthfuls of squealing screams and giggles came from Rory’s mouth as he clapped his hands towards the end of the slide, causing you to cheer as well.
And the proper dad that he was, Harry clicked the red button on the screen to stop recording you and Rory from the slide. He zoomed in, capturing the bright smiles placed on his sweet boy’s and the love of his life’s face, screenshotting the perfect frame. He didn’t think the day could have gone any better than this; it was quite the perfect day, he thought.
When it was rounding two in the afternoon, Rory’s eyes were starting to droop, exhaustion taking over him from running around for almost an hour that his little body couldn’t keep up, so a nap was in his favor. He lazily looked up at you, reaching his arms up for you to carry him, which you happily held him. He settled his head on your shoulder, and it only took a few kisses and back rubs for him to be out like a light while the sun still shined in his face.
You walked over to the blanket, figuring it was time to call it a day at the park; Harry and the twins were running around nearby on the bedded grass area playing tag. They retreated to the blanket once they saw you with Rory in your arms, breaths heavy from their run.
“Oh, my sweet, sweet boy.” Harry sighed when he got to spot under the tree; you handed Rory to him, admiring the two boys cuddling as Harry pressed quiet and soft kisses to his son’s head. Since your lap was available, Estelle and Mira took the chance to finally be able to properly cuddle you since Rory was taking most of your attention. The girls took one leg each, and you wrapped your arms around their waist, kissing their shoulder.
The five of you stayed put for a while, calming down under the breezy weather that had started to pick up until it got even colder was when Harry decided it was time to leave. Luckily the girls were still awake to help with cleaning up, and were rather helpful because Harry was trying his best with Rory situated on one side of his body.
Once all of you were next to your cars, Harry placed Rory in his car seat as you were hugging the girls goodbye. You and Harry agreed that everyone was too tired to go out for some ice cream since all the twins wanted to do was lie down. Harry knew he didn’t want the day to end, even though it was still quite early, but the older he got, the tougher it was to keep up with his little children who just loved running around; a relaxing and peaceful night was calling him.
“Hey.” Harry closed the passenger door before he rounded the car to meet you on the grass. “I know we talked about going for ice cream today, but it seemed like we’re all too tired, but I was wondering…” he paused for a moment, a bit of hesitancy in his voice. “Would you like to come over? Maybe…for dinner, or to have a glass or w-water?” He scratched the back of his neck, nerves getting the best of him.
You smiled, thinking he was the absolute cutest when he was flustered. “Harry, I’d love to. Feels like I haven’t drank any water so I’m parched,” you teased.
He breathed out a laugh. “Okay, uh, I’ll see you home.” He gave you another smile before walking away and inside of his car, completely unaware of his choice of words.
Home. More specifically, Harry’s home. It was a place that made you feel safe, and if you’re being honest, it’s been too long since you’d had complete solace.
Your mental pep-talk throughout the drive toward Harry’s had helped in some way. Keeping it simple without driving your mind into overthinking every single thought, you laid it all down as if you were planning and preparing a business proposal.
You didn’t want to dive deep into what Harry’s invitation could entail—more like you didn’t want to get your hopes up on if you two were to get back together because the potential rejection you could face would absolutely crush you. Harry’s a kind and sweet guy, he’s simply inviting a friend over for a drink and dinner, if you could even call yourself that. Plus, it was still early to fully call it a day, and he planned for ice cream after the park, so he was fulfilling that promise of sweet dessert.
Without realizing, you’d been sitting in your car for a solid five minutes, staring over your steering wheel as you were parked on the curb in front of Harry’s house. Harry’s car was already in the driveway, so they were just waiting on you.
You walked towards the front door, and it swung open before you even got the chance to knock.
“Hey, thought you’d change your mind when you weren’t getting out of the car,” Harry joked, although that thought really crossed his mind when he peeked out through the window and saw you still in your car.
You chuckled nervously. “Oh, no. I wouldn’t.” You stepped inside his house, and a wave of nostalgia rushed through you as if you were at the beach and the harsh current knocked you over as you were trying to walk against the sandy wind.
Everything still looked the same—the same since the night you left without another word to the kids, just a note to Harry telling you to meet at the shop. A pinch of guilt appeared in your face as you frowned, and Harry immediately took notice, but you waved it off as you slightly smiled, telling him that you two would talk later. He didn’t press any further, waiting until later or when you were ready. Instead, he asked if you wanted anything to drink, to which he already knew you’d go for a class of Cabernet, and luckily, he had some in stock—more like, he still had the untouched bottle for when you stayed over.
The two of you leaned against the cold granite counter as music softly played on the speaker that was connected through Bluetooth on his phone. Conversations were light, but it wasn’t awkward in any sense. As a matter of fact, it felt just like old times when you would stay over his house, talking about each other’s day and simply enjoying the presence of one another. That’s what you think this was, you thought—enjoying the fact that Harry was in front of you after so many months and you were cherishing it until the next set of months went by.
After a few conversations and sips of wine later, the time had gone by fairly fast, which always happened when you were with him, and it was nearing five. The kids had woken up from their nap at four and quietly settled in the living room—the twins on the couch in front of the television and Rory was on the padded mat playing with his toys, occasionally talking to his sisters. Harry asked if you would be okay watching them so he could make dinner, and you were close to reminding him that he didn’t need to ask to watch his kids, but then again, you had to remind yourself that things were a bit different now. So, you said that you didn’t mind and walked over to the sofa chair next to the couch and watched TV with the girls as well as play with Rory.
Twenty-five minutes had gone by and Harry called everyone, announcing that dinner was ready. You all walked into the dining room, taking your seats. Your assigned seat was next to Rory’s chair, which was in between you and Harry; the girls were sitting across from you. Once everyone took several bites of Harry’s dinner--a quick fettuccine alfredo--the chatter was back. You enthusiastically listened to the girls and Rory talk; it made Harry smile, loving how natural everything felt.
Estelle tapped Harry’s shoulder, making him turn towards her with a smile on his face. “What is it, sunshine?” She got off her chair, leaning over to whisper something into his ear and he smiled, turning back to his family who was curious as to what Estelle had said. “Go ahead and ask her, love.”
You put down your fork and placed your arms on the table. “What’s up, Princess?”
“Uh, c-can we go to that place?”
“What place is that?” You asked curiously.
“That place where you told Daddy you loved him,” she responded quite bashfully. Your mouth was slightly open, not expecting her to say what she did. Looking over at Harry, he simply had a soft smile on his face with his brows raised, shrugging his shoulders.
Did you want to go back there? The answer was a simple yes. There wasn’t any excuse that you could possibly make up on the spot as to why you couldn’t go there, and it wasn’t necessarily a bad place whenever you thought about it. In fact, you really missed going over there and you would be lying if you said that you didn’t think about that place often.
Your head turned towards Estelle. “Sure, why not. How about we go tomorrow?” You asked everyone, and they all had smiles on their faces. You looked at Harry, directly asking him for permission. “Is that okay?” His elbow was resting against the arm of the brown chair, fingers placed under his lips as he slightly puckered his soft and pink lips; without looking under the table, you knew his legs were crossed. Harry smiled, nodding his head, and everyone cheered.
The rest of the time everyone was sitting at the dinner table, you all talked about plans for tomorrow, and everyone was really excited. Once it was almost eight, Harry realized that it was almost their bedtime, so he hurried them up the stairs to get ready for bed before saying goodnight to you, getting in as many hugs and kisses as they could get.
Harry was upstairs, changing Rory and putting him to bed before he walked down and found you in the kitchen washing dishes. He slipped past you, placing his hand along your lower back briefly before he grabbed the dish rag. The action sent a chill down your spine and you immediately missed his hands on you.
“The kids seem really excited about tomorrow.” Harry broke the silence, glancing over at you as you continued to wash the dishes.
You nodded. “Yeah, I’m really excited too.”
Harry noticed the slight shortness, and he thought it may be because you were tired. “Hey, are you okay?”
You turned off the water and faced him, crossing your arms as he did the same.
“Do the kids hate me?” The corner of his lips turned up before he started laughing, clutching his stomach. If it were any other time, you would obsess over his laugh; it was music to your ears, the highlight of your day, and the sun when it’s bright out. You softly slapped his arm. “Harry! I’m being serious!”
“Darling, you’re joking, right?” Your heart briefly fluttered at his nickname for you. “Those kids love you!” He noticed your change of attitude and that you’d been thinking about this for a while and beating yourself up over it.
“It’s just…I don’t want them to think that we broke up and I forgot about them. I mean I understand if they see it that way because I left without saying another word for six months--didn’t even get to say goodbye to them and have a proper talk. I just don’t want them to hate me.” You looked down at your feet as you played with the thin silver band on your middle finger.
Harry’s seen you in work mode, and it reeks confidence and power. You don’t need much reassurance during work unless it’s when your employees tell you that progress is moving along. But this was completely different; you needed all the reassurance that you could get to get it through your head that the kids that you’d come to love--from the moment you met them--don’t hate you. And Harry didn’t mind telling you over and over again.
“They were just that we split up, that’s all. But they quickly understood why.”
“What’d you tell them?” You asked curiously.
“The truth--that sometimes it’s better to be apart for a while rather than drive ourselves crazy. Told them that when the time is right, then maybe we’ll get back together.” The look in his eyes was so comforting that you immediately fell into them. Harry was always the best with giving you that extra reassurance that you and his kids need.
You felt the extra beat in your chest that pumped so harshly against your chest, but it was surrounded by butterflies, making it flutter throughout your body. As you looked so deeply into Harry’s beautiful green eyes, you realized one of two things; the first thing was that you never wanted to look so deeply into another person’s eyes unless it was Harry’s; and the second thing was that you were incredibly and overwhelmingly still in love with this man and his three children, and there hadn’t been a day that gone by where you weren’t.
Taking a deep breath, itches were crawling up your skin, begging you to say something. “D-Do you think it’s time?” Your voice asked shyly.
Harry was taken back by your question as he raised his brows. He couldn’t deny the nerves that he felt whenever he was around you, but your question seemed to have increased his nervousness.
“We’ve been separated for what feels like a long time now.” He paused, taking a deep breath as he recouped his thoughts to say the right words. “I think-”
“Daddy?” Yours and Harry’s head whipped towards the staircase, finding Estelle at the bottom of it with groggy eyes.
Harry walked towards his sunshine. “What is it, my love?” He kneeled down onto the bottom step, matching her height. Estelle told him that she couldn’t sleep, and that she’s been tossing and turning for a while, so Harry told her that he would lay with her until she fell asleep and carried her to her bedroom. He looked back at you as he was walking up the steps, and you gave him a soft smile, letting him know that it was completely okay.
You finished tidying up the kitchen, wiping down the counters and cleaning the dining table until you realized that you needed to get ready for tomorrow’s adventure.
Once Harry came down the stairs, he found you sitting on the edge of the armchair with your purse on your shoulder; you looked up as he walked up to you.
“I’m gonna head out.”
Harry’s slightly frowned. “Oh, you can stay the night if you want to.”
“No, it’s okay, thanks.” You really did want to stay the night, but you didn’t have a change of clothes for tomorrow. “I’ll be here tomorrow morning.” He nodded, walking you to the door, opening it for you.
You stepped out on his doorstep, turning around as you wrapped your arm around his waist, tiptoeing to plant a kiss to his cheek. The slightest bit of touch from your lips sent Harry’s skin on fire, warming up to the affection. The touch was sent away too quickly as you let go of him completely, giving him one last smile before walking to your car and waving at him as you drove away.
Harry closed the door, the palm of his hand cupped the cheek that you kissed and he sighed as if he was shot with Cupid’s love-arrow, and he wouldn’t mind it if it meant he would feel your affection every single day.
You arrived at the Styles household at ten in the morning with a tote-full of snacks and water, knowing the kids would get hungry from all the walking. You got there forty-five minutes earlier than planned, knowing that the Styles family wouldn’t be out the door right on time because Harry has three kids, two of them who bicker and complain from time to time—especially when they’re sleepy—and a two-year-old who was starting to run away from everything. So, you figured Harry would appreciate your help.
When Harry saw you standing on his doorstep, he let out a sigh of relief. He was still in his striped pajamas pants and a white t-shirt, holding a small pair of olive green pants. You walked in and saw Rory running around half naked, despite it being early in the morning. You told Harry that he could shower and get ready for the day, and to leave it to you because you’ll handle it—plus, you both knew that the kids often listened to you more than their own dad. He smiled appreciatively, kissing your head briefly before walking up the stairs and getting ready.
Once Rory saw you, he stopped running around the house and instead, ran towards you and into your arms. You carried him up the stairs and to his room to get some clothes on him, and luckily, Harry was able to bathe him before you showed up. You gave him his favorite toy to fumble with before you walked into Mira's room, setting Rory on her twin bed before helping her get ready. You left Rory in Mira’s room and went to Estelle’s bedroom, doing the same.
By the time Harry walked downstairs, you and the three kids were sitting on the couch, eating a banana. He smiled, slowing his steps as he was amazed at the quietness and stillness in the house, but then again, he wasn’t that amazed because he knew you’d come in and get things in order.
Harry’s home was a two minute walk to the train station, and everyone decided to take the train since it was what you and Harry did when you two were dating, and the kids really wanted to walk through the entire path of their father’s love story.
Luckily, there weren’t that many people on the train—it was practically empty—so they didn’t have to rush to get a spot for the kids. Rory sat in the middle of his sisters as they all smiled brightly towards Harry’s phone that was capturing the adorable children for a sweet memory sake. You and Harry were standing, making sure neither of the kids fell over if the train made a halting stop. You held onto the metal bar above you, Harry held the bar that was mounted into the floor, and you both watched the kids interact with one another—counting on their fingers, booping one another’s noses, and laughing; it was every parent’s dream.
Without noticing, Harry moved closer to you, placing his hand directly next to yours; the side of your hand touched his, and you looked at him with wide eyes while your heart fluttered. You were hip to hip, and you saw the smirk he had on his face while occasionally glancing over at you. You couldn’t help the heat that rose onto your cheeks because it felt like old times when you two used to ride the train together and it would get too packed to where you had to stand up; he would always face you as your hands touched—sometimes he would even intertwine your fingers together while you two held the bar as you were one—and he would hover over you, giving you plentiful kisses like the true romantic that he was.
The train ride took about 30 minutes and it was a two minute walk to the place that gave you so many happy memories and nostalgia—International Rose Test Garden was where the memories of you and Harry were stored.
You had the girls on either side of you, holding their hands; and Harry carried Rory since he was likely to run around and Harry didn’t want to risk his safety.
The sun was bright—beautiful for a day in the garden as the roses and flowers bloomed ever so widely. All of you walked the rows and rows of flowers, occasionally taking pictures in front of the rose bushes.
Remembering all the times you and Harry were hand in hand, laughing until your stomachs were sore, like you did an intense ab workout, and there were tears resting in the outer corner of your eyes. All the memories that were swirling around in your head made you come to the conclusion to one thing: you never want to be without Harry and his kids ever again.
You don’t know how it took you so long to realize this, maybe it was seeing them for the first time in six months that you realized that you had it great—a small family that accepted you and loved you for who you were, and you loved them just the same.
Harry walked beside you, the kids skipping and playing around in the grass in front of you two. Confidently, you slipped your hand into Harry’s ringed hand, immediately intertwining your fingers together as if your hand knew what it was missing. Harry briefly looked down before looking at you. He smiled, and turned his head back towards the kids, not making a big deal of it as his warm hand accepted the coldness of yours.
You gently tugged against his arm, pulling him back as he came face to face with you; a quiet gasp came out of his mouth when doing so. You looked up at him with bright eyes, and Harry was taken back to a year and a half ago where you, coincidentally, were in this same spot on the very green patch of grass.
“Harry…” you breathed out, looking down at your feet nervously. He made the bold move to step closer to you, chests almost touching. Harry lifted your chin up with his fingers, locking eyes with you so intently that you practically lost your breath.
“What is it?” He whispered.
Taking a deep breath, you said, “I-I realized something.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
Glancing over at the kids, they were giving you big smiles and thumbs up for reassurance, and your heart swooned at their support and love they provided you to finally get back together with their father, even if you weren’t their biological mother.
You looked back at Harry, who was waiting patiently. “I love you. I still do and never stopped.” Harry felt like he stopped breathing at that moment. “You make me so happy—you and the kids, and I don’t want to be without you all anymore. I-I don’t like how it’s only taken me this much time to tell you this, but it felt like the perfect time since this was the place where I first told you I loved you.”
Harry smiled, taking your hands into his. His thumbs smoothed your skin on the back of your hand before he brought them up to his lips and kissed them so delicately. The action made you smile softly before your mind had switched it to thinking that it was affection before the rejection.
But then he opened his mouth to speak such beautiful words that you had been aching to hear during the breakup.
“You’re my everything. I truly don’t know what I’d do without you because you. You’re part of my source of happiness, and life didn’t feel the same without you—the kids could agree with me on that.” He chuckled, looking at them to find them holding hands and jumping around in circles. “But I know that we separated for the better only for us to come back stronger than ever, and I’m never gonna let go of you again, okay?”
Tears pricked your eyes before they streamed down your cheeks. Your heart felt like it was pounding harder than ever, but it was filled with so much love from and for this man in front of you.
Harry wiped away your tears, leaning in to kiss your forehead, down to your eyelids as he kissed your tears away. He pulled away and you opened your eyes, giving each other a relieved and happy smile.
“I love you,” he said, and he swore he saw the brightest smile he’s ever seen—brighter than the sun. “Always have and always will.”
“And I love you. C-Can you kiss me, please?”
Harry grinned. “It would be an honor.”
Placing his palms on the side of your face, he leaned his forehead against yours. Your hands were wrapped around his wrists, rubbing his skin softly. With a smile, he kissed you with such softness and passion that the flowers bloomed largely and the sun shined ever so brightly. The kids cheered and clapped, making bystanders think that you’d just gotten engaged, but you both knew that would be the next step. Your stomach was in knots, butterflies surrounding your body as he captured your lips with his. Hugging Harry’s waist, you pulled him closer and wrapped your arms around him, and he kissed you harder, effortlessly moving his lips in sync with yours as if he was a pro on kissing you, which he was.
Harry pulled away first, giving you several pecks before opening his eyes. “God, I missed doing that. Missed you so much, darling.”
“I missed you too, baby.” You were high on happiness, high on love. “I’m sorry it took us this long.” A slight frown appeared on your face, but Harry kissed it away.
“Hey, hey. None of that. I would’ve loved you until the end of time. I don’t care how long it took, you’re my forever,” he vowed, not planning to break that promise.
Missing his lips on yours, you leaned up to kiss him again while your arms were wrapped around his neck and his were around your waist, holding you tightly as if he was afraid you’d run off.
Suddenly, you started giggling into the kiss, making Harry smile before he pulled away.
“What’s so funny?” He asked. You started thinking about the conversation from the park when you asked him if he was seeing someone.
You curled in your lips before you said, “You’re a literal dilf, and I’m so in love with you.”
please tell me all of your thoughts, feelings, favorite moments and scenes! thank you for reading <3
#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles angst#harry styles fluff#harry styles ff#harry styles fanfic#harry styles x yn#harry styles x you#harry styles x reader#harry styles reader insert#harry styles au#dad!harry#harry styles fic#harry styles writing#harry styles one shot#harry styles imagine
841 notes
·
View notes
Text
we’re fools. (bucky barnes x reader)
summary: for all bucky barnes knows, he hates clichés. and this thing between you two, happens to be the biggest one.
(enemies to lovers trope or i watched the society on netflix recently and based this entirely on harry bingham and cassandra pressman)
pairing: college au!bucky x reader
warnings: alcohol, angst, too much tension, bucky and reader are stupid and in denial, sexual tension all around the place
tagging: @tonystankschild
(other parts) (masterlist)
part 2/3:
And then it’s the last week of February and you have an assignment together, you and Bucky, the boy with black hair and a mind that you’re certain is not as clever as he insists it is. You know this cannot possibly end well. You feel it when he sits beside you and his knee brushes past your leg. You feel it when you take a breath and smell his aftershave. Sandalwood and vanilla. It makes you want to lick your lips. Please, get a grip. You try to get away, even propose to write the whole thing alone so you wouldn’t have to spend any time around him. In your mind, you call it self defense. But Bucky’s boastful and you can see him pumping the muscles in his neck, trying to intimidate you.
“My dorm, tomorrow at 7,” he says “Don’t be late.”
-
(your late night instagram search history)
(00:38 AM) #literaturememes
(01:15 AM) @buckybrns
(01:30 AM) #newgirl
(01:50 AM) @buckybrns
(02:10 AM) @buckybrns
You find it annoying; how he’s present even when he’s not around.
-
The thing about Bucky Barnes is that everyone, boys and girls, adore him alike. He’s charming, he’s crafty, he’s brilliant. He’s everything they want him to be and even more. It nearly condones his megalomania.
The thing about Bucky Barnes is that he’s aware he has an audience. Always plans his moves, knows how to play his character perfectly. He wears dark designer jeans and plain Henley shirts, buttons open, fabric tight around his biceps. Sometimes even a black leather jacket and a tag necklace. Girls are intrigued by the bad-boy, straight A student contrast, while the boys are envious enough keep him close and invite him to all of their parties. Bucky gives them whatever they need.
The thing about Bucky Barnes is that he’s utterly lonely. He has never said so, but it’s the truest thing about him. He has Sam. But for how long? Bucky’s used to people going away. It has been imprinted on him. His best friend, Steve, left with his girlfriend in an exchange program last month and Natasha, the one girl he ever came close to loving, just started dating Clint Barton. Clint fucking Barton. What a downgrade.
And then there’s you, sitting at the end of his bed, playing with the ring in your finger, reading some neatly written lecture notes. Usually, Bucky would think about 129 cheeky comments he could make to a girl in his room. But not to you. Are you sure, Bucky? He has grown accustomed to disliking you. It’s the one constant he has left and he’s not planning on losing it.
He leans down and takes the place next to you, a bottle of beer dangling loosely in his hand.
He offers and you decline.
“We need to concentrate on the project.”
“You’re the biggest killjoy.” Bucky says with a hint of a smirk.
“I’m studying, Bucky.” He can see your left hand holding that dark green pen in a tight grip and your eyes trying to focus everywhere but on his face. He can see your hair glistening in the warm afternoon light that comes from his window. He can see the soft red blush on your cheeks and the beauty mark on your neck. What a tricky thing it is to see. And to feel. And to want.
