#like how is reading Y/N every two words immersive | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

randxmthxughts · 11 months

Text

Chosen by Eywa - Crossing the Bridge - Chapter 4

← chapter 3 | chapter 5 →

contains: arranged marriage, mentions of war and grief, angst, one-sided enemies to lovers, slow burn

wc: 4.2k

chosen by eywa masterlist | general avatar masterlist

a/n: i know i haven't updated in two weeks, but it was only due to the circumstances. like i promised, i will have another chapter out during the week, bc i'm so happy that i got my visa and went to my concert, so stay stuned, babies. i hope you still like this series and will keep reading T.T

It was awkward. The way Neteyam stood in front of the tent, hesitating to walk in to avoid drawing the attention of the other healers. Awkward, how he had to shift his weight from one foot to the other every few minutes because everyone, except her, had caught sight of the future Olo'eyktan at some point. And it took Kiri to finally shove her so forcefully to look up from her task, that Y/N almost fell face first onto the ground.

The whole intention of spending time together away from the High Camp was to avoid the attention and the murmurs of the villagers about them. More importantly, to avoid running into Kaye and his new mate. But the moment their ikrans touched down in the forest, far away from the prying eyes, the pressure of performing got replaced with an uncomfortable tension. And neither Y/N nor Neteyam knew how to close that gap between them. How come weaving mats in a healing tent seemed to be easier and less stressful than taking a stroll in the lush forest of Pandora?

“Say something, show her the real Neteyam,” Neteyam muttered to himself, trailing awkwardly behind Y/N.

She, immersed in her own thoughts, walked ahead without a clear direction, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her loincloth. Neteyam desperately tried searching for an opening to deliver, and took a few larger strides not to fall behind too far.

“So… how was your day?” he finally mustered the courage to ask.

Y/N paused in her tracks, glancing back at him with a small frown, as if she couldn’t quite make out the words he said. Neteyam stopped walking too, waiting for a response.

“The usual. Lessons,” her voice lacked any enthusiasm that could have encouraged him to go on.

“Good,” Neteyam nodded, trying to offer something else in return, “I’ve had training today.”

“How was it?”

“The usual,” he repeated Y/N’s words with an ironic snicker, recalling his morning, “It’s either getting beaten up by your fake opponents, or by the actual bad guys. Today was the pretend one.”

He shrugged to complete his explanation, something that he had borrowed from his brother whenever he made a joke, as if to give his words a humorous meaning. And though they were quite ghastly, it coaxed a small chuckle out of Y/N. Neteyam’s ears twitched at the sound with a flicker of delightful surprise. He made her smile.

“Well, you look alright for someone who got beaten up,” Y/N gestured at his woundless body, her canines peeking out.

“I’d have to turn that compliment down, since I didn’t get beaten up today,” Neteyam smirked, “You should have seen the other guy.”

“Oh, is that so? That’s always the case with you?”

“No, I get beaten up too sometimes… though not as often,” he shrugged again, this time releasing the pressure of performing, as he admitted to a vulnerability that most warriors wouldn’t, “And even when I do, I don’t worry about that stuff.”

“Why not?” Y/N’s ears perked up in curiosity.

“Well, let’s see…” Neteyam bit back a smile, pretending to be thinking about his answer, “I have a grandmother for Tsahik, my mother used to be the tsakarem, now my sister is a tsakarem,” he paused, hesitating to add, “And my destined mate is training under the guidance of the Tsahik. So, I think I’m in good hands.”

“Right,” Y/N snorted at the comment, and for a moment Neteyam thought that he might have crossed the line his father kept telling him about, but once she turned away from him to continue walking, he noticed a ghost of a smile on her lips, and that was enough of a confirmation to send his heart into a rapid beat.

Neteyam wasn’t even sure why the reaction made him suddenly giddy but it felt like a small victory he could showcase, if his family expresses any interest in his progress with Y/N. And as he continued to trail behind her, though they mostly remained in silence, the atmosphere seemed to ease.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“It’s okay, Y/N, let’s switch,” Kiri’s tight grip on Y/N’s arm brought her back into reality.

Y/N stood awkwardly a few steps away from the two warriors in front of her - one, who looked at her with guilt but still some lingering warmth in his eyes, and the other - who studied her earnestly, looking for any signs of discomfort, as if he could make them vanish. Kiri, who was only a moment ago treating her brother, was quick to read the situation and attempted her best to resolve it. Everything just unraveled so fast, the way the group of warriors stumbled into the tent for the first time in days, seemingly wounded after an encounter with the sky people.