Is that what dislike tastes like, Bucky?
-
He talks a lot, that’s the first thing you notice. He says all sorts of things, most of them having nothing to do with your project. You’re certain it’s because he’s feeling as uncomfortable and agitated as you. But still, it’s annoying as hell.
“Listen,” you say and turn to his side “I’m not going to fail this class just because you have the attention span of a two year old.”
A laugh escapes his lips and you watch, completely in awe, the way little wrinkles form around his eyes and his nose scrunches. Right now, he looks tender and warm. No, he doesn’t.
“I think we’re both pretty smart,” Bucky says nonchalant and wets his lower lip with his tongue, before he adds, “We’ve got this, so relax doll.”
There are rules, things that are solid, de facto.
Example 1: Bucky never praises you. At least not out loud.
Example 1: Not valid anymore.
Example 2: Bucky uses the word “doll” approximately ten times a day. To other girls. The girls he likes. Not to you.
That’s actually wrong, he called you doll the first time you met. That doesn’t count. He didn’t know you then.
Example 2: Not valid anymore.
It feels foreign. Pleasant and beguiling, but foreign.
“You always call girls “doll”. What is this?” You ask and he looks up. “Is it like your thing, your flirt move?”
Bucky meets your gaze, his forehead creased, and holds it for some seconds before he laughs again. Is this amusing him?
“No, I’m serious.” You bite your lip. “You even did it to me when we first met.”
“I did?”
Of course he doesn’t remember, what did you expect?
“Yeah, when you helped me find the admission office.”
“And you remember that, an entire year later?” He raises his eyebrows, looking entertained and partly interested.
Your mind empties and for some time you feel out of place, embarrassed. But you’re quick to recollect yourself. You can’t let him get you.
“It was my first day as a college student, I remember all of it.”
Liar. You don’t even remember who you sat next to.
Bucky smirks a little too long for your liking and then he leans in, his body bending in a way that makes you forget to breath. He’s so close and you only see blue, a rare kind of blue between the depths of the ocean and the brightest shade of the sky at noon. This would be so much easier if he wasn’t that handsome. Handsome and indomitable. What an awful combination.
“Interesting.” He whispers and lies back, touching the wall.
You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and clear your throat.
“I should go, it’s obvious we’re not making any progress.” You pick your books and stand up. “Sometimes I wonder how you get all those perfect grades, you clearly-” You merely finish your sentence before he grabs your arm and swiftly, he has you pressed against his wooden bookcase. You don’t have time to blink.
What’s happening? He was sitting down a second ago.
“That day,” he says while his thumb draws circles on your wrist. “You were wearing a denim dress and some Saturn shaped earrings. And you were holding a cherry juice box.”
It’s utterly terrifying how your emotions toss and turn the moment you realize what he’s talking about and the fragile muscles of your heart ache because Bucky cares. Bucky remembers.
“It wasn’t my first day of college, but I remember.”
You want to throw up. Or kiss him. You’re not sure. You know you hate Bucky. Do you? You’ve taught yourself to. And it was never supposed to change. It shouldn’t have to.
You part your lips to say something, anything, but he shakes his head and steps back.
“You should go.”
And you do. And you’ll never tell him, but you’ll always regret not kissing him then. You’re sure now.
-
your inbox, the next morning
(10:25 AM) from [email protected]
I’m sending you our assignment. You only need to add a few things and it’s done. If anything else comes up, it’s better we work on our own.
-
For Bucky, it all came crashing down the moment he first saw you. It was all over the moment his eyes met yours. A gourmand perfume lingered in the air around you that day and it stained his pores. And it’s been with him since then. Clinging onto his flesh.
It’s partly obsessive and partly romantic and Bucky tries to keep it locked inside. He thinks he can make it go away easily, the way he flicks a crumb off his expensive cashmere scarf. He thinks if he doesn’t talk about it, it’ll be less true. That’s not how things work, Bucky.
Yeah, he’s starting to notice.
And he’s trying so hard to hate you. The problem is, he doesn’t think he can.
(his late night instagram search history)
(00:45 AM) #tomfordperfumes
(01:30 AM) @y/n
(01:50 AM) #funnycats
(02:15 AM) @y/n
(03:45 AM) @y/n
-
You make it your mission to avoid him and it’s going well until the fifth of March. You spot him at Sam Wilson’s party. You should have known he’d be here, they’re friends. There’s a thick cloud of cigarette smoke all around, but still, you can perfectly see him. He’s standing alone, his skin changing colors under the neon lights, a plastic cup in his hand, eyes crystal blue and swollen and fixated on you.
The room is small and everything feels known but unfamiliar at the same time; the atmosphere, his gaze, the lump on your throat.
They’re suffocating you, the looks you give each other.
-
“Buck, what do you want?” Sam asks, holding both vodka and gin and he observes the way Bucky merely turns his head to look at him.
What do you want Bucky?
Not to play a role anymore. For Steve to be back. Maybe, Natasha. No, he hasn’t thought about her in a month. Perhaps a Pulitzer Prize. Definitely a new pair of sunglasses. But there is one more answer he has behind his teeth.
Y/N, he almost says. Always.
“Vodka.”
-
He leaves before midnight and you can’t remember where the urge came from, yet you’re following him. You know he has noticed. But he just keeps walking until he reaches the door of his dorm and presses his back against it. He sees you and you see him and his eyes cut your heart open.
“Your place is on the other side of the building.”
“I know,” you mumble, “I just never got to say good job on the assignment and I wanted to.” You are unable to meet his eyes. You sound pitiful and you want to hit a wall; with your head.
Why the hell did you follow him here?
Because sometimes you do stupid things.
Bucky mockingly opens his mouth, as if shocked. It almost makes you groan.
“Did Miss high and mighty just comment something nice about me?”
“Why do you have to contradict everything I say?”
He shakes his head and you can feel your heart beat loud and irregular and it’s not because you’re mad. It’s because he’s coming closer, almost chest to chest now. And it’s because you can swear, he just glanced at your lips.
“Someone has to, you can’t act like you know everything all the time.”
“I don’t do that, you don’t know a thing about me Bucky.”
“Oh, but I do. You’re Y/N, you like plaid skirts and Homer and dark green pens. You expect everyone to be perfect. You expect yourself to be perfect. And you always want to do the right thing.”
His pupils are dilated. Yours must be too. Bucky Barnes is dangerous and fatal. He makes your blood coil and your mouth dry. And there’s a tension, almost pain, almost agony, deep in your lungs and it burns. And you don’t know who leaned in first, probably you because Bucky isn’t that brave yet, but suddenly your hands are everywhere. Your fingers blending in his hair, his digging in the skin on the back of your neck. He’s bringing you closer and it’s a mess and all you can hear is the beating of your heart; a rapid vibration between your ears. It’s pure and raw and it doesn’t hurt anymore.
He tastes like ambrosia and a year-old despair and you think you can go on forever. You eventually break apart because you both need to breath and for a second you worry because he looks like he’s ready to cry, but instead he smiles, softly touching your cheek.
“Did I do the right thing?” You whisper.
...
feedback is so appreciated and motivates me tons, thank you :)
#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#college au#bucky barnes imagine#au!bucky barnes#bucky barnes x you#sebastian stan#alternate universe#alternate universe bucky#sebastian stan imagine#sebastian stan x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#fools
517 notes
·
View notes
Note
Goth Gf Anon🤙
Alright, alright, alright. Since that Tech piece was fucking phenomenal a d you said you don't get any thots of your faves, I'll lend one of my Fives thots.
So, it's the end of the war, Chancellor Palpatine had been exposed for his plot against the Jedi and executed for treason. The Republic and Seperatists made peace treaties upon realizing they were played on both sides. The war is over, Fives is a war hero, a statue in front of the Jedi Temple in his honor. But he could care less when you're smiling at him, tears in your eyes with the proudest glow on your face.
The Clone production on Kamino is halted, leaving the troopers, cadets and infants in a limbo. The Senate passes a bill allowing the Clones unalienable rights, passing adoption bills allowing civilians to adopt baby clones as their own. The Jedi also demand each and every clone has their chips removed. Scientists are working on a serum to slow their aging process down back to normal.
Fives rejoiced in victory, finally happy that the war was over and his brothers were treated as humans. But you.
He was over the fucking moons that he could be with you, not a war, battles or campaigns to keep you apart.
He marries you within the week of the marriage bill being passed.
You move to Naboo, Anakin had left the Jedi Order and started a home with Padmé and his twins, they visit you often, dropping off Luke and Leia when they're off on Senate business or off doing young couple things.
Fives loves seeing you with the twins, there's just something so domestic about it. When he sees you take care of them, make them giggle, feed them. And when the Skywalkers come back and praise you for taking such good care of their babies... it stirs something primal in his gut.
You two are intimate one night-- like many after you married. He's crawling up on his peak, he's right there, his brain switches off, spit firing shit as his thrusts start to stutter like the words rolling from his tongue, thick as honey.
"Y-you-- you looked so good with those-- shit!-- those fuckin' kids!"
"Wanna make you! Fuck, baby-- I'm g-gonna m-make you a fucking mother-- oh shit!"
"Gonna fuck a baby into you, sweetheart!"
And you're thinking: "What a pleasant turn of events."
Then you just start fucking feeding him.
"Yes, yes, yes, Fives! Anything you want! We'll fucking grow old together!"
You moan, "Put a fucking baby in me, cum deep."
And he can't hold it anymore, an inhuman sound ripped out of his chest and tearing through his throat as he slams into you one more time, his spend shooting deep. 11/10 best orgasm he's had.
Afterwards, you both talk it out. You've always thought about starting a family with him, thinking about how good of a father he would be considering the way he always looked out for his brothers. Fives explains himself a little more clearer after the fact, and you decide you'll go to the med center to get your contraceptive implant removed the next time it has to be replaced. You've decided you wanted to start a family with him.
Apologies if this was lackluster, I don't usually write smut lines lol.
Ciao ;)
!!!HOLY OMTHER OF GOD
I...I- don't even know how to respond to this. it’s late I KNOW but I’ve been trying to come up with a worthy reply.
whyyyyy did I start fucking tearing up when going through each word in the first half WHY this is so beautiful and Fives deserves so much more and I love him. this is perfect, you are perfect. when he starts blurting out his desires "Wanna make you! Fuck, baby-- I'm g-gonna m-make you a fucking mother-- oh shit!" I- uh- yeah. that sent me. "What a pleasant turn of events" LMAO. ME. please write this as a fic. lackluster? mmmm no not even close. I love this
But seriously, how do I even add anymore to this already perfect droplet of heaven you so graciously placed in my inbox. tbh though, my gutter brain immediately wants to analyze how that night goes:
(18+ only!!! fluff, breeding kink, unprotected piv)
***
you were blissfully unaware of the way Fives gawked at you earlier today - how he watched you with so much love and adoration in his eyes as you giggled with Luke and cradled Leia to sleep
It didn’t feel appropriate, but he couldn’t help but get hard at the vision playing out in front of him - wholesome domesticity, soft giggles, and hushed coos filled his very own living room and he just needed to step away to take care of his painfully hard and aching erection
Fives can't help it - up until recently he was sure on having a dark fate, one that either involved being killed on the front, or worse: never being able to truly make you his because of his sole duty to fight for the Republic just would not allow such a peaceful and perfect life - it would hurt you more than he would care to live through
He didn’t realize just how badly he wanted the twins to be his - living, breathing, beautiful humans that you and him had created out of love, and, well, good fucking sex
So Fives came back from the bathroom after tugging himself raw - trying to alleviate that wanting ache that’d been sitting heavy deep in his bones and showing its face in the form of starving arousal - and the Skywalker’s had returned from Coruscant to pick up their babies
Fives hadn’t turned the corner yet - the soft voices coming from the three of you, keeping quiet while the twins were finally asleep, stopped him in his tracks. He heard the way Padmé praised you and thanked you over and over for always watching the kids, and Anakin cooing in the sweetest voice Fives had ever heard his former General speak in right at his own sleeping babies.
Your own voice was extremely soft and kind, careful as to not wake the twins up in the hand-over. Fives’ heart - and cock - were aching.
That's what Fives is thinking of as he’s pounding you into the next system - watching with hungry eyes at how your pussy so beautifully swallows his cock, yet he can't help but be slightly distracted when all these thoughts about filling you full with his seed are stemming from how motherly and breathtaking you looked when interacting with the Skywalker twins - how you always look when you’re watching them
You’re both so close to finishing - Fives groans at the way your walls squeeze unforgivingly around him as you approach your climax - a sight that is most devine to him. He’s right there as well - the relentless clenching of your cunt sure as hell pushes him right there to where he’s about to-
“Y-you looked so good with the - mmph - the twins" he doesn’t even realize he’d just voiced his thoughts aloud - albeit, in the form of a growl - until he sees how your eyes widen after struggling to come down from your first high
He’s no where near embarrassed - perhaps it was finally fucking time to let you know just how painfully hard you make him when you’re all motherly and in caretaker mode
The way your features morph from being caught in surprise to desperation and hunger completely takes the filter off of him - and he begins voicing his plans for the two of you in the heat of the moment
“Wanna - aghh- fuck a b-aby into this sweet p-pussy” his teeth are clenched tightly together as he continuously hits that exquisite spot so deep within your heat and your head is positively spinning at his shameless confessions - fuck, you want him to make good on his word.
“Fuck... you’re nearly ch-oking my cock, pretty thing,” he grits out between heavy pants. “You want me to, hm? Wanna let me - mmphh - fill you so f-fucking deep that you swell with my child?”
Your body is on fucking fire - you’ve never heard Fives speak of this before, and boy oh boy it is 100% welcome right about now. Yes, yes you want that so, so bad but you never thought to bring it up before because everything was still new with how the galaxy has changed for the better... but right now - you’re going to fucking feed him so he can have the best orgasm he’s ever had
“Yes, love, please,” you’re whimpering those three words like a prayer over and over between loud, uncontrollable moans - completely taken by him and the way he looks so gorgeous in this determined and concentrative state. “Shit, fill me up with our child,” you punctuate your mewling request with the repetition of his name - you’re hitting your climax again but this one is about to utterly wreck you like never before. “Right now.”
Fives’ eyes clamp shut and the sweat on his brow is beginning to drop from his forehead to your bare chest with how he is hovered over you - your soft but commanding words has the most gargled and loud groan erupt from deep within his chest as he stills his hips
You can feel the way his cock pulsates so far inside of you - liquid warmth spitting from the head and no doubt seeping into your cervix
You’re both completely out of breath and totally fucked-out - you think that’s the most Fives has ever cum, and you’re just staring up at him with the sweetest smile you can muster in your exhausted state
“We can talk about it more later, but...” Fives rubs at his neck after hauling himself off of you - pulling you close to his chest and wrapping his arms tightly around your torso.
“No need,” you say softly - your hands wrapping around his forearms. “I’ll have them remove the implant on my next visit.”
Your words of promise has Fives uncontrollably getting hard again
***
Tags! Please fill out my form if you wanna be added <3
@bvcketfvcker @deewithani @chromia7567 @threevie @letitrainathousandflames @latenightsthoughtsnstuff @thefact0rygirl @justanothersadperson93 @ohtobeamoth @14mcmd1122 @tacticalsparkles @cheesemachine44 @damerondala @buckethead-over-heels @kriffclone @purgetroopercody @socially-anxious-fangirl @cloneygoodness @marya-komar @beskarprincessjenny @awkward-katiesaur @katiebits1 @kawaiitimecharm @shiny-mando @sapphichorrorpictureshow @fat-zygerrian @foodandbooksplease @the-siren-writes-it @ken-obiwan @parkotedarasuum @ladykatakuri
#goth gf anon#god-tier thot ty non-non#fuck. I love him#he deserves a happy ending. jfc please give it to him#thots with M#arc trooper fives x reader#arc trooper fives smut#18+#djarrex writes#fives x reader#arc trooper fives
157 notes
·
View notes
Note
hear me out- one more littleboo but like if they were crying or like going through smt and ranboo just helps//comforts them if that makes sense? GEHDDH okay have a good day :]
THE PEOPLE DEMAND HURT/COMFORT. I SHALL FEED YOU, MY PEOPLE
Also, I wanted to address why I use ‘Ranboo’ in these fics, when referring to the actual CC- We don’t know Ranboo’s real name. I want to respect his wishes and not speculate, because that’s creepy. So, I just use Ranboo. A couple people were asking in my inbox. I know Tubbo said his name was Mark, but that was never confirmed, and, again, I don’t want to speculate on his personal information, that’s WEIRD.
LIttleboo IV: Hurt/comfort or bust.
Pairing: Ranboo x sibling!Reader (gender-neutral)!
Rating: Soft. Bad ending, I’m so sorry (NOT ANGST, IM JUST BAD AT WRITING)
Summary: Being a freshman sucks ass, but Ranboo bought taco bell, it’s all good.
To say today was a bad day would be an understatement. It was probably the most terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day of your 14-year-old life. The whole day the universe would launch bad thing after bad thing at you, as if it was somehow testing you in your will to deal with bullshit. Like it was asking you ‘What are you willing to put up with today?’
Your answer was ‘Not fucking this.’
You woke up to your brother shaking you softly, telling you the power had gone out and you were both late. For an upperclassman this wasn’t a big deal- But you were a freshman. Your teachers were going to give you absolute hell for being late, and knowing Ranboo was going to get off scot-free made you a little salty. You had to skip breakfast and had to leave with your hair still a bit messy, barely able to comb through it with your fingers while Ranboo drove you both to school.
Then there was a pop quiz first period- English. You were never terrible at english, but being on the topic of the last three chapters of the book you were reading for class- Chapters which you had not read yet- The test had been a little difficult. Not to mention the hunger clawing at your stomach, and the strange fog that was settled about your thoughts.
You thought you could catch a break through second period and lunch, knowing Chemistry would be an easy day and you could grab something good with your brother, but fate had other plans in mind.
During Chemistry, you were tasked with picking a partner and completing an experiment afterthought worksheet, going over the experiment you had done in class the day before. You were paired with the nice girl sat next to you- At least you thought she was nice. As the teacher dismissed the class to begin talking amongst themselves, you turned to start asking her how her experiment went yesterday. You didn’t have a chance to ask, however, as the girl snapped at you harshly. ���Don’t even bother! I’m not doing this assignment. Do it on your own.”
Her voice was pitched and loud, and it caused you to wince back. You tilt your head and try to ask her, but she cuts you off by flicking the paper in your direction. It sends both your papers flying, and you try to catch them, but fail miserably and fall out of your chair unceremoniously. As you fall, your foot comes up to counter balance and you nearly kick the girl in the head- Keyword being nearly. You were sure you were able to stop yourself, and hadn’t touched it, but still the girl screeches and begins screaming bloody murder. The teacher comes over to check what’s going on, the girl sobbing and holding her head.
And then she lies through her teeth.
“Sir, she just kicked me! I was just asking about her experiment and she kicks me!”
She’s sobbing dramatically, and though you’re clearly not at fault, considering it was clear you had fallen out of your chair. Even still the teacher sides with her, giving you a short and disappointing talk about violent behaviour in the classroom, ending with “I have no choice but to give you lunch detention and a zero on the assignment.”
You don’t try to argue- Exhaustion was already settling on your body and you didn’t want to just make the situation worse than it already was. The rest of second period dragged on like a snail. You sat awkwardly at your table, twiddling your thumbs and staring at the walls. You could feel eyes boring into the back of your skull with each passing glance at the students. A few whispers that seemed much too loud yet indecipherable hitting your ears, somehow knowing deep in your soul that the other students were whispering about you. By the time the lunch bell rang you were starting to feel tears prick at your eyes as your own thoughts betrayed you.
During lunch detention, you were at the very least allowed your phone. You texted your brother, alerting him that you had lunch detention. He promised to bring you food before your third period began- The gesture brought a smile to your face. Your third period was your favorite, because Ranboo was also taking that class. US History. You were able to push through detention with Philza’s stream, starting a TTS war with Wilbur in the time you were able to watch. Of course, mentioning you were in detention earned you a little rant from Phil, not doing much to better your mood.
When third period came down to bless you, you could feel the tears welling in your eyes at the happy sight of your tall older brother holding a taco bell bag in his hand. You basically tackled him, nearly knocking him to the ground. His arms flew around you for stability, and you gripped the back of his shirt as an involuntary sob came out of your mouth.
Ranboo stared down at you with his brows furrowed with concern, his mouth pulled into a tight frown. He pushed you to the side to allow other students to get into the classroom, and released you from the hug to look you in the face. Your eyes were puffy and your cheeks and nose were red, stray tears still rolling down your cheeks. He wiped one away.
“(Y/N), what happened? Why are you crying?” He asked, your eyes avoiding him. You hated to cry in front of people- But the stress of the day weighed heavy on your shoulders. You had just gotten too excited. When you explained this, Ranboo shook his head. “(Y/N) it’s perfectly okay, you don’t have to apologize.”
He hugged you again, and you hugged him back. After standing there for a moment, the annoying ring of the school bell sounded overheard, alerting you that class was starting.
“Tell you what,” Ranboo beamed at you, picking up the bag of food. “We’re gonna go in there, annoy Mr. Anderson, and eat chalupas until we explode. Sound good?”
You smile and nod your head. God, your older brother is so cool.
---
The rest of the day was smooth as it could be. You spent all of third period messing around with Ranboo- The assignment given for the day forgotten as homework that you would sit down and do together before Ranboo had to stream. You feared that your fourth period, Algebra, would once again break you down into a ball of anxiety and terror. But to your pleasant surprise, you would be watching a movie with a substitute for that class.
Your mood had been significantly raised by the time the bell had rung, releasing you from the confines of the building. You packed your things quietly, the hustle and bustle of an emptying school occupying your senses. You had rushed down through the hallways towards to doors leading to student parking. Ranboo was supposed to be waiting for you at the car.
But before you could reach the door, you felt a hand grip your bag, pulling you backwards. Your feet flew out from under you as you fell to the ground, your bag being ripped from your shoulders. You felt you back collide with the cold, tiled ground, pain shooting through spine.