Since they were practically regulars at the tent, each warrior was used to being treated by the same one or two healers, and everyone found their places right away. Kiri too, without a second thought, was immediately grabbing her older brother and getting to work. Which left Y/N standing in front of Kaye, according to the unspoken habit that had developed over the past months. Kaye had a gash across his chest that needed close inspection, but Y/N couldn’t really move, as if her feet were suddenly glued to the ground, weighed down.

Neteyam, of course, watched the scene unravel before him, but he couldn’t do much but just contain himself from making a bigger deal out of it for the whole tent to see. His eyes darted around the room, searching for his grandmother, who perhaps could help Kaye instead, but Mo’at was already busy with placing stitches on another warrior’s thigh, and it would take a while before she would be free.

“It’s alright, I can wait for somebody else to -” Kaye cleared his throat, raising his palms in the air, as if to prevent the switch up, but Kiri simply ignored him, already nudging Y/N to the side.

“That looks bad, you need to take care of it,” Neteyam gestured at Kaye’s chest with much discontent, as if acknowledging the truth made him cringe.

Defeated, Kaye stopped disagreeing, the sting of the wound was only getting more painful when he spoke, and to be quite honest, he couldn’t wait. Y/N’s expression remained stone cold, as she watched Kiri lead Kaye to the other side of the tent. Neteyam pressed his lips into a thin line, watching them two, his irritation finally starting to seep away, the farther they got. He was almost caught off guard, when he felt a pair of cold hands against his skin.

Y/N silently kneeled in front of him, starting to treat the small scraps over his arms and shoulders. Her expression was unwavering, as if nothing had happened, and he wondered what she was really thinking about. Was this the first time she saw Kaye after their fight?

“Stop staring,” Y/N mumbled, without looking up at him, while her hands still worked their healing magic.

Neteyam shook his head to deny her request, and continued to watch her every move intently. Irritated, she hooked a finger under his chin and forcefully turned his head to the side, so that he was met with the tent wall. He chuckled weakly at the gesture but kept the new position.

“You can take a breather, you know? I’m not dying, I can wait,” he suggested.

Y/N paused to stare at the side of his face for a moment, giving him a false sense of actually contemplating his offer. Of course, she was going to turn it down, there was no way she could’ve just walked out of the tent. The scolding she’d get from Mo’at wasn’t worth it.

“I can’t,” Y/N pretended to be unbothered, her hands continuing to work over his forearm, where a few smaller cuts were in need of a soothing balm.

“Why not? I won’t mind,” Neteyam turned his face again to look at her.

“Because I can’t leave my destined mate unattended, can I?” Y/N's voice dripped with irony, and she couldn't resist stealing a quick glance at him, searching for a reaction.

Neteyam's frown deepened, caught off guard by the repetition of his own words. Was that a bad slip? Maybe she took what he said in a way where Neteyam only valued Y/N for her skills, rather than her as a person. Disappointed with himself, he shook his head and then gently covered her hands with his own, halting their movements.

"Y/N, I didn't mean it that way," Neteyam's voice was low, and he waited patiently for her to meet his gaze before continuing, "This... it doesn't matter. I was just kidding. Go on, and take a breather if you need one."

“I know, Neteyam, I was only teasing,” the corners of her mouth twitched in amusement.

For a fleeting moment, Y/N allowed herself to forget that the love of her life was sitting and watching her from across the room. It felt exhilarating to indulge in the playful banter, teasing Neteyam and pretending that they were a blissful couple, free from the weight of their responsibilities.

“You’re teasing,” he breathed out with relief, “Oh… good.”

“Yes,” she rolled her eyes, “And obviously I can’t just take a break right now. Your grandmother will kill me.”

As Y/N returned to tending his scrapes and cuts, Neteyam bit his cheek, thinking for a moment. A sudden surge of courage coursed through him, and he made a decision, quickly standing up and pulling her gently to her feet. His hand found hers, and the movement surely caught the attention of those around them but Neteyam only shrugged, his eyes on Y/N. She was confused, and she couldn't help but glance nervously at Kaye, who had been watching the whole interaction with unease.

“Let’s go,” Neteyam’s thick-accented voice grabbed her attention once more, and without waiting for an answer, he was already walking out of the tent, leading her by the hand with him.

Y/N had little time to react, on the way out, her eyes caught a sight of Mo’at, who shook her head at the interruption and returned back to her task.

“Neteyam,” Y/N hissed embarrassed, but his grip on her, though gentle, remained unmoving.

“My grandmother won’t kill you, if I’m coming with you,” he explained, without even glancing back at her.

“You’re coming with me? Where?” Y/N’s nose scrunched up in confusion.

“Wherever you want.”

Neteyam was never one to protest the rules. Lo’ak liked to tease him about it and call him a “goody-two-shoes,” but Neteyam was too focused on excelling rather than getting offended by his brother’s weak insults. But he also never had enough motivation to disobey. Breaking the rules only brought trouble, and after careful consideration, Neteyam had never deemed it worthwhile. But here, now, as he led Y/N away from her responsibilities to offer her a moment of peace, he decided that it was for a good reason. That it wouldn’t matter if his grandmother got mad at them and he would take the blame anyway, since he initiated it. But if it meant that she didn’t have to keep working while her past lover gawked at her, then maybe it was worth it.

When they were finally away from the tent, Y/N stood right in front of him, their hands still intertwined. Despite trying to stare down at his much bigger frame with disapproval, there were traces of gratitude in her eyes. Her tail swished with excitement, thinking of how great it felt to abandon her day’s duties and just be left alone.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice carrying an earnest tone.

"No need to thank me," Neteyam squeezed her hand, "My mother always reminds me that those who care of others also deserve care in return. I tend to forget it at times, but she's right."

He tugged at her hand once more, his gaze already wandering off to somewhere else. Without hesitation, Y/N willingly trailed behind him along the narrow path that meandered through the Hallelujah Mountains. Neteyam's grasp on her hand remained firm all throughout, neither of them sure if it was to guide her safely or simply to reassure her with his presence.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Walks with Neteyam had shifted from being an obligation to somewhat of an entertainment. They still didn’t speak much, finding peace in the quiet companionship, as they wandered through the forest, away from the eyes of the clan. In those moments, Y/N stopped feeling the pressure of pretending to be happy about her impending union with the future chief, while Neteyam was happy to reconnect with the forest. Since the relocation of the clan to the Hallelujah Mountains, his time in the forest was limited to missions or overseeing his siblings, never to revisiting his past and his roots.

And while to Y/N, this relationship had evolved into a strong foundation for friendship, Neteyam struggled with his growing protectiveness over her. It felt like she might crumble if he wasn't there to watch over, and the mere mention of her past could be her breaking point. These thoughts consumed Neteyam's restless mind, keeping him awake at night. Alongside with them, his frustration towards Kaye and the lack of respect, fueled his anger, as he delivered another forceful hit to his pretend opponent. Was it genuine protectiveness he harbored for Y/N, or was it simply his frustration with Kaye's behavior? Neteyam felt like a hypocrite.

The future chief groaned in frustration, delivering another calculated strike, disarming his opponent, Kaye. But his anger and irritation were blinding, making Neteyam lose his focus, not necessarily in his movements but within the depths of his mind. He couldn’t stop the attacks.

Kaye fell into his parents’ trap and mated with a woman of their choosing. Yet, he seemed content with their decision and he had no trouble leaving Y/N behind. Did he ever even love her, or was he simply leading her on all that time? Either way, Kaye had moved on, and Neteyam had to be the one who watched Y/N try to deal with the fact.

Another powerful shove, and Neteyam swiftly toppled his opponent, sending him sprawling onto his back. His spear was aimed threateningly, directly at the vulnerable spot beneath Kaye's throat. Kaye’s eyes widened in fear, as for a fleeting moment, it seemed like Neteyam might not stop. He immediately lowered his ears in a gesture of submission to the future Olo’eyktan.

“Neteyam, that’s enough,” Jake's voice cut through, jolting Neteyam back to reality.

With an almost aggressive shake of a head, as if trying to force away the nagging thoughts, Neteyam took a step back and lowered his spear. The fight was clearly over and he was the winner, but it barely even felt like a victory.

Neteyam exchanged a look with his father, who was confused with his son’s behavior. To Jake, Neteyam was one of his best warriors, always in control of his emotions and precise with his movements, and it was rare that he got to witness him being overtaken with anger. With a loud sigh, Neteyam still complied with the unspoken rule within the camp and extended his hand to his opponent to pull him to his feet.