Shrill giggling sounds from above you. You groan and roll onto your front, staring up at a group of three girls laughing at you. You recognized the one holding your bag from your chemistry class. By the looks of the other two, they were also freshmen. You try to get on your feet, but the girl swings her leg, knocking your hands out from under you. You feel something press against your back.
The girl from your class laughs as she bends down to look at you. “You thought you could get away with that little stunt?” She sneers, her hand grabbing your face. Not able to think of anything else to do, you snap your jaws, nearly biting her. She screeches and backs away.
“DID YOU JUST TRY TO BITE ME?” She screams, her face twisted in disgust. You feel the presume on your back worsen, and you strain your neck to see who was standing on your back. You recognized the guy as a junior on the soccer team. You vaguely recalled the girl mentioned she was dating a guy on the soccer team.
You squirm, freeing your hands from underneath you. Just as you were about to grab the guy’s leg, you hear a familiar voice shout. The three girls in front of you scatter like rats- But the soccer player stays. He turns to look at whoever shouted, his chest puffing out as if he’s prepared for a fight. However the color seems to drain from his face when he sees the mystery person- And he runs away like a dog with its tail between its legs.
As you start to stand, someone grabs you by the shoulders and helps you up. You’re met with the mop of brown hair and concerned gray eyes of your older brother. He helps you to your feet, handing you your bag. You thank him as you throw the bag over your shoulders, giving your older brother a tight hug.
You don’t even realize there were tears in your eyes again, until Ranboo tells you to dry your eyes. “Sorry…” You whisper, hand wiping away the water. “I don’t know why I’m crying.
Ranboo smiles at you again, his hand patting the top of your head. You smile at him too, and he leads you out of the school, asking if you’re alright or if anything hurts. You spend the walk to the car feeling grateful you have someone to help you out like that. It has you smiling to entire ride home.
#mcyt x reader#dream smp x reader#dsmp x reader#ranboo x reader#ranboo x you#ranboo x y/n#request#anon#cc!ranboo x reader#cc!ranboo x you#cc!ranboo x y/n
263 notes
·
View notes
Note
hi!! how are you? I’m the one who sent you that dream prompt lol
I was thinking of this (way less weird) prompt: where feyre and Rhys knew each other since kids and were together, there’s a part of the books that Rhys says he and mor used to be sent to the cabin when they got into trouble (I think?) and here it is: Rhys has got himself in a fight with his dad and is sent there alone, but feyre finds a way to go to him without anyone knowing and they have the cabin all to themselves *insert smut here*
Hello little dreamer! Alright I've done so much prompt work these last couple of days and was trying to work through them chronologically because that's what seems fair but now I am tired and I just want to do one more and then take a break and this one is hands down my FAVOURITE of the ones left in my inbox right now. So you're getting bumped up!! Bit of a long one, fair warning.
A Chink in the Wall
Rhys has been alive for eighteen years, has known Feyre for seventeen, and has loved her for what feels like a thousand. He does not remember a time without Feyre, he has known she is his mate since before he knew what the word meant, and their progression from childhood best friends to lovers was something he does not remembering happening at one particular time, but gradually, the same way his legs had grown longer.
What he does remember is the first time they'd slept together, and how he'd spent so long thinking about it beforehand that he'd thought he'd go mad, only to discover the real madness was once they'd started and then couldn't stop. He'd thought he was hyper-aware of Feyre before- now the scent of her hit him like a brick any time she walked in the room, and once he'd caught her scent he needed to be touching her. Would start to shake and fall apart at the seams until he could pull her into his lap.
Over the years, Rhys's mother always told him that he was too rough with Feyre. Did it when they were kids and did it now, when Feyre would be around their house and he constantly had his hands under her hair or squeezing on her her hip or scratching at her belly.
"You can put her down for one second, for Cauldron's sake," she'd say over dinner.
And Rhys knew why. Had always known that as the High Lord's only son, he had power roiling off him in waves. He figured it was part of the reason why he was always moving, more and more as he got older. Whether it was sparring with the Illyrians or crawling thought the bedroom of Feyre's bedroom window, it felt like he leapt between extremes these days. Felt like he was always thirsty and needing to swallow down violence and pleasure and feeling like water. His father called it the "age of fighting and fucking;" his mother said this is why they couldn't have nice things.
But his mother doesn't know Feyre like he does. Feyre isn't some fragile little girl, she is the strongest person he knows. She is the only one who, when he is throwing all he has at her, can not only contain the energy flooding out of him in uncontrollable torrents, but still loves him all the same for it.
So these days, he does not like to be without her. Does not like to be too far from her, and although they both have curfews, Rhys does not often sleep alone.
Today is a exception.
Today, Rhys is fighting with his father because he stole a fine bottle of brandy from his father's shelf and snuck it between the bars of the cell where Azriel has been locked away. Again.
Rhys yells that what they are doing to Azriel is cruel and if they let it go on they are just as bad. His father yells back that it is not their place to meddle in another family's business and what does this have to do with Rhys being a sneak and a thief? Rhys says it is typical of his father to care more about alcohol than the life of a fae, and his father says and what exactly are you trying to say boy? And then he tells Rhys that he was not so old that Rhys's power is greater than his just yet, and then the fight breaks out.
Rhys does not like to reflect on what happens next too much because he wants to win so badly, wants to best his father just once, but he is eighteen and his father is nine hundred and twenty and the High Lord of the largest court in Prythian.
Suffice to say, the fight is over when Rhys has a black eye and bruised ribs, his father is holding him off the floor by his shirt front, and his mother is pleading with him to put him down.
He drops Rhys with a thud, and Rhys glowers at him.
"The cabin," his father snarls.
"Surely he's had punishment enough," his mother says, but his father does not look at her.
"You come swinging your fists at me?" he says to Rhys. His voice is quiet now, but glitters with rage. "You steal from me, you defy me, and then you come at me with your pathetic little claws out? Well. You can spend three days in isolation."
Rhys looks toward his mother, but there's nothing she can do. He opens his mouth to sling a final insult at his father, but space is already folding around him and he's being sent where no one else can winnow in or out without his father's explicit say so.
Rhys spends the next twenty minutes angrily pacing the cabin. He flings shadows aimlessly at the cabinets, curses his father eight times to sunday, and punches a hole in the wall. It is the latter that gets Feyre's attention.
Ouch, she says through the bond. I felt that one.
Rhys drops onto a couch heavily, the anger washing out of him at the sound of Feyre's voice in his mind.
I'm sorry, he says. I know you hate it when I break things.
Things. Your own knuckles. Yeah it's not my favourite.
Rhys sighs. I'm in the cabin, he tells her.
I know, she says. What did you do this time?
Got into a fight with my dad.
Well did you at least land a couple good ones?
Rhys grins, in spite of himself. I did manage to get a kick into his stomach, this time.
Good, Feyre says. Unlike his mother, she never tells him to try to get along with his father.
I miss you, Rhys says.
You saw me this morning, Feyre points out.
Yes, replied Rhys, but you had way too many clothes on. It didn't count. He can almost feel Feyre shifting in his mind.
You always think I'm wearing too many clothes, she says.
I do, Rhys agrees. Not naked is not good enough.
He slouches back on the couch and closes his eyes. Although he is not yet powerful enough to take down his father, his power is growing. Day by day it stretches and expands uncomfortably, like growing pains, and when he's not in Feyre's bed, sometimes the shadows hound him at night. They claw at him now, rake at his chest like a cat that thinks it's giving affection but leaves you in tatters.
He turns his thoughts back to more pleasant things.
Take it off, he growls at Feyre. Take it all off. I hate it when I can't see your skin.
And what makes you think I've been wearing clothes this whole time? Feyre asks. Rhys freezes, and is rock hard in an instant.
Show me, he shoots down the bond.
Ask nicely, Feyre answers.
Please, Rhys says. Runs his talons down the shields of her mind from top to bottom. Please. Sends her a memory of him kissing her every inch of skin. Please.
Feyre's shudder reaches him like a whisper, and then he's seeing through her eyes.
The interior of her bedroom. Where he spends more time than in his own. Clothes strewn on the floor- boots kicked off in the corner. Illyrian leathers dumped in a pile. Under garments hanging off the end of the bed.
Feyre's bare ankles crossed in front of her on her bed, on top of the covers.
Rhys shivers. He watches Feyre's gaze travel excruciatingly slowly upward, up her shins, past her knees, onto her lovely thighs.
More, Rhys breathes, but Feyre pauses. Her knees bend and the view shifts, as if she has been sitting up and is now laying back down. I need you like I need air, Rhys whimpers, and his hand grabs at the insistent ache in the front of his pants.
Mmm, sighs Feyre. Sometimes I need you. Sometimes I think I could just do it myself. Her gaze finally shifts and watches her own hand slide between her legs.
Oh you cruel thing! Rhys says. He is now practically panting the sight of her starting without him. He loves it. He hates it. It's nowhere near enough.
You know it's not as good by yourself, Rhys tells her.
I don't know, Feyre muses. I'm pretty sure it's faster. Rhys growls.
Who needs faster, he says, when I can be so, so slow. He shows her the image of him settling between her knees. Pressing kisses that start at her knee and travel down her inner thigh. Laying the flat of his tongue on her and licking a lazy stripe up her pussy that ends in a suckling kiss over her clit.
Feyre moans straight down the bond, and it cleaves through Rhys like a arrow shot true. Get over here, he tells her, and Feyre laughs breathlessly.
I can't, lover, she says. Your father has that place warded like a prison, remember? Rhys swears out loud and hurls more shadows uselessly against the walls of magic.
Alright, alright, Feyre says to him. You know just throwing things at it isn't going to work.
Fuck this, Rhys says savagely. You're my mate, he can't keep us apart.
Well, we just need to outsmart him, then, Feyre reasons. He might be stronger, but I've always thought you were smarter. Well, she amends. At least you were when you bothered to use your brain and before you were all... testosterone-y.
Rhys finds himself smiling. Testosterone-y?
Yeah, you know, Feyre says. The old upstairs brain. Remember that guy?
Rhys laughs. He is always in awe of how quickly Feyre calms him down. I thought you liked my downstairs brain, he says in his midnight voice.
Use your upstairs brain to get me through the wards, and I'll show you how much I like your downstairs brain.
And that is more than motivation enough.
Rhys gets up off the couch, and paces around the room again. My dad has always been lazy with spells, he says. He relies on his brute strength, and on everyone being afraid of him more than anything else.
Okay, Feyre says, picking up his train of thought. So... what if there's a weakness in his wards?
A chink in the wall, Rhys agrees.
Yes.
Rhys stands still, and reaches out his mind. Probes against the wards surrounding the cabin, and is aware of Feyre doing the same on the other side. They work their way right around the cabin, when finally, Feyre breathes, here.
And then Rhys gathers every bit of power he has in him, and pushes it all against that one spot. Reaches through it, throws everything he's got until his hand is breaking through, Feyre's grabbing a hold of him, they're folding space and he pulls.
There's a shudder that runs through the cabin, and then an extremely naked Feyre falls right into Rhys's chest and they collapse on the thick carpet together.
For a second, they just blink at each other in surprise.
"It worked," says Feyre. And then Rhys realises holy shit it worked, and smoothly rolls so that Feyre is on her back and he is all over her.
"Great work," is all he says, and then he blinks and his clothes vanish too so they are both naked and the heat of her against his bare cock is absolutely unbearable. He groans, slides his hand under one of her thighs, squeezing gently, and hooks it over his elbow before pushing straight into her, unable to stand not being inside her for one more second.
Feyre moans and lifts her hips to him, barely less eager. Rhys wonders idly if the age of fighting and fucking applies to females, and then as Feyre's nails scratch angry red lines over his shoulders he thinks it might just. He wonders how long this age will go on for, and if his desperate need for Feyre will ever abate. He hopes it doesn't.
"I thought you were going to be slow," Feyre says, breathless but with the most gorgeous light dancing in her eyes. Rhys's body screeches at him but he manages to get control of his movements. To move in and out of her languidly, lazily, tortuously slow. Feyre seems to enjoy it at first, keeps her eyes on his until they're rolling back in her head.
But the longer it goes on the more sensitive she becomes, until she is writhing in his arms seeking more friction, and every time he hits his base she jolts like she's being electrified. The fact that he is tormenting himself, too, seems absolutely worth it for the knowledge that he alone can wring this kind of pleasure from her.
"Still rather play by yourself?" he teases. "Does it feel like this when it's just your own fingers?"
Feyre snaps her eyes open at this, and between jagged breaths, teases him right back.
"Sometimes," she says. "When I'm touching myself and picturing you." A shiver runs through Rhys. "When I've got one hand between my legs and the other squeezing my breast." She demonstrates the last, and Rhys watches with hunger as her hand goes over her own chest.
"Fuck," he bites out, and picks up the pace a little.
"When I've got you curled around my mind and showing me that you're touching yourself too."
Rhys speeds up again.
"But mostly, no," she says, barely able to speak now. "No, nothing feels as good as when you're fucking me senseless."
And Rhys can't argue with that. He forgets his self-control completely and loses himself in her, in her body, in the intoxication of the sounds that she makes when he's inside her. The irony of his sentence to a remote location is that for once, they are able to make as much noise as they want and every time Feyre moans Rhys thinks he gets a little high.
By the time Rhys is close, they have started to breathe in tandem, and he locks his eyes on hers so that seconds later they are coming together. Rhys is breathless with the beauty of her, has always loved the look on her face when she climaxes, and suddenly the prospect of being locked up alone for three days seems mighty appealing.
Feyre sighs, eyes closed and chest moving deeply as she gets her breath back. Rhys draws out of her and then immediately misses her. He kisses her cheeks, her nipples, her stomach, and then without really thinking about it, closes his mouth around her clit and strokes it back and forth with his tongue.
Feyre sighs his name, and the sound of it is so sweet that he redoubles his efforts, until Feyre is rocking her hips to him and before he knows it, they're starting again.
Rhys thinks its going to be a very good three days indeed.
****
Little babies. Sigh I do love them so. Thank you my sweet anon for this lovely prompt.
Bonus: click here to see what Rhys's dark powers look like when they're still growing and trying to figure their shit out.
MASTERLIST
TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-loml @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @thebonecarver @rowaelinismyotp @loosingdreams @whythefuckdoiexist @inejsarrow @swankii-art-teacher @sjmships @courtofjurdan @teddytdr @positivewitch @thalia-2-rose @darling-archeron @rapunzel1523 @fairchildjace @philosophorumaurum02 @story-scribbler @allthecolorsneverseen @asteria-of-mars
108 notes
·
View notes
Text
This is just something that came from a different story I’m writing, so, it’s just a one shot. And it’s not really editted (sorry).
This is A/B/O, with Omega wwx and Alpha lwj, but honestly it doesn’t really show up much, like it’s not a focal point of the story for the most part, it’s just kind of, there. There’s minor NieLan, and past wangxian with hopeful future wangxian (hopeful future IMO), and it’s modern non cultivation!
Other than that, enjoy? And if you have questions feel free to hop into my inbox.
It had been years.
Five, to be exact.
Wei Wuxian wouldn't lie and say Lan Wangji never entered his mind, he did almost constantly. But he had long accepted he would never see the Alpha again. Lan Qiren had made it rather clear he was to never contact Lan Wangji again.
That hadn't been a pleasant conversation. Well. Argument.
For once Wei Wuxian was glad he was no longer in contact with the Jiangs, even if it wasn’t for long, he'd hate for them to have been involved. He's not entirely sure who's side Madam Yu would've been on, but he hoped she would've been on his. Although, if she was, he's not entirely confident Lan Qiren would still be walking around. Lan Qiren might be a hard ass, but he had nothing on Madam Yu.
He should write Nie Huaisang. See how the Jiang's are doing.
"Are you alright?"
Wei Wuxian blinks, brought back to the present, silently filing the idea to write Nie Huaisang for later, and looks up at Lan Xichen. Who he had just run into. Literally.
Wei Wuxian ignores the hand and stands on his own, "Perfectly. Just distracted. Sorry to bother you." Wei Wuxian says, nodding and turning, deciding he could get A-Yuan's candy later, after the milk. He had made it a few steps before Lan Xichen grabbed his arm. Wei Wuxian tenses, snapping around with a glare on his face before he registers that Lan Xichen isn't going to attack him. Not physically at least. So he lets the glare fall. "Sorry."
Lan Xichen drops his hand, "No, I should not have grabbed you. I apologize." An apology from a Lan. Maybe he died.
A-Yuan would be heartbroken. A-Yu probably doesn't know what Death is and probably wouldn't understand for a few years.
Lan Xichen was talking. Wei Wuxian should be listening, not thinking of his death. Lan Xichen smiles, as he normally does, "You were not listening."
"Sorry. My brain drifts, it pissed your uncle off to end, remember?" Wei Wuxian says, shrugging.
Lan Xichen nods, "Uncle seemed to anger easily around you, yes. I was wondering if you had the time, we could talk. Perhaps over tea?"
He can't ask for alcohol instead. For one, Lans don't drink. For two, he has to pick A-Yu and A-Yuan up in half an hour.
"I have a half hour, I guess we could finish up shopping and go to the Starbucks down the block." Lan Xichen's eyes tighten at the mention of Starbucks, which makes Wei Wuxian remember the heavily disturbed and deer-in-headlight look Lan Wangji had when Wei Wuxian dragged him there. Repeatedly.
Lan Wangji never seemed to get used to Starbucks.
None of the Lans seem to like it either.
Lan Xichen nods though, so Wei Wuxian does a U-turn to grab the candy he promised A-Yuan and then made a bee-line for the two other things he was missing. He loses Lan Xichen at some point, but when he gets to the check out, Lan Xichen is waiting by the door with a bag.
Wei Wuxian smiles at the Cashier, Mingyu, who seemed slightly concerned for him. But Wei Wuxian waves off the concern, even when Mingyu decides to ask, "Is he a friend or should I call security?"
Wei Wuxian considers this, Lan Xichen isn't a friend, but security isn't necessary. Wei Wuxian grins when he comes to a response, that's both honest and fun, "He's Daiyu's uncle." Wei Wuxian informs, finishing with his payment and taking his items. "See you in a week Mingyu!" Wei Wuxian calls as the other man is clearly trying to figure out how he hasn't met this uncle until now.
"A friend?" Lan Xichen asks as they walk down the road.
"Eh, more I'm a regular." Wei Wuxian shrugs. He only talks to Mingyu when he buys groceries. Not much other reason to talk to the teenager.
Especially since he tends to remind Wei Wuxian that, uh, he is only twenty-two.
That's not something he particularly likes to remember. Especially when he's on his way to pick up his kids. He looks older enough that none of the other parents comment on him being A-Yu and A-Yuan's brother, and none of them comment on the utter shame of having a child at seventeen. And presumably fourteen if A-Yuan was actually birthed from him. As he so often jokes, especially after A-Yuan learnt where babies came from.
A-Yuan thinks it's funny.
Wen Qing thinks it's stupid.
But it's meant to entertain the eight year old so it's not a problem.
"So you live around here." Lan Xichen comments, more to himself than to Wei Wuxian, and Wei Wuxian has to mentally curse himself. For five years, no Lan has known where he lived. No one from that life knew where he was except Nie Huaisang. And for all he can be a coward, Wei Wuxian knows he wouldn't have given away his location to anyone.
But he just confirmed to Lan Xichen that he lived in this town.
Fuck.
"What're you doing here?" Wei Wuxian asks, opening the door for Lan Xichen and gesturing for the man to enter the Starbucks. Lan Xichen gives him a tight smile and enters, clearly not liking being inside the store.
Tough. Wei Wuxian doesn't want to be having this conversation, neither of them get to be comfortable. Wei Wuxian follows Lan Xichen in, walking up to the register and ordering a drink with a smile before turning to Lan Xichen for his order. Which he gives with a tense smile. The barista nods, repeats the order back and then Lan Xichen pays, because this was his idea and Wei Wuxian would much rather be at home right now.
They amble over to a table to wait for their drinks to be made. Well. Lan Xichen got his at the till since it was just a Green Tea, but they have to wait for Wei Wuxian's. Might as well get this chat over with.
"The Nie have a lakehouse a mile out of town." Oh right. Oh fuck. "Mingjue and I are having a little vacation." Lan Xichen says in response to his earlier question.
"And you came to get some groceries."
"Just a little. Mingjue will be back for the rest." Lan Xichen winces when he sips at his tea, clearly not liking it. He sets his cup aside, "You know, Huaisang seemed very against us going to this partical vacation house."
Oh for fucks sake. "Huaisang's specialty isn't subtly." Wei Wuxian says with a shrug, then stands and gets his drink when the barista calls out his name.
Lan Xichen waits for him to sit back down. "No, it isn't. Might I ask, why Huaisang knows where you are when no one else does?"
"I don't like the Jin. I don't want to burden the Jiang. The Lan want nothing to do with me." Wei Wuxian shrugs, "Nie Huaisang is the only friend I have left." Outside of the friends he now lives with. Wei Wuxian sips at his flat white.
Lan Xichen's brows twitch in a furrow before smoothing out, "What do you mean we want nothing to do with you.
Wei Wuxian raises an eyebrow, "Was there a part of Lan Qiren's order that was unclear?"
Wei Wuxian's response only seems to confuse him further. "I believe, there has been some miscommunication." Lan Xichen suggests politely.
"Not really." Wei Wuxian refutes. "Lan Qiren told me to get the fuck out and never contact any of you again. Not much room for miscommunication."
"He said what?" Lan Xichen asks, sounding light and a little confused. But Wei Wuxian had spent enough time around Lan Wangji, and hence Lan Xichen since Lan Xichen was Lan Wangji's favoured company, to know he was getting very pissed off.
Huh.
Wei Wuxian shrugs, too little too late, in his opinion. It's been five years. "It was shortly after I left the Jiang, I went to stay with Lan- Wangji." Wei Wuxian catches himself before using the familiar address. Lan Xichen seemed to catch the slip up too. "Just for the night. The departure went a little more explosively than I meant for it to, I came to spend the night. Lan Qiren told me to leave and never return, that Lan Wangji wanted nothing more to do with me. Not to contact anyone in the family. Obviously I argued, but I had already argued with Madam Yu and Uncle Jiang that night, so, he won. I left. And then a week later he sent me two hundred thousand Yuan." That wasn't a pleasant night to remember. It wasn't a pleasant week. He found out he was pregnant, then the Wen shit happened, and he was moving across the country with Wen Ning and his family. Wei Wuxian shrugs again, drinking his flat white.