Oblivious to the fact that the fight was twice as violent because Neteyam had developed a personal vendetta against him, or perhaps he only chose to be ignorant of it, Kaye offered a small, appreciative smile in response to the extended hand, accepting the help. He dusted off his back and thighs, and before Neteyam could sign a goodbye and leave, Kaye quickly moved to stand in his way.

“I need to talk to Y/N,” he announced, forcing Neteyam to stop in his tracks, “You must see her, right?”

Neteyam clenched his jaw, struggling to contain the anger that still hasn’t died down from the fight. Just when he started to get the things moving for himself and Y/N, just when it seemed like Kaye wouldn’t hurt her anymore, he was suddenly wanting to talk to her? She wouldn’t hide if she wanted to see Kaye, would she?

“I think it’s safe to say that she doesn’t want to talk to you,” Neteyam’s voice trembled slightly, “If I were you, I would have kept my distance. Just like you've grown accustomed to doing over the years.”

“Ouch, I guess I deserved that,” Kaye winced at the comment, “Listen, I am truly sorry for the way things turned out but I never meant to hurt her. I just want to apologize.”

Neteyam simply shook his head, indicating that the explanation fell short of convincing him. If Kaye wanted to speak to Y/N, it would only be on her terms, Neteyam certainly wasn’t going to take part in helping him.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Y/N sat in front of the healing tent in silence, the small wrinkle in between her eyebrows was turning deeper within each passing minute. She was annoyed with Neteyam, who didn’t show up, but mostly she was annoyed with herself for still being there and waiting for him. Her lesson had ended long ago, their usual routine of going for a walk right after was simply abandoned, and Neteyam was nowhere to be found. She knew that he came home a few hours ago, when she heard the shouts of the warriors, and some even came in for a check-up at the tent. So, if he was safe, it puzzled her why he hadn't come. Did he seize an opportunity and forget to warn her not to wait?

She shouldn’t be annoyed though. Wasn’t this exactly what she wished for? To spend less time with him, to be left alone. But it didn’t feel like a win at all, just a let-down. The times when Kaye would sometimes stand her up floated her mind with insecurity. Though it didn’t happen often, she got hurt deeply every time. No amount of apologies from Kaye could ever help her overcome the fear of him simply not showing up one day and giving up on her completely.

Shaking her head, disappointed with herself for wasting time, she stood up, ready to leave. To her surprise, just as she rose, Neteyam appeared right in front of her.

"You waited," he uttered softly, a mix of confusion and gratitude in his voice.

“You made me wait,” she retorted, her irritation impossible to hide as her eyes bore into his.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” Neteyam raised his palms in the air, offering a defeat.

And that’s when Y/N noticed it. Before she could unleash the angry words she had rehearsed in her mind for the past hour, or fully grasp the tinge of pain in his voice, her eyes caught sight of something. A streak of red smeared across Neteyam's forearms, clumsily wiped but not enough to be completely rid of. Almost as if he tried taking care of it himself and failed miserably. Her amber eyes swiftly traced the path of the color, trailing from his ribcage and vanishing around his body, and without a word she circled him, to find his back, covered in awkwardly arranged leaves. She guessed that Neteyam had placed them himself, since some of the wounds were only partially covered, and there was dried off blood all over his skin.

“Neteyam, what the hell happened to you?” Y/N asked, her eyes turning bigger in shock. How long has he been in pain? Why didn’t he come to the healing tent and get it treated? Her mind was flooded with questions.

“It’s nothing,” he mumbled, turning around to face her, though his expression was painted with guilt, “Just a few scratches.”

“These are not just scratches, they look horrible,” Y/N gestured at him once more, “Why didn’t you come to your grandmother? You came home hours ago, no?”

Neteyam flinched at her words. They held the truth, but he didn't want to admit it. There was something embarrassing about getting that many wounds on his back. It meant he hadn't noticed the enemy behind him, which also signified his lack of attentiveness. But how could he pay attention when his whole reality was shifting around him? Neteyam took a step away from her, trying to force a small smile.

“Since you had to wait for so long, let’s go on that walk now, hm? I’ll try to make it up to you,” he tried nonchalantly.

But Y/N was quick to close the distance between him. She grasped his hand and without a word pulled him into the healing tent. Once inside, she gestured for Neteyam to take a seat on one of the rarely used old wooden chairs, thinking that being on her feet would be more convenient when treating his back.

“Seriously, I am okay, we can still go on that walk,” Neteyam tried to reason, but she was already hissing at him in annoyance to stop talking.

His ears lowered in defeat, which he desperately didn’t want to accept, but also secretly had craved. Because even though Neteyam was used to being the one taking care of others, it felt like a sun on his skin, knowing that somebody else was there for him. And he could tell she was mad just by the way she treated him with silence, but the anger was coming from a place of caring.

The wounds he bore were throbbing with pain, located in a difficult-to-reach place. Neteyam hadn't intended to be late; it simply took him longer than expected to dress his injuries. Yet, his heart fluttered with a mixture of relief and gratitude when he spotted Y/N still seated in front of the healing tent, patiently waiting for him. She could have easily left hours ago, so why did she choose to stay?

“You have a whole family of healers, why didn’t you just ask them for help? Why didn’t you ask me?” Y/N sighed.

Neteyam's ears twitched at the touch, a subtle response to the gentleness of her fingers on his back. Soon, the leaf bandages he had grown weary of were being carefully removed, and as she worked, a wave of empathy flowed through her, her tone turning into a softer, more understanding one.

“I know that there is some kind of pride that comes with being the Olo’eyktan’s son, and also this pressure of being perfect and never showing your vulnerabilities. But when you get hurt, Neteyam, none of it should matter.”

“I know, you’re right,” Neteyam admitted guiltily, hanging his head, “I just…”

Y/N tsksed at the incomplete explanation with discontent, taking off the last bandage. Now, fully exposed, Neteyam’s back was covered in multiple gashes arranged at sharp angles around his spine. Fortunately, they hadn't pierced deep enough to cause nerve damage, which meant that Neteyam was quick to react. A damp cloth grazed his skin as Y/N gently wiped away the brown stains of the dried off blood.

“Whether we like it or not, we are a team now,” she continued after a pause, “So you can rely on me.”

He nodded, even though he couldn't see her face. There was a sincerity in her words, something different from before. It didn't feel like mere obligation; it felt like she genuinely meant it, like she truly wanted him to rely on her.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

His earpiece suddenly crackled to life, interrupting the moment, and Neteyam immediately tensed up at the sound of his father’s worried voice. He sat up, and pressed a finger to his wired necklace, speaking into it.

“I am safe, dad, what happened?” Neteyam questioned.

Worried, and unable to hear Jake’s voice on the other end, Y/N quickly came in front of Neteyam, searching his face for clues of what was happening. The future Olo’eyktan seemed to grow more concerned, as he remained quiet to hear his father.

“What is it?” Y/N whispered impatiently, and then she felt it.

Y/N's stomach plummeted as she observed the transformation of Neteyam's expression. What was initially concern now gave way to a haunting mix of guilt and remorse. It was as if he carried the weight of something deeply troubling, something that was unfixable, probably too difficult to say out loud.

“How many of them?” Neteyam spoke again, his eyes still glued to Y/N’s, “And who exactly got shot?”

It felt like the world around her came to a stop, as in these seconds of waiting, Y/N had imagined hundreds of scenarios running through her head. And it could be anything, but the way Neteyam rose to his feet in a hurry, she feared that the worst one was coming to life.

“Is it him?” Y/N’s voice cracked, and Neteyam nodded, pressing his lips into a thin line.

“It is Kaye.”

chapter 5 →

♡ taglist ♡ : @kiri-tuk @samiiistarss @afro-hispwriter @iwantjaketosullyme @thexplosivegirl @peachinsomniac @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @koala-wonderland @sakura-onesan @dimplesxx @i-live-in-a-fantasy-daydream @theycallmesia @crazy4books1 @empiricsad @summertimedepression @vihelm @cleverzonkwombatsludge @ducks118 @couragemydearheart @xstarsmvxz @jkeluv @qtkat @marsbars09 @buckysleftarm420 @soleilmoon @blueslxt-primary @kavyaas-world @books-for-summer @tojis-discord-kitten @nerdybouquetofkittens-blog @jackiehollanderr @totesnothere04

683 notes · View notes

goldengalore · 1 year

Text

Never Alone

An anxious!reader fic.

Summary: Harry wants to meet Y/N’s family, but she is hesitant to introduce him to them and he can’t figure out why. When he discovers the reason, he’s hurt that she felt the need to hide it from him. This makes Harry question Y/N’s feelings for him, while she thinks he’s doubting her anxiety issues.