Lan Xichen's brow furrows slowly, and he shakes his head, "I'm sorry, Uncle told us nothing about this. All Wangji and I have known is that you left the Jiang and disappeared. Wangji certainly didn't say anything about not wanting your company anymore." Lan Xichen seemed offended at the very idea.
Oh.
Huh.
Lan Wangji doesn't hate him.
Oh fuck.
Lan Wangji doesn't hate him.
But he probably will. When he tells him about A-Yu.
Fuck.
"Is everything okay?" Lan Xichen asks, making clear that Wei Wuxian's panic is clear on his face.
"Um." Wei Wuxian swallows, twisting the paper cup in his hands, "In theory. If, uh, when I left, I had been uh," No. Nope. He can't think of a good way to say this. He checks the time. "Uh, do you have twenty minutes?"
"I'm supposed to meet with Mingjue in ten."
"Great. Uh. Meet me at the park with the giant octopus sculpture in fifteen, bring Da ge, I need to drop my groceries off at my house." Wei Wuxian doesn't wait for Lan Xichen to agree, picking up his groceries and hurrying out.
When he gets home, he dumps the groceries on the counter, giving Wen Qing a quick, "Lan Xichen's in town and he's metting A-Yu and A-Yuan, see you in fiften minutes. Thanks bye!" before running back out, not responding to her shout of 'what' that followed.
When he gets to the octopus sculpture, he doesn't have to wait long fo Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue to show up, thankfully. He bounces over to them, the nervous energy coursing through him a little too much to keep still. "Hi Dage."
"Wuxian." Nie Mingjue greets, as if Wei Wuxian hasn't been off the grid for five years and was still popping into his house every other weekend to do weird shit with Nie Huaisang.
Nice to know somethings don't change.
"What is it you wanted to show us?" Lan Xichen asks politely.
"Um, this way." Wei Wuxian takes them to the school, which was only a few minutes away.
"A school." Nie Mingjue deadpans.
Wei Wuxian looks at the other parents waiting, a few of them looking back at the group with furrowed brows. One of the mothers makes a very harsh 'come here' gesture, so Wei Wuxian turns to Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen, "Uh, I'll be right back. Don't move." He was clearly confusing the pair, but they nod so he rushes off to Mrs. Yang.
"Is that Daiyu's father? Other father?" Mrs. Yang demands, almost glaring at Lan Xichen.
"It's his older brother." Wei Wuxian corrects with a tight smile. "Please don't go yell at him."
"Oh, his family decides it's okay for you to raise a child for five years on your own, and I shouldn't yell?" Mrs. Yang demands, already gearing up to go.
"Uh, I'm, about to tell him Daiyu exists."
Mrs. Yang blinks, clearly taken aback. "Wei Wuxian." Wei Wuxian flinches at her tone, oh no. He's in trouble. "Did you not tell the Alpha family you were pregnant?"
"In my defence," because he needed one if he wanted to survive, "their uncle had already told me their family wanted nothing to do with me before he found out I had gotten pregnant. I don't think that opinion would've been changed in my favour. Given we were seventeen, and unmated."
Mrs. Yang hmphs, but nods. "Fine. But if he seems anything less than overjoyed, I'll be having words."
"Yes Mrs. Yang. Thank you." Wei Wuxian says, nodding. He meant it. Mrs. Yang was one of the more supportive parents. Like Granny Wen she had more or less started treating him like family.
It probably helped that her eldest was only two years younger than Wei Wuxian.
Wei Wuxian smiles and then hurries back to Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue as the elder grades started to be let out.
"I'm sorry, do you babysit?" Lan Xichen asks, clearly very confused. Nie Mingjue doesn't seem to be much better.
"Uh. Sometimes." Wei Wuxian shrugs, "Not today." His answer only served further confusion, but he wasn't paying much attention to the pair. Instead to his incoming missile.
"Xian-gege!" Wen Yuan yells, and Wei Wuxian picks up the eight-year old as the boy had launched himself at Wei Wuxian.
"A-Yuan! My, I think you've grown!"
Wen Yuan pouts, "You saw me this morning gege! I haven't grown at all!"
Wei Wuxian shakes his head, "Hmm, nope! You've grown a full inch! I know it."
"No! A-Yuan hasn't grown at all!" Wen Yuan counters, pouting more deeply. Ah, not in the mood to be teased today. Okay.
"Ah, ah yes. A-Yuan is correct." Wei Wuxian agrees, and puts A-Yuan down. "A-Yuan, this is Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue. They're old friends." Wei Wuxian introduces.
Wen Yuan was half through a bored wave when he actually looked at Nie Mingjue and his eyes utterly lit up. "You're so tall!"
Nie Mingjue barely blinked, very used to this reaction, but he seemed delighted at A-Yuan's very prescence. "Yes." Seeing as A-Yuan was practically vibrating, Wei Wuxian gently encourages him, and really that was all that was necessary before A-Yuan was attached to Nie Mingjue's leg and asking a million questions a minute.
Nie Mingjue seemed amused, and politely answered every question he caught.
With A-Yuan distracted, Wei Wuxian looks around the schoolyard for his other charge. Normally Daiyu would be attached to his leg by now. He finally spots her hiding by a tree, or, behind a tree. Her eyes widen when they meet his, and he waves her over. She hesitates, but eventually decides to come over. She walks, and then runs the last little bit, entirely hiding behind Wei Wuxian's legs, peeking a little to look at Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue.
Lan Xichen had frozen.
As expected, given Daiyu's golden eyes.
"Daiyu, this is Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen. Lan Xichen is your Bobo." Daiyu seemed very doubtful of that, making almost the exact same expression Lan Wangji did when Wei Wuxian had tried to convince him necromancy was a perfectly viable career path. Wei Wuxian would like to be offended. "I'm telling the truth."
"I thought Baba's family didn't want anything to do with us." Daiyu counters, doubt clear.
Ai. Who told her that? They didn't but still. "Who told you that?"
"Qing-jie."
...Ok. Wei Wuxian wasn't going to yell at Wen Qing for telling Daiyu that. Even if he wanted to. He was going to call her a liar.
"Well, she's wrong." Wei Wuxian crouches, turning to pick Daiyu up before standing straight. "It's complicated, and something I'll talk to you about in private. But Lan Xichen hasn't been able to be around until now."
Daiyu narrows her eyes but shrugs, "Fine." She didn't sound fine. But Wei Wuxian was not about to argue with a five year old. Not in public.
"Ok. Lan Xichen, Nie Mingjue, this is Wei Daiyu."
"Hi."
"Hello."
Daiyu looks at Wei Wuxian before responding, "Hello."
Well. This was awkward. And Lan Xichen looked like he was about to faint. "Why don't we go to the park?" A-Yuan seemed all for that idea. A-Yu looked like she'd rather not but when Wei Wuxian put her down she ran with A-Yuan toward the park. Wei Wuxian lead the adults in following after them.
While the kids played at the Octopus park, Wei Wuxian and Lan Xichen sat down at a bench, as Wen Yuan had dragged Nie Mingjue into their game.
"You were pregnant."
Wei Wuxian nods. "Lan Qiren didn't know. I, didn't know, until a week after that argument." Wei Wuxian shrugs, "I took Lan Qiren's words to heart, and didn't contact Lan Zhan about her."
"But you told Huaisang." Lan Xichen states.
Wei Wuxian blinks, "Huaisang doesn't know. I only talk to Huaisang for updates on the Jiang." And other things, but, mostly the Jiang. Once or twice Lan Wangji, but not all that often. He probably wouldn't take it well if Nie Huaisang sent back that Lan Wangji had gotten married.
"You, didn't tell anyone?"
"Nope. You're the first person outside of this town that knows." Wei Wuxian shrugs, and Lan Xichen just, stops. Wei Wuxian worries he's broken him, but soon enough Lan Xichen shakes his head.
"I can't- Apologies, this is a lot to process."
"How do you think Lan Zhan will react?" He's expecting anger. That's what some of the other omegan parents tell him to expect, whenever he considers sending Lan Wangji a message about Daiyu. No Alpha ever takes a pup being kept from them well. That's what they always say.
Lan Xichen's eyes widen, then he winces slightly, "I imagine, you are the not the one to worry about Wangji's reaction." Eh? "I'm sure he'll be happy. Saddened to have missed her first few years, but happy none the less."
Wei Wuxian opens and closes his mouth, trying to figure how to phrase his question before giving up and just asking, "Is he with anyone?"
Lan Xichen blinks and turns to look at Wei Wuxian, confused for a moment before understand dawns and he shakes his head slightly, "No. Uncle has tried for arrangements, but Wangji refuses them all. but I'm certain if you contact him, he'll be happy to see you." (Lan Xichen does not mention that he's rather confident Lan Wangji will immediately run to Wei Wuxian's side and help in raising Daiyu if Wei Wuxian even hints that that is what he wants. That seems a little much for right now.)
Wei Wuxian nods, not entirely believing that, but not willing to argue. "Now I just have to get Daiyu to come around." He did not expect his daughter to be the stickler here. Then again, Wen Qing had made her opinion on Lan Qiren years ago and wasn't quiet about it.
"She's aware of what Uncle said?" Lan Xichen asks.
Wei Wuxian shakes his head, "Uh, my friend, Wen Qing, yeah, that Wen Qing, I'm living with her family, long story, anyways, Wen Qing knows, and she holds very unfavourable opinions about it and she's not quiet about them. So, even if Daiyu doesn't know the full story, Wen Qing has given her enough to go on that she's formed her own, unfavourable opinion." Wei Wuxian shrugs, he couldn't really argue against it. Up until half an hour ago, he was rather confident the Lan's hated him and wanted nothing to do with him.
Now he has to explain a five year misunderstanding to his daughter.
Fun.
“I have to tell Wangji what you just told me.” Lan Xichen states, clearly not looking forward to that conversation.
Wei Wuxian shrugs, “It’s Lan Zhan, he’ll make a displeased face and not talk for a week.” It wasn’t that big of deal. Lan Wangji doesn’t do grudges, not really. At least, he didn’t five years ago.
Lan Xichen’s face was pure pity, which Wei Wuxian didn’t understand but it was gone before Wei Wuxian could formulate a question. “Do you want us around or shall we leave you alone?”
Oh. Wei Wuxian hadn’t considered that. “Um, maybe leave us alone for tomorrow? I guess I can give you my number and, if A-Yu is agreeable you guys can hang around. If it won’t mess up your vacation.” Because, who wants to spend their vacation with their little brother’s ex and daughter?
“That would be wonderful.” Lan Xichen says, pulling out his own phone and letting Wei Wuxian type in his number. Wei Wuxian then texts himself so he’d have the number on his phone too. “We should be getting back, I believe Mingjue wanted to stop by the butcher and they close at five.”
“Yes, they do. Because he needs to eat supper and spend time with his kids.” He kne Changpu, he was nice. Stodgy, but nice.
Lan Xichen nods and stands up, walking over to the playing trio and speaking quietly to Mingjue, he bids goodbye to the children, before the pair start walking away, they wave goodbye to Wei Wuxian, which he returns, and then they disappear.
Then, Daiyu runs up to him, “A-Niang, does that mean A-Die doesn’t hate us? Will he come live with us? Will we see Xi-bo a lot? Are they going to live with us? Like Granny and Uncle Four?”
Fuck.
Upon returning to the cabin, Lan Xichen’s day wasn’t going any better. Nie Mingjue was cooking supper, so Lan Xichen was alone with the decision to call Lan Wangji about Wei Wuxian. Obviously, he would. How much to say though?
Wangji, as it turns out, would make that decision for him.
After exchanging greetings, Lan Xichen barely got out, “So I ran into Wei Wuxian today in the city near where Mingjue and I are vacationing.” Before the call was dropped. Lan Xichen blinked, staring at his phone where it said ‘Call Ended’, meaning Wangji hung up on him. Lan Wangji hung up without a word. Without letting Lan Xichen finish. He was never so rude. He normally at least made a sound to indicate a goodbye. Nie Mingjue laughed at him when Lan Xichen explained why he was so flabbergasted.
Lan Wangji showed up the next morning.
#Wei Wuxian#Lan Xichen#Nie Mingjue#A/B/O#wwx#lxc#nmj#cql#mdzs#Modern Au#my writing#my fics#Wei Daiyu#I forget the characters for her name but I have them written somewhere#She’s like#my Wangxian go to child for any fics Im writing where they have a child aside from lzs#I haven’t posted in forever#I don’t remember how I used to tag these#Five Year Misunderstanding
31 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fanfic about Taehyung from BTS. Tarot based.
"One day and one fight"
It was almost a normal morning.
Only the sun shone brighter than usual, it was much easier on the soul. A little nostalgia led me far into the depths of my consciousness, throwing up pictures from my memory.
On a morning like this, you want to breathe easier until you remember that you quarreled with your wife yesterday.
The understanding of the stupidity of the dispute, the desire to explain things increase along with irritation. "Did you have to blame me for everything?" The guy thinks, getting up hard from the bed. Time is gone. He will take her as if she were peeled.
If the hell he didn’t apologize, then her resentment for a long time. But he also pleaded not guilty. Damn pride.
- Fuck! - the guy shouted maliciously, throwing a pillow at the wall, breaking some kind of terribly expensive vase donated by his parents. With a groan, sinking back onto the bed and realizing that another scandal awaits him. - I'm not fucking human or what? I had a crazy day too!
Memories of yesterday's quarrel, drove through the memory like a dump truck.
All loud insulting and caustic statements. Thank you all for the good memories. He swallows a lump of resentment and dials an emergency number. After a short beep, a familiar female voice was heard in the receiver:
- Mom, what should I do? - quietly, overpowering himself, he calls the one who will solve all his problems.
***
Hours later, Taehyung walks over to the restaurant where his mother has made an appointment for them. Or she just threw off the address, he didn’t go into it, he just knew that everything would be fine when he found her, looked into her eyes, and explained everything.
He enters the hall, slowly looking around, pulling the mask over his face. He sees her for a long distance, and goes to her. "Found", he thought, and walked with a brisk step. "The day seems to be getting better."
- I brought you a latte and a croissant. A pleasant-looking man in a business suit sits down beside her, a sweet smile on his lips.
Everything inside turns over in misunderstanding, and the hope that it seemed. All feelings scream that this should not be so. The head is empty, and the guy himself sits down on the next table unnoticed.
"Yes, what's wrong?" He looks at his thoughts, rudely cutting off all the voices in his head, literally freezing in place. Ordering not to move, but for now just listen.
- I checked your documents, in principle everything is clean. Can take the matter to court. The property is yours. I guarantee.
Taehyung doesn’t understand how his heart can collapse down, but it seems that he is no longer in his chest. He does not even notice how he turns pale under the mask, trying to calm down and control himself.
"So you collected money not for a trip, and you collected all the documents ... For this. That's a bitch."
With the last of his strength, he tries to leave unnoticed, not noticing the man who is seeing him off with a sly look.
Leaving the restaurant, immediately getting into the car, the guy tries to write something to the very one that threw him so hard, and they made all sorts of promises to that fucking priest.
He spits on the case, after a couple of incoherent attempts, going to the inbox reading messages from work, and about the possible move that she so dreamed about.
- Your mother, for whom I tried? He is typing through clenched teeth, putting the last full stop.
"I actually thought that we would go together"
"But you don't deserve this bitch"
"so that I don't see you anymore at MY home, damn it"
"Tomorrow, what would you come and pick up your things"
"you can keep the gifts for yourself, whore"
Without waiting for an answer, he transfers... "his already ex" wife to the black list, and does not even understand where he is going. He does not know how he breaks the car, and how he ends up in some kind of bar, tipsy to zero. He checks his wallet and phone, and doesn't resist being led into a taxi.
He doesn't know where he is, he doesn't even know the girl he's kissing. And he's unlikely to know. The thirst for revenge is still seething in his veins when the phone rings, and he reluctantly picks up the phone, moving his tongue barely.
- Yes, uncle? - Damn, he's not my uncle now. "What is he doing here?" - Did you want to ask something? - Immediately turning to the point, the guy says.
- What are you and where are you doing? What kind of donkey are you?! - A loud cry knocks out all the alcohol completely, there remains only an unpleasant cold on the back. "Something happened."
- Your wife is in intensive care and you are drinking there?! Are you completely nuts?! - Undisguised panic in the voice of an adult man was transmitted to him. Taehyung immediately jumped out of bed, and running down the stairs was already calling a taxi, thinking that he would run faster.
All his thoughts are only in that moment. "If I", "why did I leave."
- Please, let me not be late... - He mentally went through all the gods, the universe, the cosmos and whom he could think of.
At the entrance to the hospital, the guy is met by his mother, who says that now everything is in order, when she sees her son's pale face and shaking hands. He lets go a little, but the guilt gnaws from the inside, burning through the organs. He is holding on with all his might so as not to cry, in front of the entire congress of relatives.
“God Taehyung, when did you want to tell us?”
- So you got so drunk about this, God guys, little children.
Everyone started chirping, talking. There was no tension, no grief and no sorrow. The puzzled boy did not understand what was happening until his mother whispered in his ear:
- 3 months. If you bring her to this point again, I will break all your hands so that I can’t use the phone. - She kicked him lightly with her palm in the direction of the ward, and then he went on cotton legs himself. Now not understanding what comes from the word at all.
- Baby, how are you? - he went to the bed, looking at the fragile figure of his wife, swallowing a lump of guilt, fears, and in general everything that he experienced during this fucking day.
- Better than it could be. - An icy look and the same voice.
- Sorry. - Not knowing what to add or say, he just says the first thing that comes to mind. Something that needs to be said a long time ago. - My contract was terminated.
- What?! - she screamed in disbelief, looking indignantly at the guy. - Today? You on this...
- No, because you were going to divorce me. And grab the house.
- Em. This is a legacy.
- Why didn't you tell me?
- This was a surprise. When did you want to tell me?
- All two months, I honestly wanted to, but you planned to go on vacation like that. I could not.
- Two months. Are you kidding me? - The girl jumped out of bed as if she wasn’t lying pale in the hospital and shot a pillow into the guy. What do we live on then?
- Well, I actually told you yesterday to be more economical, but you ... - The guy stopped mid-sentence, realizing that an extra word would be said in vain. - In general, we are bankrupt. Your legacy by the way in the subject.
The girl sat back down on the bed, resting her hands on her knees. She was used to shocking gifts, but this was the first time. He had never been so irresponsible about money and everything in general. "What's happening to him?" - thought the girl hard looking at her husband.
- Mmm... I was offered to move to California, and I already found an agency. They paid a penalty. The first time will be difficult... But I hope...
- You're hiding too much from me, idiot.
#bts tarot#jungkook tarot#taehyung tarot#bts asks#kpop tarot#bts astrology#kpop astrology#taehyung#jungkook#suga#rm#hoseok#j-hope#jin#jimin#bts taehyung#bts jungkook#bts suga#bts rm#bts hoseok#bts jin#bts jimin#my readings#future spouse
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
New Angel - Chapter 16
story masterlist [x]
chapter 1 ☆ chapter 2 ☆ chapter 3 ☆ chapter 4 ☆ chapter 5 ☆ chapter 6 ☆ chapter 7 ☆ chapter 8 ☆ chapter 9 ☆ chapter 10 ☆ chapter 11 ☆ chapter 12 ☆ chapter 13 ☆ chapter 14 ☆ chapter 15
NOTES
☆ written from Niall’s pov
☆ i don’t proofread, I never do, I hate it.
☆ AU comedy/fluff/smut/romance
☆ 2.6k
☆ i accept requests and ideas for this story, so message me in my inbox!
☆ if you want to be notified when this story is updated (or be taken off the update list) CLICK HERE
NIALL
I blinked a few times as I stared at my best friend who was simply raising her eyebrows at me with a begging face. It was the third day of us spending time together and if I wanted to be honest, I was not completely over the fact that we had seen Grace the day before. I couldn't take it out of my mind of all evening and Millie and I didn't have a long night. We just ate, watched a movie, and I went to bed. I knew my friend was totally aware of what was happening and I suspected that she didn't mention it because she also needed some time alone.
Last night, right after we ate, Louis had came back. He was alone, fortunately, but he barely talked to us. He just grabbed a bag of chips and locked himself in his room, resulting in Millie and I both a bit confused, angry and sad after seeing the person we still had feelings for on the same day.
That's why today, I wanted to do something else and stop thinking about Grace for a while, but Millie's suggestion was not something I would have thought about, ever.
"Mill, I can't dance."
"Oh yea, I'm not really good either. That's why they call it a dance class."
I rolled my eyes and sighed but she took a step closer, intertwining her fingers together in an attempt to beg me.
"Please please please!" she continued, moving her chin up as she sent me puppy eyes. "I have a wedding to attend in a few weeks and I'm gonna have to dance!"
"Like the way you dance in sweatpants in the living room?" I joked, my lips curling into a smirk.
"Exactly! What if a pretty boy asks me to dance and I keep stepping on his feet?" she argued, getting closer again and tilting her head before grabbing my arms. "Please, Niall! Maybe I'll dance with the love of my life! Do it for the pretty boy!"
Her arguments made me chuckle and I rolled my eyes. "Fine, fine! But I don't do it for the pretty boy, I do it for my best friend!"
"How lucky are they!" she replied, smiling more.
"It's you, silly!"
Her eyes roamed on my face for a few seconds and I held my breath when she threw herself in my arms. Her arms wrapped around my neck, choking me slightly as she jumped a bit, bringing me up and down with her.
"Thank you thank you thank you thank you!"
"Yea yea," I replied, trying to hug her back without much success. "Now please I can't breathe!"
I cleared my throat when she pulled away and frowned for half a second at the odor reaching my nose. It smelled like candies, a mix of sugar and fruits, and I just smiled when I remembered how much Millie loved candies. She had probably eaten a few not so long ago and the smell had stayed. I didn't know why but I liked it. It was a good change from the very expensive perfume Grace was wearing.
"What do I have to wear?"
"Clothes, preferably." she let out with sarcasm, a smile on her lips.
"You're missing out, I look amazing naked."
She chuckled and rolled her eyes. "Yea, I'll never know." she pointed out, making my lips curl more. "Just bring comfortable shoes, I guess."