Word count: 6.8k

Warnings: anxiety, toxic family, invalidation of mental health issues, angst, mentions of sex but no actual smut

A/N: Listened to Matilda and Renegade by Big Red Machine ft. Taylor Swift a ton while writing this. Also, to anyone reading this who has ever felt invalidated about their mental health issues, I see you and I hope you know you are never ever alone ❤️

***

Harry and Y/N hadn’t been dating for very long when he introduced her to his mother, Anne, and his older sister, Gemma.

He knew that meeting them in person for the first time would be stressful for Y/N because of her social anxiety as well as her obsession with making an excellent impression on every single person in his life. So, he cleverly began easing her into it by having her pop in briefly during his usual FaceTime calls with Anne and Gemma.

It worked because when he asked her to come home with him for Christmas, she didn’t even hesitate to say yes. That didn’t mean she wasn’t nervous about it though. Between her anxiety and his excitement, they were both a ball of jitters on the ten-hour flight from LA to London.

Harry’s family fell in love with Y/N. Once she conquered her initial timidness, she fit in perfectly with them. This didn’t come as a surprise to him at all, but Y/N was completely blown away by the love and warmth that his family showered her with. She was even brought to tears from it.

After a joyous holiday with his family, Harry found himself imagining what meeting Y/N’s family would be like. To him, that was the next logical step in their relationship, and he was eagerly anticipating it. So, when they’re a whole year into their relationship and she still hasn’t introduced him to her family or expressed any intention of doing so, he can’t help but wonder what might be holding her back.

She even had the opportunity to do so when she recently visited her family for a few days. She could have taken him with her. He even offered to tag along, but she refused, claiming that her mother had come down with some nasty stomach bug, so it wouldn’t be the best time.

He can’t lie. Her refusal hurt. Although he tries not to make a big deal out of it, it eats at him over the next couple weeks, so one day, he just decides to bring it up.

For most people, it’s a lazy Sunday—the perfect opportunity to sleep in and not get out of bed until noon. Not for Harry and Y/N though. No, the two creative souls got up bright and early to use this time to write and draw. Harry sits on one couch with his guitar in his lap and his songwriting notebook next to him along with his phone, which is recording everything he plays. On the other couch is Y/N, her sketchbook perched up against her bent legs, her pencil gripped between her skillful fingers as she works on a drawing.

Harry has been staring at her for some time now while mindlessly strumming his guitar. She’s too immersed in her task to sense his gaze on her.

“Y/N?”

“Yes, baby?” she responds without looking up from her sketchbook.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Mhm?”

He pauses the recording on his phone before asking, “Why don’t you want me to meet your family?”

The question pulls her attention away from her drawing to his face. The hand holding her pencil is frozen on the paper.

“I told you,” she says softly. “It’s not that I don’t want you to meet them. I’m just... waiting for the right time.”

He cocks a brow. “The right time? Will there ever be a right time? We’ve been together for a year.” He really doesn’t want to sound pushy or demanding, but he also just wants her to know how he feels. “You and my mum are constantly sending each other cat videos. You and Gemma have inside jokes that I’m not even a part of. Meanwhile, I find myself wondering if your family even knows who I am.”

She gives him a small, slightly amused smirk. “H, they know who you are. Trust me.”

“You know what I mean,” he mumbles, looking down at his guitar. Sure, they may know him as “Harry Styles the singer” or “Harry Styles the actor,” but that’s not what matters to him. He just wants them to know him as Y/N’s boyfriend, that’s all.

“They know that we’re in a relationship,” she confirms.

He waits for her to elaborate, but she doesn’t. “Okay... And? How do they feel about that? Do they ask about me? Do they even want to meet me?”

She averts her gaze, her pencil moving across the page again. “They ask about you every time I see them.”

“Then what’s holding you back?” he inquires gently.

Her response is so delayed that he wonders if he’s even going to get one. “I’ll talk to them,” she says after a minute. “We’ll arrange a time for you and me to go see them together.”

His eyebrows lift up in surprise. “Really?”

She nods. “Yeah. If you really want to meet them, I’ll try to make it happen.”

He doesn’t know what to say at first. He didn’t expect her to concede so quickly. “Thank you, lovie,” he says once the words finally come to him.

She just gives him a brief smile and returns to her drawing, making a few more pencil strokes before asking, “Wanna see what I drew?”

“Always.”

She tries to bite back an excited grin as she turns her sketchbook around to show him. He shifts the guitar in his lap and leans forward to take a look. He instantly recognizes himself in the sketch. It’s him sitting as he is now, on the couch with his guitar. Every detail of his facial features is intricately depicted from the focused furrow of his brow to the shape of his nose to the stubble on his jaw.

He stares at it in awe. “That looks amazing.”

“Thanks!”

He tears his gaze away from the sketch and looks at her. “You were drawing me this whole time? I thought you were brainstorming ideas for your next piece.”

“I was, but you just looked so cute sitting there with your guitar. I mean, you were practically begging to be drawn.” She shoots him a flirtatious grin.

“Mhm. Right.” He shakes his head at her, smiling. “Can I keep it?”

“Of course.” She carefully rips the page out of her book and hands it over to him.

“Another one for the collection,” he states happily, referring to his growing collection of sketches that she’s drawn of him over the past year. In the beginning, she used to hide them from him. Then one day, he stumbled upon her sketchbook sitting on the dining table, opened up to a page containing a flawless illustration of his Vogue magazine cover, and he was astounded. Y/N’s whole face flushed red when she found him staring at it, but he was quick to reassure her that he liked it and asked if he could keep it.

“I don’t mind, you know. That you like drawing me,” he told her that day. “It’s a compliment, if anything, and it’s no different than me writing songs about you.”

Her face brightened at his revelation. “You write songs about me?”

“All the time.”

Ever since that conversation, she no longer hesitates to show him these drawings and he makes sure to keep each one in a safe place.

“I still can’t believe you’ve been saving them all,” she says now. “You really haven’t thrown a single one away?”

“I could never.”

***

A whole week passes by, and it’s like their conversation about arranging a time to meet Y/N’s family never even happened because she doesn’t bring it up again. Harry starts to wonder if she only said that to appease him for a while and stop him from asking. That annoys him. It would be one thing to tell him that she doesn’t want him to meet her family; it’s another to make false promises just to shut him up.

He wishes he could drop it. But he can’t. Especially now that he is almost certain that she’s hiding something from him.

She has a meeting today with the owner of an esteemed art gallery in LA, who offered her the opportunity to hold her first solo art exhibition. She has spent the last couple months preparing for the exhibition, which is less than two weeks away. Her best friend and business partner, Rosie, will be accompanying her to the meeting. Rosie shows up at Harry’s house around 10:30 that morning.

“Y/N’s upstairs, still getting ready,” he tells her after inviting her in. “Should be down soon though.”

“I’m surprised I’m ready before her for once. That’s quite the accomplishment for me.”

“Yeah, I, um—” He releases a sheepish laugh, touching his fingers to his lips. “I may have made her a bit late getting out of bed this morning.”

Rosie opens her mouth to say something, then closes it. He raises his brows at her expectantly, but she waves a dismissive hand and says, “Oh, I was just going to ask what you two were up to, but then I answered my own question.”

A coy grin tugs at the corners of his lips, as the memories of his sensual morning with Y/N play back in his mind.

He and Rosie take a seat in the living room. He offers her something to eat or drink while they wait, but she politely declines. That’s when the thought occurs to him. If there is anyone who knows Y/N better than him, it would be her best friend, who has known her for the majority of her adult life. Surely, if Y/N is hiding something from him, Rosie could be the key to helping him figure out what and why.

“Hey, this might be a random question, but have you ever met Y/N’s family?” he asks.

“Yeah, a few times.”

“What are they like?”

Her hazel eyes narrow slightly. “Why do you ask?”

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “Don’t you think it’s a bit strange that Y/N and I have been together for a year and she still hasn’t introduced me to her family?”

Rosie hesitates. She glances over her shoulder at the stairs before answering quietly, “Look, let’s just say... Her family isn’t very supportive of her.”

His heart sinks. “Shit. Really?”

She nods. “They’re like the type of people who think mental health problems aren’t real problems or that tough love can fix everything, including anxiety.”

He winces.

“Yeah…”

“Well, that explains a lot,” he says, referring not only to Y/N’s reluctance to introduce him to her family but also her emotional reaction to his family accepting her with open arms. “Why didn’t she just tell me that? I would’ve understood.”

“You know how Y/N is. She keeps a lot to herself, and she doesn’t even do it on purpose most of the time.”

“I know, but...” He shrugs. “I just thought we’d reached that stage in our relationship where we could tell each other anything. At least that’s how I feel when I’m with her.”