I expected the evening to be long and boring, but dancing with Millie was actually quite entertaining, like everything we did together. I grabbed her hand and pulled her closer to make her twirl, and surprisingly, the movement was graceful and in perfect rhythm. She ended up facing me with a large grin as I stopped her with my hand on her waist. She laughed, shocked by what we had just accomplished, but I sort of thought it was only luck. In fact, I highly doubted we could do it again,
"That was great! You're so good at this!" she let out.
Her hand was on my shoulder and her thumb brushed lightly against the skin of my neck, making me shiver.
"Thanks, but I don't think we'll be able to do it again." I admitted with a chuckle, shaking my head.
"Don't be a party popper okay?" she argued, raising her eyebrows and tilting her chin down. "You need to stay positive!"
Once again, I rolled my eyes as the music started again. We tried dancing one more time but I had a hard time remembering where to put my feet and after a while, we just started laughing together. In the spur of the moment, I moved farther, holding her hand, before pulling her back to me and making her twirl again. When she stopped moving, facing me, my hand squeezed her waist slightly and she chuckled, her eyes getting bigger, once again amazed by how perfect that movement was.
"See? We did it again!"
"Okay, you were right, we're really good at this!"
"It's a gift!"
---
As soon as we stepped foot out of the building, I reached for Millie's hand and made her twirl again. The smile she was now permanently wearing grew even bigger as mine did the same. She giggled and squeezed my fingers before letting go of my hand and we walked to my car in silence.
I waited until she put her seatbelt on to start the car and as I drove, I could feel her gaze on me.
"Thanks for coming with me, Niall." she let out gently, leaning her head on the bench.
"No problem, T'was fun!"
I was surprised of it myself but this evening had been pleasant and my stomach actually hurt from laughing so much. I glanced at my best friend as I turned on our street and realized that it was always fun with Millie. We got along great and we made each other discover things that we definitely wouldn't have by ourselves. I liked that. I liked knowing Millie was helping me becoming a better version of myself, and I hoped I was helping her do the same thing.
"You promised you'd cook for me." she pointed out as I unlocked the door.
I chuckled, walking to the kitchen and opening the fridge. "A promise is a promise!" I let out loud enough for her to hear as she joined me. "What would you like to eat?"
"Spaghetti. I'm in that mood."
I got back up and turned to her, raising my eyebrows and sending her an amused smile. "Are you serious?"
"Very."
"I'm ready to cook for you and you literally ask me the easiest meal ever thought of?" I argued before shaking my head and chuckling low. "Alright!"
Millie sat on the counter while I cut a few vegetables for my sauce before boiling water. I handed a mushroom to my friend who grabbed it and quickly ate it, making me smile again.
"Are you gonna help me at all?"
"No."
"You're such a lazy ass!" I laughed, making her shrug.
"I was always the one cooking with Louis when you weren't there. I hate cooking."
I looked up at her and my lips curled on the right sadly. It was the first time on that day that one of us talked about a love relationship and it made me feel a bit down. We were doing so well without them, yet we couldn't help ourselves from mentioning them. It made sense, after all. We used to spend so much time with them that we could link many memories, activities, discussions and thoughts to them.
"You should add that to your list."
Millie scoffed but still sent me a small smile. "What? That I can't cook?"
"No, that he wouldn't do it."
Millie stole an other mushroom from the plate and I slapped her fingers quickly, making her frown as she let out a quick 'ow!'
"You need to find yourself a boyfriend or a girlfriend that can actually cook."
We remained in silence for a few minutes and my gaze kept moving from my sauce to my best friend. I could see emotions appear and leave on her face and somehow, I wished I could read her mind.
"Actually, Louis didn't do much of the things I enjoyed." she admitted, making me frown a bit. "I asked but most of the time he said no, or he canceled, or he didn't show up. That's why it means so much that you came with me today, Niall. No one else would have done that for me."
I felt my heart break a bit in my chest and turned to her, placing my hands on each sides of her thighs before tilting my chin up to look in her eyes. She seemed sincere, sad, and slightly embarrassed, and I moved closer until my stomach pressed against her knees.
"Louis is like a brother to me, but he was an ass with you. He never treated you like a real girlfriend and it's a fucking shame. Mill, you deserve so much better, do you realize that?"
Her eyes traveled gently on my face, her traits softened and she moved a lock of her behind her ear. I was staring at her, making sure she knew how serious I was, and she finally nodded very slowly.
"Now." I let out louder, pushing myself away with my hands before turning back to my sauce. "You taste this and tell me if it's good."
I grabbed a spoon quickly and gathered some sauce in it before bringing it up to her, my hand right under it in case it would drip. I stared at her as she tasted it slowly, licking her lips and tilting her head on the left.
"So? Verdict?" I insisted, raising my eyebrows up.
"Perfect."
"I would have been insulted if you hadn't used that word." I admitted with a smile. "This is the easiest thing to cook.”
Millie laughed and got down from the counter to help me prepare the plates and we finally sat together at the table. I ate slowly, watching her do the same, and when she leaned against her chair, I grabbed my beer and took a sip.
"Okay, it's time." Millie let out with a sigh, taking a paper out of her pocket and unfolding it.
I found it a bit funny that we both kept our lists in our pockets. I thought it would end up obsessing me or that I'd always feel it burn against my thigh but most of the time, I forgot about it to enjoy my day and I was pretty sure it was the same for my best friend.
I moved closer, leaning slightly on the table to see what she was writing.
'He can't cook'
'He never did things that would have made me happy'
I breathed in and reached out for the sheet, sliding it slowly to me. Millie looked up and frowned but I just had to do it. I didn't know much about the relationship Millie and Louis had together. I knew they were close, I knew sometimes they were very cute with each other, and that other times they barely acted like friends, but I didn't know how hurt Millie had been through this whole relationship and somehow, I felt like she didn't know either. I felt like she was just realizing that she was better off without him.
I took the pen from her hand and quickly scribbled something.
'You deserve better. You deserve the best.'
I added my name right next to it to say it came from me and when she read what I had written, she smiled fondly and tilted her head. I could read in her eyes how grateful she was and I mirrored the same loving smile to her for a few seconds before taking my own list out of my pocket.
"Okay, my turn."
I stared at the name of my ex girlfriend written on top and sighed low, closing my eyes for a few seconds. The more I thought about it, the more I found it ridiculous to go back and date someone who's only good point was that I actually loved her. Love was not everything and despite what everyone thinks, it doesn't heal everything, especially if the person you love is the person who also broke you.
What actually took me out of my thoughts was the sound of my phone. I jumped slightly, a bit too deeply lost in my thoughts, and searched my pocket quickly. I held my breath and felt my lips part when I saw the name written on the screen. Summer. Suddenly, I felt extremely guilty. Once again, I had sort of forgotten about her. I only had written one bad thing on the list about her and had been too focused on the way I felt for Grace and spending time with Millie to even take the time to message Summer. I could always pretend I just didn't want to bother her but I couldn't lie to myself.
'I miss you, I can't wait to see you'
The words made me swallow and the cute little emoji with hearts around its head made my heart skip a beat. Unfortunately, it was out of guilt, and not out of excitement.
"Who is it?"
"Summer." I replied low.
"Oh."
Millie had only whispered her word and it made me believe that she had realized too that we had barely talked about Summer in the past few days. I held my thumbs over the letters, not really sure what I should type back. I didn't want to lie, and I didn't want to say the truth either. It made me remember that I hadn't even touched myself at all since the last time I had sex with Summer and it surprised me.
"D'you miss her?"
I looked up at Millie who was raising her eyebrows at me, waiting for an answer. If I could be honest with someone, it was definitely her, and I shrugged a shoulder.
"I mean, not really." I confessed, making my best friend's lips part too. "I'm not to the stage that I actually have feelings for her, and sex with her is good but not... flabbergasting, you know? Plus, we've been super busy doing a bunch of things, I didn't really have time to miss her."
"But you had time to miss Grace."
I sighed and looked down before nodding. "I guess."
"You know, Niall, you don't have to justify yourself with me. You feel what you feel, and that's it. It's not like you can control your feelings. You can only control the way you react because of those feelings. That's what shows who you are as a person."
I closed my eyes and swallowed hard, trying to keep my tears in. It was the third day and I only had about four more to decide who I wanted to be with. Of course, I could always take more time, but how unfair to both girls would that be? I couldn't just keep them around for weeks until I make a decision. The problem was, I had no idea who I wanted to be with. I had no idea what to do.
"Tell me, Mill, which one should I pick?" I asked in a murmur.
I felt Millie's hand on mine and my eyes fluttered open to stare at her fingers squeezing mine.
"I can't choose for you Niall, you know that." she explained softly. "Just don't force yourself to do anything. It's your life. Your feelings. In the end, you need to take this decision for you."
I looked up in her eyes and held her hand tighter. She was right, I knew it, but I felt like I would never be completely happy, no matter which choice I'd make.
#niall horan#niall horan smut#niall horan fluff#niall horan story#niall horan love story#niall horan fanfic#niall horan fan fic#niall horan fanfiction#niall horan fan fiction#niall horan writing#niall horan au#my fanfics#newangel
49 notes
·
View notes
Note
ok i have an idea for a cbl blurb? could u do a blurb from harry’s pov from the night where he got drunk and how he felt when he saw yn and stuff? ik it already happened but i think seeing it from his viewpoint would be interesting!
Could be Lethal - Part Three (Harry’s POV)
“And every time I’ve held a rose,
It seems I only felt the thorns,
And so it goes, and so it goes,
And so will you soon I suppose...”
– And So It Goes, Billie Joel
HELLO EVERYONE! It’s been months since I’ve posted anything on here, but I randomly got the motivation to pick this up last week. I apologize in advance for my rusty writing skills! This ask has literally been sitting in my inbox for 10 months, so posting it actually feels quite cleansing. Anyway, here is a (long) blurb full of angst, angst, and you guessed it, angst! I hope you love Harry’s take of that night as much as I do. I love you all muchly, thank you for your ongoing love and support <3 xoxoxoxoxoxoxooox Tile
(3.8k word)
You and Harry were friends, with a capital ‘F’. Yeah, you’ve been sleeping in his bed for the past two months, and maybe your entire nervous system goes into hyperdrive when you’re in the same room, but that’s normal, right?
or
The one where you and Harry have an arrangement… of the cuddling sort.
See the CBL masterlist here!
WARNING: Detailed descriptions of heavy drinking
~~~
It was bullshit. It was all bullshit.
Harry was miserable. He knew it, his friends knew it, his family knew it… it seemed the only person who wasn’t picking up on his desperation was you.
You were a complete enigma to him. Sometimes, you were the warmest, most open person he’d ever met, indulging him with interesting conversations, stupid jokes, and even the occassional existential discussion. It was always difficult for Harry to truly open up to a person, having been jaded time and time again by people who weren’t able to look past his famous exterior.
That’s what makes it so much harder, he thinks. Knowing you properly, you knowing him properly. It made the moments where you were closed off harsher, colder, more difficult to read.
Since you left his house two days prior, he had done just about anything he could to take his mind off of you. He loved thinking about you, but he also hated thinking about you. It was tortuous and circular and he just wanted a brief moment of emotional respite.
No, he didn’t want respite, he needed it.
So he watched all three Lord of the Rings movies in a row, tested out a new stir fry recipe, spent way too much money online shopping, and even scrolled through the Humane Society website in a moment of weakness. But none of it mattered, because even if he could distract himself for a moment, you were still there, lingering in the peripherals of his mind like a song stuck in his head.
It was dizzying and mind-boggling, and Harry was at a loss for what to do. So when Sunday morning rolled around and it still felt like his lungs were being crushed into a ball, he started drinking.
It was only 8:00AM, but he bypassed the coffee cabinet and went straight to the fridge, pulling out a chilled bottle of champagne. The pop of the cork was as loud as a gunshot, but Harry didn’t even flinch, hardly registering the sound of it hitting the floor across the room as he rushed the bottle to his lips.
Bubbles fizzed past his tongue and dripped down his chin, sliding down his bare chest before puddling on the floor. He had to squeeze his eyes shut tightly at the burn of the carbonation, but each gulp sent pleasant tingles over his skin.
For the first time in ages, his mind felt numb. He didn’t necessarily feel good, but he didn’t feel miserable anymore, and that’s what mattered. He could close his eyes without seeing your smile flash in his head, he could listen to music without immediately relating the lyrics to you, and after his second bottle of wine, he was even able to brew a cup of coffee without thinking of you.
Okay, maybe he thought of you a little.
At some point, he passed out on the couch, cartons of Vietnamese takeout sitting cold on his coffee table. When his eyes finally blinked open, the sun had already started to set.
“Fuck,” he muttered to himself. There was a familiar ache pulsing behind his eyes, and he groaned loudly into his empty house. It never used to feel empty, but now you’d come and gone, and it was too late. You’d left your mark on his house and his coffee and his heart… so he drank more.
There was no more wine, so he started in on his collection of hard liquor, expensive bottles lined on top of his cupboards. Normally they were reserved for when he had guests over, but this fell into the realm of desperation. His sunken eyes scanned the glass bottles before settling on the cheapest of them, an unopened Maker’s Mark. It would do.
He was pouring a healthy sized glass of the whisky, and then suddenly he wasn’t. His heavy eyes blinked in confusion as he stared across the bar at the bartender, who was raising his eyebrows expectantly.
“That’ll be thirty-five pounds, mate,” the bartender said, “got roped into buying the first round, eh?”
“Yeah,” Harry grunted, glancing over his shoulder to see Thomas and Jessie watching him from a booth.
He doesn’t remember leaving his house, let alone coming to the pub with his friends. In fact, if he tried to think about it, his memory of the entire day felt fragmented, like pieces of a puzzle that didn’t quite fit together.
In his mind, this was a success. A full day gone without thinking about you or talking to you or seeing you. The clock behind the bar read 00:43 in red neon numbers. He took one of the shots quickly, signing the bill and taking the remaining five back to his friends.
“Harry mate, we told you we’re not getting pissed tonight,” Thomas groaned, “what’d you get six shots for?”
“What kind are they?” Jessie asked, wrinkling their nose.
“I dunno,�� Harry shrugged, setting the tray down directly in front of himself. His vision swayed to and fro, but he still managed to down another shot, disregarding the concerned look his friends shared. “It’s rum. If you don’t want any, that’s fine.”
“It’s a Sunday, mate,” Thomas reminded him gently.
“We’re at a pub, aren’t we?” Harry slurred. “Supposed to get drunk here.”
“You asked us to come here,” Jessie said slowly, “said you needed to talk to us about something.”
Harry blinked at them slowly, swaying slightly in his seat. He didn’t remember any of this.
“Actually, he said he needed a drink,” Thomas corrected, “I didn’t realize he meant twenty drinks.”
Another shot burned down his throat, and then everything was cold.
“Harry.”
His head was pounding. Every limb felt heavy. He couldn’t bear to open his eyes, already overwhelmed by the echo of Thomas’s voice reverberating off of the tile floors.
“Harry.”
He knew that somebody was trying to get his attention, but he just couldn’t. The alcohol had done its job for most of the day, keeping his brain muddled down and diluted just to spare him the pain of remembering. But now, it backfired, trapping him inside his own head with no way out, with nothing to do but remember. He could hear people talking in the background, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. It was as if he was underwater, slipping further and further down with each painful clench of his heart.
He felt a hand press against his arm, and jerked away, causing his stomach to twist. He didn’t want to be here anymore, and he certainly didn’t want to be bothered.
“G’way, Thomas,” he managed to grunt.
“It’s me.”
Your voice was clear as crystal to him, but he knew it couldn’t be real. You had left him, after all.
The image of you driving away from his house was burned into his memory, playing over and over again in slow motion. If he thought hard enough, he could even remember the way your body had felt beneath his, whining and squirming and gasping, just like he’d always dreamed about. He could remember the sunken expression on your face the next morning, the heavy silence of the car ride to the coffee shop. He could remember how he’d hoped, so badly, that you’d finally talk about it, this unspoken connection that could no longer be denied. Most of all, he remembers the way his heart dropped when you told him that you didn’t remember any of it.
Another gentle brush, this time along his hairline, and he managed to open his eyes just a sliver.
You looked amazing. Well, there were circles under your eyes, you were wearing your pajamas and slippers, and you were frowning in concern, but to Harry, you were the most beautiful thing.
“You’re here… y’really here….” he sighed.
You were crouched in front of him, holding a plastic cup of water, and all he wanted to do was pull you into his chest. You looked sleepy and cosy, just like you always did when you stayed over. Before he could reach out to pull you close, you were putting the rim of the cup against his bottom lip.
He took it, grateful for the relief it provided his dry mouth. For the first time since he came to, he took in his surroundings. He was in a single stall bathroom, curled on the floor next to the toilet. The walls were an ugly pale yellow, while the floors were white, making the streaks of dirt and grime more noticeable than ever. Thomas was leaning against the sink across the room, watching you as you tried to get him to finish the cup.
“Y’look so pretty, always look so good,” Harry slurred, “just wanna snuggle, like we always do.”
He loved the way your mouth dropped open. Everything about you was endearing, really. He watched as you twisted your head to say something to Thomas, water sloshing around in the cup when you nodded your head quickly. Thomas left immediately after, but Harry hardly even noticed.
When you turned back around to face him, he felt blinded. Despite the dark circles under your eyes, they’re bright and they pierce through him just like always. He loves the color of your skin and the shape of your nose and the little crease that forms between your eyebrows when you’re anxious. He thinks he could probably paint you with his eyes closed.
Warmth licked across his skin when you brushed your fingertips against his forehead, tucking a stray lock of hair back into place. Harry leaned into your touch, unwilling to let the moment pass too quickly.
“Can you try taking a sip of water, H?” You tilted your head. “For me?”
He could have laughed, had he not been so nauseated. He would do anything for you normally, but he really did feel awful. “G’na make me sick,” he insisted, wrinkling his nose at the cup in your hand. Even though he could hardly focus, his eyes zeroed in on the faded X scrawled in sharpie on the back of your hand, a souvenir from your night out at TAVERN. He had a matching mark on his hand, and he dreaded the moment the ink would wash off fully. Just another thing forgotten.
He just wanted you.
He hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but the look on your face told him that it had slipped out. There was no way he regretted it though, not with you right in front of him. Not in this state of mind.
“It’s gonna make you feel better, and then we can go home,” you urged softly, scooting a tiny bit closer to him.
Home. When he thought of home, he thought about mornings in his house, sunlight filtering in through the blinds and leaving shadowed stripes across your skin. Home was the way you squinted your eyes tighter together right before waking up. Home was you at his kitchen table, going off at him about not doing his dishes.
“Y’coming home w’me?” He managed to say. Your eyes softened.
“Only if you drink this whole cup,” you lifted it up to him once again, gingerly tilting his head up with a finger on his chin. Even though he felt like his stomach would combust if tried to swallow anything, he allowed you to help him drink some water. Some sloshed messily onto his shirt, but it felt sobering. You met his eyes for a moment, “is that good?”
“I’d do anything for you.”
If you asked him to drink water, he would drink water. He would drink an entire ocean of water. It was achingly clear to literally everybody but you. He could tattoo your name over his heart and you still wouldn’t see.
You gulped loudly, but didn’t say a word, simply prompting him to take another sip of water. He wished more than anything that you’d say something. Make some kind of facial expression. He just wanted a signal, a sign, that you felt anything towards him; disgust, affection, pity.
He was sure you must pity him.
Harry drank the rest of the water, cheeks burning as he asked you for a refill. He was still drunk, but the fog had cleared enough for him to sit up straight without feeling like he was going to hurl. He watched you refill the cup in the sink that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in decades, but that was honestly the least of his concerns.
“Y’must think I’m pathetic,” he grumbled, squeezing his eyes shut and tilting his head back against the wall. “Can’t lose you.”
“You haven’t lost me,” he heard you say quietly.
But it felt like he had. Because even though you were friends, it wouldn’t be the same if he couldn’t fall asleep to the sound of your soft exhales. It wouldn’t be the same if he couldn’t feel that rush of excitement when you sneakily texted him under the table on nights out. Having you at a distance could never be enough.
“Harry…” you sighed, rubbing your eyes, “why did you drink so much tonight?”
If your obliviousness hadn’t been so devastating, he would have laughed. How could you sit here with him, look into his eyes, and not see that his heart was entirely in your hands? How could he explain anything to you if you hadn’t already seen it?
So he wouldn’t try. Not right now.
He mustered up the strength to push up onto his knees, managing to stand up fully with your steady grip on his arms. He took one shaky step as his head spun, and felt your arms snake around his waist to keep him balanced. Without even thinking about it, he wrapped his arm over your shoulder, reveling in the feeling of having you so close as you helped him out of the toilet.
You brought him to a stop in the main room by the bar, and he couldn’t help but bury his nose into the top of your head. You smelled just like you always did. It had only been a few nights, but your scent was already fading on his bedsheets.
“Y’smell like lavender,” he hummed, squeezing your arm lightly, “s’like you’re tryin; t’torture me…. So pretty.”
It really was torture, having you hold onto him as you both walked out of the pub. You were distracting, with your warm skin and soft hands. Each step was difficult; his feet were heavy as anvils and he just wanted to curl up right here on the sidewalk.
Just as he was considering plopping down on the pavement, he heard the familiar beep of your car opening. He closed his eyes once he was sat in the passenger seat, feeling you fuss over his seatbelt. He flinched slightly when you slid a cold water bottle between his knees.
Harry blinked, and then suddenly you were buckled in behind the steering wheel, poking his arm and peering at him with tired eyes. “Can you stay awake for me, H? Just till we get to your house, okay?”
“Y’coming to my house?”
You were so good to him, all the time. By the looks of your attire, you were ready to be in bed hours ago, yet here you were, patient as ever.
“Yes, I’m taking you home,” you said through a yawn.
“Miss having you at my house,” Harry exhaled. He didn’t even know what he was saying really, just the same thoughts and memories circling through his mind like planets around the sun, all them centered on you. “My sheets don’t smell like you anymore.”
Suddenly, he felt hot all over. His trousers were too scratchy against his skin, his palms felt clammy, and the longer you stayed silent on the other side of the car, his stomach started turning. In an effort to cool off and calm down, he let his head fall against the window, the cool glass soothing his skin.
Drunk or not, he was trying to tell you how he feels, he was constantly trying to tell you how he feels… and you didn’t say a word. You never did. It was so frustrating that he found himself biting back tears.
Finally, after what felt like hours, you cleared your throat. “You can’t…” your voice cracked, “you can’t say things like that, Harry. It hurts me when you say things like that.”
“I don’t wanna hurt you,” Harry managed to say. “But it’s the truth.”
He was so confused. How on earth could you be hurting when he was sitting here with his arms wide open? Was he so repulsive that the mere thought of being with him caused you pain, somehow?
He was too drunk for this.
Luckily, you seemed to be on the wavelength. “Let’s just… not talk,” you said, shoulders slumped.
Harry was feeling awfully dejected himself. He’d spent the last few days trying to cope with his complicated feelings, and now he was back at square one. Every time he thought he knew where the two of you stood, you would say something vague and he would start all over. Your relationship was like a house of cards; delicate, fragile, and knocked to the ground with the slightest shift, the tiniest gust of wind.
The headache started out small, but by the time you pulled your car into Harry’s driveway, he was feeling like he might keel over. Somehow, he was simultaneously drunk and hungover. If he was going to make it up the stairs to his room, he was going to need something in his stomach, and water that wasn’t from a pub bathroom.
It was humiliating enough that he’d needed you to help him from the car, but upon entering his house, he nearly kicked his shoe through the living room window, grumbling about toast. He knew he’d been less than impressive tonight, but perhaps this was what you needed -- seeing him at rock bottom -- to finally open up and have a real conversation about what you could be.
When he woke up in the morning, he would be sober, and he would be ready. He would make you coffee like he always does, and maybe he’d even run out and pick up fresh pastries.
“Want some toast,” he said, though he was fairly certain he’d said it once already.
You were standing in front of him, toes just inches apart, and it felt instinctive to place his hands on your waist and pull you in. The silk pajama top you were wearing was cool against his hands, but he could feel the heat of your skin underneath, the frantic thumping of your heart against your ribcage tickling his fingertips.
Your hands were on his shoulders to keep him steady, but he was suddenly feeling more sober than he had all night. All day, really.
Harry slid his hands further behind you, locking together behind your back. Having you close felt incredible. It hadn’t even been three days since he last saw you, yet every atom in his body was craving your touch.
“You, um,” he felt your shaky whale against his collar bone, “you have to let go of me if you want me to make you toast.”
Letting go of you felt physically impossible, so instead, Harry dipped his head down and rested his forehead against yours. The anticipation was excruciating as he waited for you to do what you always did: sink into his arms, wrap yourself around him, soothe him to sleep with the weight of your head on his chest.
Fissures cracked through his heart when you pushed him back, taking a single step back that may as well have been a mile. Suddenly, the air all around him felt cold, the room felt darker, the silence felt louder. He took a deep breath in, but still felt like he was suffocating.
“Do you really not remember?”
He needed to know. He had done everything in his power to think about anything else, but had somehow ended up here, standing face to face with you. He wonders if this is how it was supposed to be, if throwing you together over and over again was the universe’s ultimate plan, if all of this misery would be worth it in the end.
He’d experienced heartbreak before, but this was something else. And when you choked out, “Harry, please don’t make me say it,” in the smallest voice he’d ever heard you use, he knew that he could write millions of records about the pain of this moment, and still never do it justice.
“You remember, don’t you?”
All you did was nod your head once, but he suddenly felt drained. Maybe it was the full day of heavy, reckless drinking… or maybe it was the realization that things really might not work out. He still wanted to try, though. Even though you’d left the other day, there were countless other times you had stayed. For months you’d been coming over in secret, coming out of your shell and showing him how amazing you really were. That had to count for something; there had to be a reason.
Coffee. He would make coffee in the morning and the two of you would fix everything.
“Should we head to bed? ‘S getting kind of late, y’must be exhausted.”
You really did look tired, your eyes rimmed with red from yawning over and over, back hunched and shoulders slumped. He was feeling knackered himself, and was more than ready for this night to be over.
“Actually… I think I’m gonna head back home,” you gulped. Harry felt like he’d been slapped, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. It’s as if you’d turned to sand; there one moment and slipping through his fingers the next.
“You don’t want to stay?” Harry tried to keep his voice even, but even he could hear how it wavered. He clenched his jaw to keep from crying.
“I just… have to go home,” you said, looking everywhere but at him.
He waited for you to say something else, but instead watched as you hoisted your purse further up onto your shoulder and walked out the door. Shell shocked, he stood there frozen, even as your headlights disappeared down the street.
A long breath blew past his lips as he finally moved to lock his front door, any hope of you walking back through it dashed by the way you’d walked out for a second time.
Harry likely would have benefited from a glass of water and pain medication, but with a buzzing brain and a shattered heart, all he could manage was to pass out on the couch fully clothed, dreaming about what might have been if you had just stayed.
~~~
As always, let me know what you think! I love talking to you <3 xoxoxoxox Tile
93 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hurts Me To Watch You Fading [Spideypool Fic]
Was going through the prompts that have been in my inbox for AGES when I got a sudden burst of inspiration to write my boys again. So even though it’s been *looks at watch* nearly two years fuck since I’ve written fanfic... here’s some hurt/comfort for y’all (or if you’d rather read on ao3)
Anon asks: Hi! I just read your fic with peter being super adorable in his deadpool hoodie and saw you're taking prompts. Seeing as you're asexual (like me!) I was wondering if you would write asexual peter having to explain to wade that he doesn't initiate sex because it's just not something he really thinks about much and not because of how wade looks
(Content warning for Wade being self-conscious about his body/scars)
Somehow Wade always found his way to Peter’s dorm room at the end of a long hard day of work. Which for Wade meant an early morning raid ending with several dead bodies, including his own a few times, but by the end Wade was in one piece and his suit was in less pieces and all the bad guys were dead. Next he needed to get all the blood out of his suit earning him another blank look of disappointment from his local definitely-not-a-front dry cleaners. They never questioned his circumstances and he didn’t much care what they got up to as long as people weren’t dying, leaving them with a silent, mutually beneficial relationship.
Now he was in Parker’s dorm wearing comfy jeans and a hoodie that mostly covered his face if he lowered his head, something he did quite often. He didn’t entirely mind his appearance anymore, having gotten used to freaking himself out in mirrors the past few years. But it was other people’s reactions that made him feel like crap. The looks of disgust strangers gave him as he passed, the people who grabbed their kids and moved to the other side of the street, the ones who laughed at and mocked him hit a little too close to his time being experimented on. Sure he could easily use humor more efficiently than the assholes who mocked him to put them in their place but humor as a defense mechanism only went so far and the hurt still went deep.
What was getting to him lately was his relationship with Peter. They had officially started dating several months ago, even if they had been flirting heavily on the random patrols as Spider-Man and Deadpool. But then Peter told him his secret identity and kissed him through his mask so tenderly and Wade didn’t think he could be more in love. Except they hadn’t gotten much further than tender kisses or cuddles. Not that Wade minded, it was comforting to be held the way Peter held him. He’d never had someone who he could truly let his guard down around, who was okay with him being soft and quiet.
But every time they started to makeout, to get to the hot and heavy stuff, Peter would carefully untangle them, change the subject, shy away from any skin being shown, and they would watch cartoons or get food or anything other than being that kind of intimate with Wade.
Not that he minded at first, Peter was a shy dude. He wasn’t like so many college guys who partied all the time and hooked up with whoever. He was a shy nerd and he was a superhero on the downlow, of course he wouldn’t have time for that but he also didn’t have any interest in it either. But Wade was starting to feel like Peter didn’t have any interest in him.
Staring at himself in Peter’s mirror sans mask told him exactly why someone would have no interest in getting hot and heavy and naked with him. He’s had that many times. Flirting with a girl at the supermarket only for her to freakout once he peeled his mask up, hitting on a guy in a dark bar only for him to be disgusted once they moved into the light. It was a common occurrence for him. He thought Peter would be different. He was different. He didn’t shy away when Wade took his mask off and kissed him, but maybe he was good at faking it? Maybe he could deal with his face but the rest of his body was too much. His skin was rough and patchy, awful to look at and even less appealing to touch.
He rubbed his hand over his face and head, shaking off his hood to get a good look at the mess he usually hid from most people. Everyone had their limits. Perhaps this was Parker’s.
The key in the door alerted Wade to Peter’s return. Quickly he pulled his hood back up and retreated to the bed, ducking his head just as Peter walked in through the door. He looked somewhat surprised, but he relaxed immediately.
“Hey,” Peter said softly. A smile tugged at his lips as he closed the door gently behind him.
He seemed pleased to see Wade. Genuinely content with having him in his room. Nothing was matching up in Wade’s mind.
“Hey Peter…” Wade started but trailed off before he could ask the question. He hated being in this position. He wished he could know the truth. For Peter to tell him he was disgusted by his wrecked body without prompting so he could crawl back to his old life and forget about this magical interlude.
But Peter being Peter, he noticed something was off immediately. “What’s wrong? You almost never call me Peter, did something happen?”
He was closer now, trying to get a good look at Wade’s face but Wade angled his face away. That got him a sigh but Peter respected his boundaries and stepped away, leaning against the wall instead.
“Do you want to talk to me about it?”
Wade shook his head, nodded, and then shook his head again. Screw Peter for being such a good guy, a respectful person, such a sweetheart. It was ruining what his brain was hooked on as the clear truth. Maybe Peter wasn’t disgusted with him but what else could it be?
“I’m not really pleasant to look at, huh?” Wade said instead, unable to confront Peter directly.
Peter pushed off the wall but stopped himself from coming closer. “Did someone say that to you?”
He sounded angry, on Wade’s behalf. Once again messing with Wade’s doubts.
“All the time, but that’s not-” Wade chewed his lip, took a deep breath, and took the plunge.
He took his mask off, revealing his unmasked face and head. Peter didn’t flinch, didn’t look away. He was frowning a bit but not at Wade’s appearance it seemed. It wasn’t as though this was the first time Peter saw his face but it wasn’t a common thing between them. Wade preferred to simply roll up his mask most of the time for their kisses, not wanting to feel too self-conscious.
“Do you- are you-” Wade hated this feeling, wishing he could go back to witty one-liners and existential statements that bewildered those around him. Feelings did terrible things to his dialogue. “I know I look like ground up hamburger meat, Petey. I’m a big boy, you can tell me the truth if you think I’m too gross.”
Wade was aiming for humor, swerved into something a little more bitter, and he cursed himself for putting that hurt look on Peter’s face.
“Wade I don’t think-” Peter started, he furrowed his brows and moved closer but slowly, as though Wade would run away if he was startled. Not a bad call. Wade was pretty close to bolting actually. But Peter crept close, slowly, and stopped a few paces away. Wade wanted him to come closer, stand right between his legs on the bed so Wade could pull him in close and hold him until he wasn’t upset. But he ruined that.
“We don’t do anything more than kissing. You never want to- I get it,” Wade laughed, tugging on his hoodie. “It’s not pretty under here Pete, no one ever wants to look at it. It won’t kill me if you tell me you don’t want to see it or touch me.” He wasn’t lying. It would hurt like hell but nothing could kill him. Unpleasant side-effects of looking the way he did.
Peter surprised him by doing exactly what Wade wanted. He moved closer, slotting himself between Wade’s legs and putting his hands on Wade’s shoulders to get him to look up.
“I’m such an idiot,” Peter mumbled, sounding mad at himself. Probably for not being able to hide his disgust, for making Wade realize exactly what was going on. Now he’d have to let Wade down. That’s simply the way the world worked for guys like him.
“I should have told you a while ago but, I dunno, I was scared I guess?”
Here it comes, Wade closed his eyes to brace himself for the impact.
“I don’t initiate anything more because I’m asexual. I don’t really, I dunno, have a lot of interest in sex? I mean maybe I could be if we talked about it but it’s never really on my mind. It’s got nothing to do with how you look, Wade. I like how you look just fine. I think you’re pretty cute, that’s part of why I’m dating you. Also your muscles are amazing, the general aesthetic of your body and you lifting me up? That’s about as close to sexual attraction as I’ve ever come.”
Wade felt his world tilt and it was entirely unexpected. “Wait you’re-” All of Wade’s otherworldly knowledge hadn’t prepared him for that possibility. That almost never happened.
Peter leaned down, bringing both his hands to cup Wade’s cheeks. “You’re not disgusting, Wade. And anyone who says that will get their mouth webbed shut.”
Wade nuzzled into Peter’s hand, “That’s not the best use of superhero powers.”
“I’m defending the innocent, hush it’s the perfect use of my powers.”
“Innocent?” Wade arched his brow, staring up at his boyfriend who actually wanted him.
“Okay, well… maybe not innocent in the traditional sense but you look the way you do because you survived, you fought through hell and you got out, and that’s pretty damn attractive.”
Wade wrapped his arms around Peter’s waist, pulling him in closer. Peter laughed, leaning in to kiss him soundly on the lips. “So, opening to talking about it?”
“Should have known you’d have a one track mind,” Peter huffed into the kiss. “Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I never wanted to make you feel like I wasn’t interested in you.”
Peter straddled Wade’s lap so they could cuddle more properly. His arms were around Wade’s back, holding him close like he always did then they were together. Holding him like something precious, like Peter was as surprised as Wade was that he could have something this tender.
“It’s okay. I did it to myself mostly. One track mind remember?”
“Are you um- are you okay with me being-?”
“Huh? Yeah of course I am. If you never want to have sex, also fine. I love you for more than how you look in spandex, Petey.” Wade pressed soft kisses along Peter’s shoulder to reassure him. He didn’t want to let this go, not when he thought it was going to be pulled out from under him just moments ago.
“I love you, too.” Peter whispered into Wade’s ear, his hands gripping his hoodie tighter.
It wasn’t exactly how Wade meant to tell him that, but with Peter whispering it back, not giving him a second to doubt himself, he was content with his slip up.
"You do look incredible in spandex, though." Wade grinned against Peter's neck.
Peter leaned into the touch, his voice taking on a more mischievous quality. "Oh I know, Wade. I know."
#arrawrites#spideypool#marvel#spfic#hurtcomfort#omg i wrote the fic that inspired this prompt back in 2017....#i feel ancient#scars#ace#asexual peter parker
43 notes
·
View notes
Text
Voicemails (part 1)
Pairing: Ethan x mc
Word count: 5.5 K words (damn that's the most I have written
Masterlist
Warning: ANGST
Taglist: @miyakokurono @trappedinfandoms @openheart12 @sekizincimektup @junggoku @ethandaddyramsey @edith-eggs1 @ethanramseysgirl @samihatuli @loveellamae @x-kyne-x @paulfwesley @zeniamiii @binny1985 @an-urban-witch-ig @ramseyegerton @noboundariesplease @mrsdr-ethan-ramsey @newcolonies @theodorepjames4 @unluckygs @choices-love-affair @kaavyaethanramsey @caseyvalentineramsey @ohramsey @virtualrain202 @squishywizardhq @junehiratas @lilyvalentine @nooruleman @itsgoingnuts @cordonianbleu @agent-breakdance @jamespotterthefirst @choicesfanaf @temptress-of-death-and-desire @ac27dj @rookiefromedenbrook @gaiusimp @theeccentricbibliophile @oofchoices @hatescapsicum @sanchita012 @edgiestwinter (if you want to be added to the taglist, let me know ☺️)
Author's note: Well I know I said I was going on semi hiatus but, my studies are going great so I decided to post 🤪 also, shout out to @kittykatchoices for helping me in bouncing ideas( she is amazing)
also I went full out and posted screenshots and dividers sike
Songs: Callin by Alec Bailey is my main muse but I made a playlist too
Forgive me if there are any errors
Day 1
Ethan was jolted awake from his slumber as the flight touched down. It continued to speed down the runaway when it eventually reduced to a slow crawl and he saw the glass facade of the airport, glinting in the afternoon sun.
AEROPORTO INTERNACIONAL DE MANAUS EDUARDO GOMES. The banner read and Ethan let the reality sink in that he actually was in the state of Amazonas, South America.
"Welcome to Manaus International Airport. The weather here is partly sunny with 98% chance of precipitation. The temperature is..."
Ethan zoned out. His back was killing him and the need to stretch was becoming unbearable. Even though the WHO team of doctors had settled in comfortably in the plush seats of the private jet, it was a very boring flight.
There is a certain restrictions to the number of boring and wasteful romantic comedies you could watch in a 40 hour flight.
They did have 2 stops for refueling but they weren't allowed to step out of the plane.
God I want to go on a run so bad. He thought mentally as he massaged his spasming neck.
The doctors kicked back and relaxed, ocassionally discussing the cholera epidemic break out in Tefé, a small city on the riverside. It was very productive and they did manage to make a dent in the treatment plan but, when everybody was asleep and it was just him and his thoughts.
And his thoughts mostly revolved around the reason why he volunteered to join these prestigious doctors to battle the epidemic.
It wasn't out of selflessness, or the need to save humanity or for some mindless award.
It was an opportunity.
An opportunity to run from the girl who has invaded his head and heart, and resided there.
Leah.
You are doing this for her own good. You are doing this for her professional development. You are doing this for her success. Feelings are fleeting, they will fade away. Ethan repeated those sentences like mantra, trying to ingrain it in his mind that he was doing the right thing leaving her behind.
No call, no text. A clean break.
But no matter how much you lie to your brain, you can't lie to your heart.
Ethan you know you are running away from her because she confessed that she loved you, stop lying to yourself. The snarky inside voice spoke up.
But, if he paid attention to it closely, it sounded just like Leah, calling him out in his bullshit.
He shook his head, trying to erase all the thoughts in his head as the aero-bridge connected to the door and they were opened. Standing up, he stretched his sore muscles and took out his duffle bag.
When he reached the exit, the air hostess with a face caked with makeup, gave him a polite smile. "Hope you had a pleasant flight doctor."
Pleasant my ass...
As he walked through the corridors towards the baggage claim area, he switched on his phone.
As he stood there waiting, he saw an influx of messages from Naveen and his dad.
But that was not what caught his eye.
Leah🌞
(3) missed calls
(1) voicemail
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was midnight here and around 1 am in Boston.
Ethan walked out of the bathroom, exhausted to the bone. It had been a long day for him. The moment they had landed they had been rushed to Tefé, where they dived straight into work. The hospital was already flooding and there was so much pain and suffering all around.
Ethan has the emotions of a block of granite but, seeing so much misery and sadness, made his energies drop low.
And it did not help that the pocket in which his phone was kept, was weighing him down.
(1) voicemail from Leah🌞.
He wanted to delete it immediately but every time his finger hovered above the delete button, he just could not. So, he let it lay there in his inbox as a heavy reminder.
The moment Ethan's back hit the mattress a huge sigh of relief escaped his lips. He was weary and his body ached.
But, sleep didn't come to him.
He just lay there staring at the ceiling, seeing the different shadows casted by the moonlight. He saw the shadows of the trees swaying and the reflection of the Amazon.
His eyes landed on his phone on the bedside table and he stared at it for a long time, contemplating if listening to the voicemail was worth it or not.
You don't have to respond...
But, then my resolve will weaken...
His logic and conscience went back and forth but there wasn't any clear winner.
If this is what having feelings for someone is like, I don't want it...
But, you would take a 100 leap of faiths for Leah, won't you?
"ARGH!" Ethan threw the comforter off and got up. He started pacing around the room, trying to work off his restlessness. He walked around the room, his eyes trained on the phone as if it was a bomb. He clenched his jaw and tried to not let one insignificant notification affect him, but it was getting harder with every passing minute.
"Ah fuck it." Ethan said as he picked up the phone to listen to the voicemail. Leah's uncertain and raw voice flooded which forced him to lie down because of the emotions which bubbled to the surface.
"Umm.. hey Ethan, Leah here. I..uh heard that you went to the Amazon to fight the cholera epidemic from Naveen today... And I am proud of you but, I know that is not the reason why you ran, is it?
It's because I said 'I love you' three days ago, isn't it?"
Leah's voice cracked as she took a deep breath, before continuing.
"Are those three words that scary?
I had prepared myself that you would ignore my very existence and shut out all the feelings and that would have been painful but bearable, but... You literally ran to another fucking continent?!"
She bitterly chuckled and Ethan's heart squeezed.
"I don't even know what to do at this point. Don't they say that you should confess your feelings the moment you realize them, otherwise you will regret it? But... I can't help but feel regret... Why do I even try? I should have just shut the fuck up and get on with my day but NO! I had to open my mouth and here I am here talking to your answering machine.
I just can't help but feel that I let you slip away from me...
Anyways, it's okay.. I will wait. I promised you I would always wait.
Just...come back to me..okay? Bye."
The phone beeped, signalling the end of the voicemail. Ethan lowered his hand to stare at his phone's screen.
"I love you Ethan. And it's okay if you don't say it back. I know you need time and I will be here waiting for you..."
That's what she had said three days ago. And as much as they lifted him, it pained him. He was confused and just couldn't think straight. He needed some space.
But, he could feel his resolution weakening. The itch to dial that number and talk to her was irresistible.
You made a promise to yourself Ethan. You can't go back on that now.
He let out a deep sigh and ran his hand through his brown locks. His eyes landed on the table on which there was the complementary stationary provided by the b&b. An idea slowly bloomed in his head and he nodded to himself.
Sure I can't call her. But atleast I can write down my reply so that it won't keep on being a burden on my shoulder.
With that being said, Ethan sat down on the desk and poured his heart out on the loose sheets of papers.
DAY 10
For the next ten days, Ethan would keep an eye on the phone for any notification.
And by any notification, it meant a voicemail or a message from that one particular woman who had him in the palm of her hand.
He would get excited whenever his phone would ping but, his hopes would immediately crash when it would just be a message from the telecom company telling him about his telephone bill.
After he got his seventh 'Bem-vindo à Amazônia'(welcome to the Amazons,) he just let out a sigh of disappointment and turned his phone off and got on with his day.
I am such a moron... Look at where the mighty have fallen. The person who hated texting looks forward to a text. Ethan chastised himself as he entered the local hospital for a busy day.
Around noon when he headed to the cafeteria down the street, he turned his phone on to find a notification that made his heart beat faster.
(1) voicemail from Leah🌞
He pressed the button and brought the phone to his ear.
"Hey Ethan, just wanted to update you on the hospital and your patients. Everything is running smoothly and all your patients are alive. Chief Naveen and someone named Dr. Hirata are managing them. Mrs. Rodriguez went home today and she left you some cookies which I may or may not have stolen because well... they might catch fungi and that's sure would be a tragedy. Also, you don't even like anything sweet and would have given it to me anyways."
Ethan could imagine her shrugging as she stuffed her face with a cookie. That mental image was way too cute and Ethan couldn't help but melt a little. He sat down on his designated seat in the cafeteria and Leah continued.
"Also, Mr. Agarwal from room 456 was taken in by Harper for emergency brain surgery. He had an aneurysm and is in recovery. So far, he is showing great scope of a full recovery.
In short, everything is fine and smoothly running in your absence.
To be honest, I don't miss you that much. It just feel like a normal day when you are in one side of the hospital and I am in the opposite side. But... When I cross your office before clocking out, instead of seeing you working on your desk or lounging on the couch in your office, I just see emptiness.
And then that reminds me of the emptiness in my chest... But fuck that, who cares?!
Seriously, I don't miss you at all. But... That doesn't mean it's an invitation to stay in the Amazons indefinitely.
I would very much like it if you come back to me...okay? Bye."
A grin decorated his face and it made him so happy that his cheekbones were hurting. He shook his head as he put his phone down on the wooden table.
I don't miss you at all...
Who are you trying to convince sunshine?
Those words may be biting but he also knew his sunshine pretty well. He knew that she also missed him the way he did but, both of them were stubborn and had their heads all the way up their asses.
Neither of them were going to cave in and confess.
It's a tiring game and Ethan often wondered how long is he going to last.
So with his head full of thoughts, he took out the hotel stationary and began writing his response.
DAY 19
"Put the patients in bed number 4 and 25 in the recovery ward and ask if they are willing to provide blood for plasma therapy. Bed number 20 is going downhill so increase the dosage of the narrow spectrum antibiotics from 100mg to 250 mg every two hours. And..."
Ethan turned around and let his eyes run over the different patients. He was covered from head to toe in scrubs and goggles donned his face. The mask muffled his speech.
"Bed number 40 should move to another ward because it isn't too severe in her case. And can you update me on the patients in the gymnasium?" Ethan asked as he looked up from the clipboard.
"Most of them are infected sir. We have been segregating them from the healthy ones. We made the banquet hall the centre of testing and if anyone tests positive we are either sending that person to the hospital or to the gym. We have even initiated lockdown to prevent the spread of the disease." The doctor spoke with a heavy Portuguese accent.
"Good. Keep me informed about the patients in bed 12, 39, and 26 throughout the night."
"Yes Dr. Ramsey. Boa noite!"
"Good night."
Ethan walked out of the isolation ward and headed into the locker room where he could sterilize himself. Getting out of the numerous layers of scrubs was a task in itself and he felt so suffocated in them.
As he pealed out the layers off his sweaty body and removed the mask he stepped into the shower cubicle and turned the tap on.
He sighed in relief as the cold water washed over him, washing away the day's dirt, grime and sadness. Working in the isolation ward was never easy. It was always filled with fear and despair. Ethan would try his best to make them comfortable but, he never had a knack of people's skills.
If Leah was here she would have them laughing in no time. The thought rushed through his mind.
Leah.
Ethan was missing her terribly. The first few days were easy to handle the absence but now? Good lord, he craved her.
She was his sunshine and she always knew how to lift his spirits up when he had a rough day be it by cracking awful dad jokes, her infamous puns or her just being around him.
He missed those hazel eyes which would fill up with concern the moment she noticed his discomfort. He missed the way she would reach out for his hand and squeeze it twice when they were in broad daylight. He missed the way she would wrap her arms around his waist and lean her head against his chest when it was just them.
He stepped out of the cubicle, water dripping down his toned abs. He slipped on a fresh pair of jeans and a plain tshirt. He was about to pick up his messenger bag when he saw the screen of his phone light up with a notification.
Leah🌞
(1) missed call
(1) voicemail
Ethan gave a small smile before pressing the button to hear the message.
"So apparently now I am Jenner's emergency contact, huh?"
Amusement laced her voice and Ethan groaned, hiding his face with hand. He hoped that Leah would never have to know but now the secret is out and all he wanted to do was curl up and hide.
She chuckled before continuing. "Don't be embarassed Ethan. I think that it is cute and I am so glad that you can trust me with your girl. Look at you, growing up and trusting people."
Ethan chuckled and Leah's tinkling laugh joined his.
"Basically, Jenner's dog sitter had to go out on an emergency so she called me to go to your apartment and feed her. Not going to lie but... I am scared."
She sighed before continuing.
"It's just that once I cross the threshold and see the cold empty penthouse shrouded in darkness... It would confirm that you are actually gone and that I can not continue living in the state of denial.
So, if you are getting calls from your neighbours that there is a hobo muttering to herself and pacing in front of your door, that's me."
Nervous laughter resounded on the line followed by another sigh.
"...you know what, fuck it. It's just a door."
Jingling of keys was heard on the line and it was shortly followed by excited barks.
"Oomph!" Leah was cut off by Jenner tackling her. A crash was heard, which might probably be the phone falling down on the ground.
Ethan smiled. He liked seeing his girls interacting.
Leah's coos were heard along with barks and whines from Jenner. Leah's voice sounded faraway as she spoke to Jenner in a baby voice.
"Oh girl... Don't be sad. I know he hurt you by leaving you here all alone. But you are not alone. Well, he hurt me too. So, don't worry we are on the same boat girl."
Those words were like a sucker punch in the gut and Ethan could not help but sit down on the bench as an after effect.
Don't worry... He hurt me too... Those words continue to echo through his head. He knew that Leah didn't say those words intentionally but, it just made him realise just how much of a facade she had put up, to hide her pain.
God, sunshine...
Leah's voice continued. "Well Jenner misses you too. We are okay, aren't we?" An excited bark sounded throught the phone and Leah chuckled.
"Sorry to disturb you. Go back to do your job of saving lives. You are doing a service to humanity Ethan, and I am super proud. You are so brave."
There was a pause before Leah blurted out.
"I- I miss you Ethan. A lot. And it hurts not seeing you here. But don't worry about me, I am a strong cookie and I will stay strong... For you. I just have one request though..
Come back to me soon...okay? Bye."
You have reached the end of the voicemail. If you want to hear agai-
Ethan immediately pressed the button and he heard her voice through the speaker of his phone. As she spoke, Ethan hauled a taxi to take him to his b&b.
You are doing a service to humanity... You are so brave..
Oh sunshine, if only you knew... it wasn't bravery.
I miss you a lot...
I miss you too sunshine...
Ethan sat and stared out of the window of his cab, a turmoil of emotions just running wildly in him as the words of the woman he loved, ran in his mind.
DAY 28
It was 12 am in Tefé and Ethan sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his phone's screen with narrowed gaze.
C'mon Ethan, don't be a pussy. It's just a message.
And that one message will be the breaking point for all of my will power and resolve. Might as well catch a flight home and personally wish her.
You are blowing things out of proportion... His inner voice reasoned.
"Shut the fuck up." Ethan exhaled, clenching his jaw, the muscle ticking as his eyes again landed on the blinking cursor, mocking him.
It was the 29th of April.
His sunshine's birthday.
And Ethan sat, twiddling his thumbs, contemplating what to type and send.
His thoughts went to last year when they were so at ease and could stay up and talk for hours but now, here he was, not able to formulate a single text message for the girl he had feelings for.
What have we come to?
Ethan couldn't help but feel guilty all of a sudden. Doubt clouded his mind and he wondered if running to the Amazon was really a good idea or not.
I needed space to think and figure out this 'love' thing... Right?
Shaking his head, he cleared all those lingering doubts and looked down at his phone again and wrote what came to his mind.
When did the great Ethan Ramsey get so cheesy? His inner voice snickered.
As he continued to read and re-read the message again and again, he started hating what he wrote.
"This is utter garbage. Who in their right mind uses emojis? Fuck this." Ethan muttered as he erased the entire message. He locked his phone and placed it on the bedside table before getting comfortable in the sheets and slipping into a deep slumber.
11:57 am
Ethan had finished his rounds and was just taking a five minute break before he headed into the conference room where the team of doctors would discuss their approach.
The condition did improve a bit here on Tefé, but it was a massive outbreak and things were getting harder to control. It was a stress fest 24/7 and Ethan could feel his brown locks greying by the second.
In this five minute break, instead of grabbing something to eat and regroup his thoughts, he stood in the hallway, looking down at his phone. He had typed another message with lesser mixed signals.
Well... This sounds robotic... No wonder Leah called me Dr. Terminator the first time. Ethan snorted as he shook his head, disappointed.
He was about to type more when he heard his name being called by one of his colleagues.
"Dr. Ramsey, we are good to go."
Ethan looked up and curtly nodded. "Yes, I'm coming." He locked his phone and slipped into the pocket of his denim jeans, diving into work again.
7:16 pm
Ethan was sat down on the bench outside the hospital and let out a breath of relief. He had been on his feet since the last 5 hours, running between the gymnasium, the hospital and the banquet hall.
The mask and goggles he had worn, had left bruises on his face and he just needed a fresh breath of air. Ethan took big gulps of the humid air which had hints of rain.
The thing about Tefé was that it rained everyday, without doubt. He enjoyed the rain but hated the humidity which was an inconvenient side effect. Though it was relatively cool at night, Ethan's shirt stuck to his chiseled body due to the excessive sweat.
Ethan took his phone out of the pocket and opened the messaging app again. "Short and sweet is better." Ethan mumbled as he started typing again.
He was half way through the message when his phone died due to the low battery. Ethan just looked up at the sky with defeat.
Was this the time to come at me karma?
He was about to head to the locker room to put his phone on charging when he heard panicked voices calling him. "Dr. Ramsey!"
"Yes?" He got up and started jogging to the entrance.
"Five patients in isolation ward CC-23 are deteriorating and they need help ASAP. We are short-handed and-"
"Say no more. We have lives to save."
12:00 am
It was a stressful evening to say the least.
The patients kept on flat lining and Ethan and the staff tried bringing them back to life by injecting them with adrenaline. After a giving quite a few scares, they were finally stable and moved to the ICU.
Ethan dropped his duffle bag on to the sofa in his b&b and stretched his arms above his head, cracking his neck to release the tension in his shoulders. He fished his phone out of his pocket and immediately connected it to the charging port.
His screen lit up after sometime and he saw a notification which made his heart sink.
Leah🌞
(1) voicemail
I could not wish her...
Ethan opened his notifications and pressed on the voicemail she left, preparing himself to face the music.
"Uh..hi Ethan. I hope things are going as smooth as they can over there. I have been reading the news and keeping up with the situation there. I ain't worried about that because well... You are Ethan freaking Ramsey, the best diagnostician of your generation!"
Nervous laughter flitted through the phone speaker before it turned into a sigh.
"I know you are busy with the epidemic and all but... You missed my birthday. And- and I don't want to sound like those middle school teenager crying over an unwished birthday but... It hurts when the love of your life doesn't do it.
I have been trying to reason with myself that you could have forgotten but, I know you. I know that you never forget... And I didn't expect an elaborate gesture or anything! Even a small 'happy birthday Leah' message could have made my day... And I know you are caught up in your work but... How long does it take to type three words?"
Leah's voice cracked and Ethan felt regret gripping at his throat.
"Ethan- I am running out of reasons to convince myself. I am running out of those optimistic reinforcing shit. I am running out of the the number of benefits of doubts to give you. I am running out of faith that you feel the same way as me.
The longer I am spending time without any communication from you, the more I am loosing myself into the vicious cycle of doubt and self loathing.
I am angry at you and I hate you so much right now. I want to burn down your sweater in my closet and throw away the sun pendant you gave me. Just forget that you existed and go back to being the old happy me."
Ethan gasped, feeling breathless all of a sudden. The heavy burden of her pain and his self loathing was crushing his chest, making it difficult for him to breathe.
In a soft, broken voice Leah spoke.
"But I won't. I don't have the strength to yank the necklace off me. Even though it burns me and is a reminder of the person who left me, I still wear it. Even though your name hurts me, I still want to hear it...
...I love you Ethan, so damn much that it hurts me. I need you Ethan, I really do and I know it's selfish of me but...
Just come back to me... Please. Bye."
Ethan leaned his elbows on his knees and let out a breath which rattled through his body. He put his head in his hands and let out another breath, trying to breathe through the heart shattering pain.
I am so sorry sunshine...
So fucking sorry...
DAY 36
It had been eight days since the last voicemail and Ethan had been tormented, swimming in gut wrenching guilt.
Most of the times he found himself reaching for the phone to call her, but he would just clench his fist and resume his work. All the words left unsaid, he would just pour it out on to the loose sheets of paper. That was the only thing that prevented him from slipping into insanity.
He was never one to understand the sentimental reason behind having a diary or journal. From a scientific perspective, he knew that it has long lasting effects in mental health and helps get rid of the anxiety.
But now, whenever he felt like he was going to get crushed under the guilt, he often found himself writing.
If he wasn't writing, he would be working. He started staying at the hospital longer and worked for longer hours so that he could tire himself out. That way, when he went to sleep, he would immediately fall asleep.
But still, no matter how much he tried, his thoughts would always go back to her.
Funny how one person could make or break your life.
It was 4:45 am and Ethan was in the lab, checking in on the newest vaccine that they had worked on. The doctors had been utilising the plasma of the recovered patients to formulate vaccines using the antibodies created in defense. And so far, it had been helping them. They were already vaccinating the asymptomatic people and it made a huge impact.
But still, there was a long way to go.
"Dr. Ramsey, why are you still here?" Dr. Batra, a 50 year old woman from India asked, her voice laced with inquisitiveness.
"Just working on the vaccine strains, Dr. Batra."
"You and I both know that those strains are highly effective." She said as she leaned against the door frame.
"Never hurt to be perfect." He shrugged as he leaned back from the microscope.
"But it does hurt when you over work yourself."
Ethan sighed as he took his glasses off. He rubbed his face.
"How long have you been awake Ethan?" Dr. Batra asked, the maternal concern evident in her tone.
Silence.
"Ethan..." She gave him a stern look.
"Yeah, yeah I will go now. After some ti-"
"You do know that avoiding your problems won't make them go away, right?"
Ethan's eyes snapped to her and immediately looked away not able to hold her gaze. She reminded him of Naveen and how he could never hide anything for him.
I wonder how he is doing...
"But I am delaying the inevitable, as most doctors must do."
"Ethan... I have known you for a very short duration but, I know for a fact that you are not a man who gives excuses."
Ethan sighed. "It's complicated."
"As must all the things in this universe."
"It's just... There is this girl, and she confessed her feelings for me. And the intensity of the feelings scared me. So here I am, taking a break. But... There is this small pain in my chest whenever I think about her. She fills me up with euphoria but can also break me down. When I reflect back on all the happy moments, I get light headed, as if I am on drugs. That is why I am here, to analyse and figure out my feelings whilst helping with the epidemic."
"Well... I think you know the answer but, you are just living in a state of denial."
Ethan sighed as he looked down at his hands. "Don't I know that?"
"Well, if you know the answer then what's stopping you?"
"I-" they were interrupted by the shrill ring of Ethan's phone. He saw the name 'Leah🌞' and pressed the silent button immediately.
"You won't take that?" she asked eyeing the phone.
"I don't think I am strong enough to do that."
"Love is for the brave Ethan. Remember that." She got up and patted his shoulder before stepping out. The sun rays filtered through the gigantic windows of the lab, slowly illuminating the clinical set up with its golden rays. Ethan picked up the phone and saw that Leah had left another voicemail.
Picking up the phone, he stood in front of the window, letting the warmth of the sun wash over him. Be brought the phone to his ear and he heard her.
"Hey. Its 6 am here and I was bored so I decided to call you. Or leave a voicemail because you never pick up my call. I was just feeling lonely so here I am! Kinda ironic but meh.”
Ethan could hear her shrug though the phone.
“I have been taking double shifts all week and it's been so productive. The cool cases I have done and solved, the lives I have saved... they have been giving me my quota of serotonin.
Literally nothing interests or makes me happy now. So my job is the only thing which I look forward to. The things I used to enjoy doing, seems like a chore.
Everything seems like a chore.
Sleeping, eating, breathing, everything seems like an exhausting task. I don't even like sleeping anymore. Because whenever I sleep I dream fo you and when I dream of you, it's like I am being stabbed in the heart.
I don't even want to go home, because whenever I am home, I see your sweater and then my mind goes back to the numerous night outs we had, working on our cases.
The hospital is okay but, every corner I turn I think I see you which, I am going to blame on my sleep deprivation. Don't worry, I am not going into self destruct mode. I still force myself to eat three square meals a day and I get around 4 hours of sleep for every 48 hours I am awake.
So it's okay... I am okay.
I maybe a ticking time bomb BUT, I am not a working hazard. I am alert at all times and all my patients are in tip top condition. I think I should give credit to the two energy drinks I downed along with a cup of coffee.
Don't worry, my heartbeat is under the safe limit of 180 BPM.
In short, don't worry. I am golden.
I hope you are taking care of yourself too! I just hope that you come back to me.
Bye. Love you."
"FUCK!" Ethan exclaimed as he threw he phone with a thud on the table. He placed his palms on the cool granite countertop, breathing heavily.
Shit, shit, shit.
He started pacing in the lab, playing with his beard, his mind racing with worry and concern.
This was not supposed to happen.
Ethan stood and gripped the counter again closing his eyes, trying to centre his breathing but it was futile.
I need to do something, anything! His conscience egged him.
He opened his eyes and it landed on his phone.
Well, I guess it's time to make a call.
well, I hope you guys liked it!
do you think Ethan finally caved in and called her?
like, comment, reblog and let me know what do you think :))
#choices#choices oh#playchoices#choices stories you play#choices stories we play#pixelberry#open heart#open heart mc#open heart 2#open heart fanfiction#choices fanfiction#open heart fic#anushka writes#oh Ethan#ethan ramsey#ethan x mc#ethan jonah ramsey#dr. ethan ramsey#dr ethan ramsey#ethan x f!mc#ethan ramsey x mc#ethan ramsey one shot
271 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sin
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Warnings: Incest (big brother & little sister), Sex Pollen, Smut (fingering & missionary), Enhanced Reader, 18+
Word Count: 2.1k
Hell yeah, I’ve got like 10 requests for this kink in my inbox! Dedicated to all my ladies with the same fucked up big brother kink as me. Wrote this in like 2 hours whilst listening to this song on repeat.
Your body was entirely too hot, a stark contrast to the cold weather outside: winter, with two feet of snow on the ground and black ice all over the roads. With the seatbelt resting uncomfortably between your breasts, your bare thighs and back stuck to the leather passenger’s seat as Bucky drove you through a blizzard on the way back to the Quinjet.
The mission was a failure.
Whatever intel Hydra still had under wraps, you hadn’t been able to retrieve it. Instead, you’d walked right into a trap. The moment the two of you broke into the warehouse, a bucket of acid spilled from the rafters right down the front of your body – strong enough to melt away your clothing, yet gentle enough not to hurt you.
Much.
If you weren’t enhanced, it probably would have killed you. As it was, the acid stung, burned, made your flesh entirely too sensitive to the touch. What’s worse was that it dried within a minute or two, but the chemical reaction only worsened. Even the soft fleece blanket your brother retrieved from the trunk seemed to chafe, but you covered yourself with it anyway.
At least, in the beginning.
Your skin was still flushed wherever the acid melted away any hint of modesty you might have had. You could still almost feel it trickling down your body, that uncomfortable tingling sensation as it dissolved the thick fabric of your tac gear -- not to mention your bra and panties. The pleasant sting of it still lingered on your nipples and your clit, and the heady scent of it stuck to you, acidic and cloying and far too sweet.
By the time the two of you reached the Quinjet, you weren’t the only one burning up.
What you could recall was Bucky’s agonizing warmth as he carried you onto the jet; the chill of his metal fingertips as they dug into your bare side, where the blanket must have slipped away; and the smell of him, cedar and spice – so masculine – which sent a surge of heat straight to your core.
A fever dream. Unbearable pain laced with the most incredible pleasure.
When he lay you down on the padded table, your fingers caught in his tac vest.
“Bucky,” you whined, squeezing your thighs together. “It hurts.”
“I know,” he murmured, smoothing your hair away from your sweaty forehead with one large hand – flesh, not metal. Hot, too hot.
“Use your—” you panted, back arching off of the table, “your other one. Fuck.”
His eyes met yours, steel blue full of conflict and confusion until you pulled his vibranium hand to your forehead. Then your eyes fluttered shut and you let out a soft, shaky breath. While it did nothing to alleviate the ache in between your legs, or all over the rest of your body for that matter, the metal was ice cold and for that, you were thankful.
Not for long, however. Your body heat quickly warmed it right up.
“Tell me what to do,” Bucky pleaded with you. “What should I do?”
“Autopilot,” was all you could manage. Raspy. Desperate.
Get me back to the lab.
Bucky was gone for no more than a minute or two at most, but to you it felt like an eternity. You barely even noticed when the Quinjet took to the air, too absorbed in the sensations prickling at your bare skin. At some point, you kicked away the blanket – not that you cared.
All you could feel was the thrum of desire running through your veins. The evidence was smeared in between your bare thighs, white and creamy.
By the time your brother returned, you couldn’t think straight anymore.
“Jesus,” Bucky swore under his breath at the sight that greeted him: his little sister writhing on the table, naked and wanting and his resolve was already about to snap. The too-sweet aroma permeating the air of the Quinjet wasn’t just affecting you, but him, too, especially with his enhanced senses. That wasn’t the only thing he could smell; the tang of your arousal was unmistakable.
“Tell me what to do,” he said again, low and rough. “What do you need?”
Bucky knew what you needed. He just couldn’t give it to you.
“I don’t know,” you sobbed. “Do something, Bucky, please.”
Couldn’t quickly turned to shouldn’t, and he swallowed thickly. “I— I can’t—”
You finally cracked your eyes open to peer up at him, only to find that he looked just as wrecked as you felt. His eyes were half-lidded and hazy, pupils blown as he stared at you, naked and on full display in front of him. All for him.
“Please,” you begged, bringing his flesh hand to the center of your heaving chest.
Bucky’s palm was so hot to the touch against your flushed, hypersensitive skin. You weren’t sure if it was you or him who brought it to your breast, but the way he tweaked your nipple let you know it wasn’t entirely you.
Even his protest was weak. “You… You don’t know what you’re saying, sweetheart.”
The pet name rolled off of his tongue so easily, despite the fact that it wasn’t something he’d ever called you. It made you shiver. You peered up at him through your lashes, worrying your lower lip in between your teeth as you pulled his hand lower – trailing it down your stomach to the top of your curls.
“Please,” you repeated, breathier this time.
His resolve shattered to pieces.
The way Bucky kissed you was rough and desperate, and although the passion behind it may have been artificial, his skill certainly wasn’t. You knew what a playboy he used to be and he definitely didn’t disappoint. His tongue just barely traced the seam of your lips before you opened your mouth to him, letting him dominate you in every sinful way.
It wasn’t right.
It didn’t matter.
Your body was on fire and he was the only one who could put out the flame.
Bucky’s fingers slid between your slick folds with ease, and you moaned into the kiss at the intimate contact. Even you could hear how wet you were.
That was when his lips left yours to suck and bite at the tender flesh of your neck, a momentary distraction before he buried two thick fingers deep inside of you – and when he curled them right against your sweet spot, your eyes rolled back.
A string of curses followed when he started to fuck you with his fingers, and he wasn’t gentle, no – the pace he set was rough and punishing, focusing right on your g-spot with every pass, with every mark he left on your neck and breasts. The wet, sloppy sounds echoing off the walls of the Quinjet might have been embarrassing if you weren’t so blissed out of your mind already. Instead the vulgarity of it all just brought you higher.
Breathy whimpers and gasps of his name escaped your throat, along with pleas for him not to stop as the pressure further built, until tears were streaming down your face – blissful tears and uncontrollable sobs because it felt too fucking good, god, you needed this, needed him—
Mindlessly, your hands fumbled with the coarse fabric of his tac shirt, where you could feel his bicep flexing beneath the material as he worked downright fucking magic on your body. “God, Bucky—”
“Come on, sweetheart,” he whispered, and then he kissed you again – messy, all tongues and teeth. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer until he finally murmured against your lips, “Come for me.”
The rough timbre of his voice coupled with everything else was just enough to send you over the edge, and you came harder than you ever had before, thighs shaking at the intensity. Bucky swallowed every single one of your moans – not that being quiet was a priority.
You felt lightheaded as he gently withdrew his hand from your slick heat. The expression on his face was unlike anything you’d ever seen: cheeks flushed, eyes dark with desire as he stared in awe at the mess you’d made. Your juices were all over his fingers, sticky sweet which he slowly, teasingly licked away.
Seeing your brother do something like that stoked the raging fire within you, and in that moment you knew that the two of you were going straight to hell. Why prolong the inevitable?
Hands trembling, you reached for his belt. He didn’t even try to stop you. Instead, he fisted your hair and used his tight grip to pull your mouth to his.
In seconds, you had his belt unbuckled and his pants down around his ankles. Bucky broke the kiss just long enough to take the rest of his clothes off – tac vest and shirt, mostly – and then he was nestled in between your legs atop the padded table.
You’d never seen his cock before, but damn if it didn’t make your mouth water.
When your fingers wrapped around his throbbing length, he let out a shaky breath and rested his forehead on your shoulder. When he spoke, he sounded just as desperate as you felt, “You’ve gotta tell me to stop.”
“I don’t want to stop,” you croaked.
The tip of his cock brushed against your soaked core, then, and both of you shivered at the feeling. The fingers of his vibranium hand dug into the soft flesh of your hip – holding you steady for what he was about to do.
“Neither do I,” he growled, and then he slammed his hips forward so that he was fully seated within you in one single thrust.
You let out a strangled cry at the feeling, at the stretch – a pleasant burn that felt way too good for what it was, for what the two of you were.
This wasn’t right.
You didn’t care.
You rolled your hips against him in a plea – or maybe it was an order.
“So needy,” he breathed against the sweat-slickened skin of your throat, sucking another bruise there to add to the collection. “Always so fucking needy.”
You were. He was speaking from experience – his bratty little sister.
The thought of it made your walls clench around him, and he groaned. “Fuck, sweetheart. You like that?”
The sound that escaped you was something in the affirmative, but you couldn’t really verbalize it properly. He felt too good.
“Jesus Christ, doll, you’re squeezing me like a vice,” Bucky rasped, laving his tongue over your collarbone as he thrust into you. His grip was sure to leave bruises, but you didn’t care about that, either.
All you cared about was that you were being fucked right out of your mind – by your brother.
That was when Bucky hiked your leg up higher around his waist with his free hand. The new angle allowed him even deeper inside, and you threw your head back, moaning as the tip of his cock brushed against your cervix.
“You’re mine,” he panted against your neck.
Your heart raced at his possessive words.
“I’m yours,” you whimpered in response, burying your fingers in his hair to drag him down for another kiss. It was just as messy as his thrusts were starting to become, frantic and harsh as you both got closer to the edge.
Bucky only broke away to look at you, and though his eyes were dark, so up close you could just make out the blue of his iris. There was something intimate about the way he held your gaze, and in an instant you were too far gone to hold back, gasping, “Fill me up.”
You wanted his cum. You needed it.
His eyes widened just a little, before his hips stuttered and then he slammed into you as deep as he could go, groaning your name. The second you felt his cock throb inside of you, your orgasm crashed down upon you like a sheet of ice – your legs squeezing around his waist, fingers tightening in his hair as he spilled inside of you. Your walls milked him dry, squeezing with each pulse of his cum until there was nothing left.
As you and Bucky regained your breath, he slowly pulled out of you, gingerly, almost – like he didn’t want to hurt you. Bruises were already starting to form on your hips, and your neck and chest were covered in marks he’d left – marks stemming from a passion that should never have existed.
They’d disappear soon enough, but nothing would ever be soon enough.
The fire was gone.
By the time you got back to the compound, the only evidence of your sin was his cum dripping down your thighs.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky x you#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes#sin
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
“dreamer.” || shouto todoroki
desc.: When Shouto is denied a seat on the mission to walk the new world, he finds himself in need of your company. He doesn’t have to ask for you to oblige. [futuristic/space travel au - 1k words]
a/n: i just really like space [navigation] [dreamer.]
“Mind if I sit?”
Shouto turned around from where he sat on the platform overlooking the planet below, his figure framed only by the lights emitted from the control panels around the bridge. You saw him nod, and came to sit next to him in front of the pilots’ stations, tucking your knees close to your chest. He held out his bowl of cold noodles. You shook your head.
“Eleven hours until the mission starts,” You said, not knowing if there was anything else you could say with the severity of the situation. It was weighing on everyone’s minds from the bridge where you were currently sitting, clear to the deepest corners of the engine rooms. Even with all the work to be done in the labs, you couldn’t imagine how hard it must have been for Shouto- stationed only aboard, bombarded with questions and expectations being the captain’s son (as if he and his dad even talked, anymore).
Shouto shifted restlessly next to you. He finished the last few noodles in the bowl before muttering, “I should be going down there.”
“I know,” You whispered back. You put a gentle hand on his arm, and he slid closer until his thigh pressed against yours. He still smelled like the last experiment you’d been working on in the labs. It wasn’t the most pleasant scent, but you could still smell his cologne underneath. That was enough to get your shoulders to fall and your breathing to steady. “He shouldn’t keep you up here like this.”
“I spent my whole life wanting to go on that space walk, and he keeps me up here for my “safety.” Fucking cheap.”
“It’s unfair,” You agreed, resting your head on his shoulder. His entire body was tense beside you. After a moment of consideration, you said, “Maybe you can get an audience with the admiral?”
He just nearly scoffed. “As if.”
“I mean it,” You said, turning your head towards his ear. “Admiral Yagi knows you. You can probably get a request sent back home through Lieutenant Hawks. He isn’t a snitch.”
“It’ll all come down to the captain’s decision, anyway. He’s never listened before. There’s no point.” You sighed through your nose and laced your fingers through his.
“Well, if we can’t do anything about that, maybe we can do something else?” You suggested. He hummed. “All of the samples they’re gonna bring back are going straight to the labs. If you can’t go down there, maybe you can at least have a part of that world for yourself? No memories needed.”
“Are you suggesting I commit theft against earthbound, Japanese law just for the aesthetic?” He smirked.
“I mean. It wouldn’t be inaccurate to say that your assumption may or may not be somewhat partially correct.” You smiled, and he laughed. It was a heavenly sound that didn’t grace your presence much anymore. It sent a warmth to your belly, as if it was the blossoming of your relationship all over again. But your own feelings aside, you hoped some good ol’ fashion near-treason might make Shouto feel a bit better.
You eyed the empty bowl in his other hand that wasn’t holding your own. “Were the noodles any good?”
“Well. They were definitely boring, but they were noodles. I think.”
“There wasn’t any sauce or anything?”
“Someone at HQ decided it would be nice to gift their cadets with the occasional noodles and didn’t think of sending any special sauces with it, so no. I’m cursed with carbs and carbs only.”
“Maybe they just like plain noodles at HQ.”
“Name one person you know who indulges themselves in plain noodles.”
“I mean, sometimes back home, I would take a couple noodles from the strainer before I put them with the rest of the dish. You know, for the flavor.”
“Yeah, but would you honestly sit there and eat the entire strainer of noodles?”
“You don’t know what I’m capable of,” You both laughed again, gazing out the window. It was still nighttime on this side of the planet, and luckily for the crew, it was currently the nightly-portion of the daytime cycle, which meant that you should both be asleep, but instead you were trespassing. You weren’t even supposed to be on the bridge in the first place, no matter the time of cycle. It didn’t really matter much to you then, though. He didn’t seem to care either. You’d spare some regret if you got caught.
You sighed. “But besides noodles, I think this view is a whole lot to take with you, isn’t it? Being on a planet’s surface is overrated.” You pointed to a glowing, azure area in the middle of one of the smaller oceans below. “Just look at that. You can’t see that shit from the ground. Uraraka said it’s a huge pool of radioactive alien algae. It’s pretty sick.”
He hummed in reply. You squeezed his hand. “That is pretty sick.”
“Too bad we can’t get a sample,” You pouted.
“Why not?”
“Oh. She said it would probably melt our faces off if we got within five miles of the outskirts. I wanna steal shit from the lab, but I’d rather not die and melt everyone aboard while doing it. Well. Maybe I wanna melt Mineta, but I really like some of our other coworkers, you know?” He smiled with a small nod.
After a few minutes of silence, he said, “Thanks for coming to sit with me.”
“You don’t have to thank me. I’d sit here with you forever if your dad wouldn’t boot us into the endless vacuum of space for trespassing on his bridge in a few hours.” You both smiled again, and you pressed yourself closer to his arm in an almost-hug. “Just don’t try to take all this weight on your own. I’m always here for you.”
“I know.” He pressed a kiss into your hair. You melted under it. “It means worlds to me.”
-
“A philosopher once asked, ‘Are we human because we gaze at the stars, or do we gaze at them because we are human?’ Pointless, really...’Do the stars gaze back?’ Now, that's a question.”
- Neil Gaiman, “Stardust”
-
TAGLIST: @keigos-dove @knifeewifee @hanniejji @katsukis-sad-angel @wesparklebitch @bvnnyclouds
- dm/inbox to be added/removed from a taglist.
#shouto todoroki#shouto todoroki x reader#todoroki shoto x reader#bnha#mha#boku no hero academia#my hero academia#reader insert#bnhabookclub#space travel#space exploration#space au
90 notes
·
View notes
Note
okay, so all i want is for remus to have a crush on reader or whoever . you can do absolutely anything with this remus just has a really big crush on her and he notices things about her personality and all. fluff because I also want them to like kiss at the end of this all.
Okay here’s the deal anon, I owe you an apology because I’m almost certain that the following story is not what you had in mind. I headcanon that Sirius is gay and Remus is bisexual or pansexual (I also headcanon that Tonks is NB, and I do ship Remadora to a point, but that’s beside the point). So while this might not be exactly what you intended, it’s the story that came to me, so I hope you enjoy!
Please Send Me Prompts My Inbox Is Sad And Empty
Firsts
In the three previous years, James had partnered with Sirius in Herbology and Remus with Peter. This was generally how lesson pairs broke down between the four friends, partly because James and Sirius had so much fun goofing off together and partly because Remus wanted to actually concentrate on the professor during lessons. Fourth year, however, was different.
The first day of classes began like any other. The bright September sun followed the four of them across the grounds into Greenhouse 2 for their first Herbology lesson of term.
“I hope we do Devil’s Snare this year,” Sirius grinned mischievously.
“God, I don’t,” Peter paled, “imagine if it got you and never let go.”
“Don’t worry, Pete,” James beamed as he threw glances to the group of Gryffindor girls ahead of them, also on their way to Herbology, “we’d visit you all the time, bring you biscuits, everything.”
“Fuck off,” grumbled Pete. He’d been in a foul mood all day after their disastrous first Potions lesson where he’d managed to melt his brand-new cauldron.
“Someone’s grumpy!” Sirius declared as they crossed the threshold into Greenhouse 2, “don’t worry, Pete, I’ll tell you a joke to cheer you up. Have you ever heard about the troll, the hag, and the leprechaun who all go into a bar-”
“Remus?”
Remus doubled back, not sorry to miss the rest of Sirius’ joke. Amelia Bones stood a few feet away, wearing a pretty blue hair ribbon to match her Ravenclaw tie. She was twisting her hands nervously over her stomach, and he noticed that she was blushing slightly. The effect the flush had underneath her freckles was quite nice.
“Hi Amelia,” he squeaked, trying to sound more confident than he felt, “what’s up? How was your summer?”
“Erm, not bad,” she smiled sweetly up at him, “I was wondering if…”
“Oi, Remus!” Sirius called across the room, “Pete saved you a seat.” James and Peter snickered behind Sirius, clearly in on the joke to make him look a fool in front of Amelia.
Remus waved them off and turned his attention back to Amelia. “Sorry, ignore them. What were you wondering?”
She went from pink to red at his words. “I was wondering if… you wanted to be my Herbology partner this year.”
Remus blinked. “Oh,” he said, unsure if he understood her properly, “um, yeah, alright. You mean all year?”
She looked stunned at his words. “Oh, yeah, if you wanted…”
“I do,” he said quickly. To his annoyance, he felt his hand fly to his hair, just like James did when he talked to a girl. “Yeah. I’d like that, Amelia.”
She beamed at him. “Great! Well, I guess we should get on with it, then,” and she gestured to a pair of empty chairs.
--
And so they sat together in the Greenhouse. Their conversations were awkward at first. They kept running into long pauses between their feeble attempts at small talk. Remus always kicked himself when he couldn’t decide what to say. He couldn’t tell too many stories, so much of his life had to be kept secret. He couldn’t very well tell her why he looked so tired that one Wednesday after the Full Moon, nor where he had gotten a particularly nasty scar that stretched across the back of his right hand. He was sure she’d get bored of him eventually, but lesson after lesson there she was, smiling from the seat next to him. She didn’t seem to care that he had little to say, because after a few weeks she talked enough for the both of them.
She told him about her mother’s work in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Remus braced himself at this. He knew that the Department was none too friendly towards werewolves, but the topic never came up. She told him that she wanted to head the Department herself someday.
“Yeah?” he grinned, “you want to work in magical law?”
She smiled as she misted a rosebush with a spray bottle. “It’s the only thing I can imagine doing, you know, with everything that’s going on.”
Remus nodded. That was one of the things he liked about Amelia. She had parents in the Ministry. She knew about the war that was surely coming, and she wasn’t afraid. She’d told him once that she’d give her life to protect others if it came to it.
“Sounds like you should have been in Gryffindor,” he’d told her at this.
“Nah,” she laughed, “you lot are too aggressive. Give me a book over a fight any day.”
Remus pretended to look wounded. “Not all of us are like that.”
He stopped his work on the engorged Venus Flytrap in front of him and glanced sideways at her. Her large blue eyes studied him carefully as if she were making up her mind. “No,” she almost whispered, “I suppose you’re not, are you?”
--
That night in the Common Room found the boys sitting around the roaring fire. James and Sirius played a game of Exploding Snap while Peter watched, clapping his hands and cheering loudly when one of the players had a particularly impressive move. Remus stared into the fire, the book he had been reading lay forgotten in his lap.
“Moony,” James called, waking Remus from his daydream about Herbology that day, “what’s got your face look all crumpled like that?”
“Isn’t it obvious,” grumbled Sirius, “Bones. Again. Am I wrong?”
Remus was sure his cheeks had turned dark red at this comment. “No.”
Sirius grimaced. “See? Told you.”
James laughed out loud. “Remus? In love? I never thought I’d see the day.”
“Not in love,” Remus argued, trying to regain some of his dignity, “in….like, I suppose.”
“Like...you want to shag her brains out, do you mean?” Peter chuckled.
“Don’t be gross,” Remus tossed his book at Peter’s head, which unfortunately missed. “She’s funny, that’s all.”
“Funny?” Said Sirius incredulously, “I’ve never heard her be funny.”
“Have you ever even talked to her?” Remus frowned. He didn’t know why Sirius was being so nasty.
“‘Course I have,” Sirius muttered, “she seems boring if you ask me.”
“Well, good thing no one asked you, then,” Remus snapped. He wasn’t interested in dealing with one of Sirius’ moods today. Amelia was a nice girl. She had a good heart and she cared about the things Remus cared about. Sirius was just jealous for whatever reason.
Sirius jumped to his feet. “Well, if you’re going to blab on about her all night, I’m going to bed.”
Remus rolled his eyes. “What, and deprive us of your pleasant company?”
Sirius glared at him, then stomped off up the stairs.
James stared after his friend. “What was that about?”
“No idea,” Remus gestured to Peter for his book back, then went back to pretending to read in front of the fire. Really, if Sirius had a problem with Amelia, who cared.
But he did care.
--
The ground had frozen solid already, a sure sign that winter approached. Amelia had insisted that they study for their Herbology exam down by the black lake. He wasn’t sure why they had to be outside, but she’d lit a fire that floated several inches above the blanket she laid out for them which provided a buffer of warmth against the brisk wind.
“Name the Kingdom, Order, and Family of Crataegus, give its common name, and list its magical properties,” Amelia recited from her textbook.
Remus screwed up his face in concentration.
“Let’s see...Crataegus, also known as Hawthorn, Kingdom is Plantae, Order is Rosales, and Family is Rosaceae. In ancient times Muggles believed the Hawhotrn had magical properties of rebirth and fertility, and Wizards use its elements in draughts to strengthen the heart,” He glanced at Amelia, “how’d I do?”
“Brilliant,” she beamed, snapping her book shut. She stretched her legs so that her shoeless feet reached towards the Black Lake. “Let’s take a break, I’m exhausted.”
“Up all night reading, were you?” he teased.
She tried her best not to smile, but the corners of her mouth gave her away. “If you must know… yes. I couldn’t put down our Transfiguration textbook.”
Remus gaped at her. “Oh come on!” he laughed, “there’s being studious, and there’s being a bloody nerd!”
She looked at him in disbelief. “Traitor! I would have thought you, of all people, would understand.” Something changed in her face when she said this. She seemed to grow softer, more earnest. She looked at him as if he were supposed to gain some greater understanding from her words.
Remus laughed nervously. “Well, I like bloody nerds.”
“Yeah?” she whispered. She drew closer to him by the second, her eyes boring into his.
“Yeah,” he breathed. He knew what she wanted from him, and he was pretty sure he wanted it too.
Their lips met across the space between them. Her skin was warm, and her lips moved naturally against his own. It was a nice feeling, and he kissed her back with interest. His stomach swooped when she gently tugged at his bottom lip with her teeth. He lifted a hand to her cheek and rested it there, gently pulling her closer.
--
“You WHAT?”
Remus did not look up from his book. “We kissed. Alright?”
James stared at him open-mouthed. “How!” he howled, like a child who had a toy taken away by a fed-up parent, “how are you the first one to kiss a girl of the four of us? You’re afraid of girls!”
“Apparently not,” Remus grinned despite himself. It was true, he’d never been a flirt. But it seemed that James’ strategy of annoying girls until they liked him hadn’t quite paid off yet.
“And how was it?” Sirius barked across the room from his spot on his four-poster. He still had that strange, hard edge to his voice. He’d been that way for a few weeks now.
Remus shrugged. “It was nice.”
“Just nice?” cried Peter, who looked like he was about to explode, “Come on, we need more than that!”
Remus thought back to the moment down by the lake. “It was...unexpected.”
“Was it everything you’d ever dreamed of?” Sirius drawled in a bored voice.
Remus shot him a dirty look. “And if it was?”
Sirius scoffed. “I doubt it.”
“Look,” Remus said angrily, “I don’t know what your problem is, but I’m sick of this. You’ve been sulking around me for weeks. I don’t know if it’s jealousy, or-”
“Jealous?” Sirius’ eyes flashed with anger, “you think I’m jealous of her?”
Remus faltered. “No,” he stammered, “I meant-”
But Sirius cut him off. “Of course, I didn’t mean,” he took a breath, “I just don’t want you lording it over the rest of us, alright? That you’ve got a girlfriend, or whatever. Us Marauders have more important things to think about.” And with that, Sirius tore the hangings around his bed closed with a huff.
Remus stared at the spot Sirius had been feeling shaken. What had Sirius meant, “you think I’m jealous of her?”
“Let him sleep it off, mate,” James said uneasily, glancing at the closed hangings around his friend’s bed, “he’s just in a mood.”
“Fuck off, James,” Sirius called from out of sight.
James sighed, threw Remus one more apologetic look, then began to get ready for bed.
Remus sat quite still for a moment. Just minutes ago he could think of nothing but Amelia. Now, Sirius filled his brain. They fought so rarely, it was hard to believe that his kiss with Amelia had made Sirius so angry. After a while, Remus realized he was the last boy awake in the dormitory. Confused and upset, he got to his feet and turned out the light.
#nina writes#prompts#remus lupin#sirius black#amelia bones#peter petigrew#james potter#slowburn wolfstar#poor baby bisexual remus
13 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
customkraftboxesintheus
Custom Kraft Boxes
dayaxkmm
🤍
evolvideo1
The Video
scarlet-kitten
master’s kitten
on-my-way-to-zero
lighter_then_air