She had so many chances to tell him the truth about her family. Even if she didn’t want to get into the nitty-gritty details of it, all she had to do was tell him that they’re not nice people for him to drop the topic altogether. He feels guilty now for bringing up her family so much, but she never gave him any indication that they were bad people. Even when she went to visit them recently, it didn’t seem like she was dreading it. So, how was Harry supposed to know? How can he possibly know anything about her if she refuses to open up to him?

They hear her footsteps rapidly descending the stairs now.

“I’m ready!” she shouts.

Her outfit for the meeting is sleek and professional—a teal blouse loosely tucked into a pair of slim, high-waisted black trousers. Harry helped her pick it out this morning when she was struggling to decide between a few different options.

“How late are we?” she asks breathlessly at the bottom of the stairs.

Rosie checks her phone. “Not that late. We can still get there with five minutes to spare.”

As Rosie heads to the door, Y/N walks over to Harry to kiss him goodbye.

“Bye, baby. I’ll see you later,” she says.

He squeezes her hand. “Best of luck with the meeting. Remember to breathe.”

“I’ll try!”

And then she’s off.

***

Sometimes, Y/N can’t tell if someone is actually behaving differently around her or if her anxiety is causing her to see things that aren’t there. There have been instances where she thought someone was acting off around her and became convinced that they were upset with her only to find out that they were just having a bad day and it had nothing to do with her at all.

She wonders if this might be the case with Harry. He has been acting strange the past few days. The shift in behaviour is subtle. A kiss that ends a moment too soon, a smile that doesn’t quite reach the eyes, a laugh that feels just a little bit forced. Most people wouldn’t take notice. But the thing about anxiety is that it forces you to notice everything. It’s as if the brain is in a constant state of hypervigilance, scanning its environment for the slightest sign of a threat.

Harry has been at the studio all day. She saw him briefly around seven o’clock this morning when her eyes fluttered open to find him all showered and dressed for the day, grabbing his phone off the nightstand.

“Heading to the studio. Love you,” he told her, planting a hasty kiss to her forehead before leaving.

She couldn’t fall back asleep after that, so she decided to start her day too and put some finishing touches on the drawings for her upcoming exhibit. However, her overthinking mind made it impossible to focus. She ultimately decided to take her drawings over to her apartment and work there instead.

Over the past six months, she has practically lived at Harry’s house with how much time she spends there. But her apartment has always been there in case she needs some time alone or, like today, she just needs a change of scenery to sharpen her focus.

It didn’t occur to her at any point to text Harry and let him know where he can find her after he finishes up at the studio. Or perhaps, her subconscious made her withhold that information on purpose to see if he would even notice or care for her absence.

Late that evening, she receives a call from him.

“Hey, where’d you go?” he asks when she picks up.

“Oh, I’m at my apartment. Couldn’t focus today, so I thought I’d try working here instead.”

“Hm. Wish you’d told me. I would’ve headed straight there from the studio.”

“Sorry,” she mumbles in response.

“It’s all right. Be there in a few.”

“Okay. See you soon.”

A nervousness seeps through her after their call. A kind of nervousness she hasn’t felt since the very early days of their relationship when she wasn’t quite comfortable around him yet. She doesn’t like this feeling and tries to distract herself by cleaning up the kitchen where she just finished having dinner not too long ago.

Harry has a spare key to her apartment, just like she has one to his house, so when she hears it turn in the lock, she knows it’s him. Her heart is in her throat.

She’s washing her hands in the kitchen sink when the door opens.

“Hi, my love,” he greets her. He’s wearing her merch today. Well, technically, it’s his merch that she helped design. Their merch, as he would call it.

“Hey,” she replies. As she wipes her hands on the towel by the sink, he walks up behind her and slides his arms around her waist, burying his face in her hair. She turns around to face him. “How was your day?” For some reason, the question comes out sounding awkward, at least in her head, but Harry seems unfazed.

“Productive. We wrote so much today. Song after song. I couldn’t believe it. Tyler suggested we pull an all-nighter, but everyone was tired, so we decided to go home…” A dimpled smile emerges on his face as he adds, “And I wanted to see you, so…”

He plants a sweet, lingering kiss to her lips. She should feel the stress dissipating from her body. She should feel a sense of calm washing over her like cool ocean waves on a hot summer day. But none of that happens.

His hand sneaks under her shirt, squeezing her bare waist before wandering upward to her breast.

“Sorry,” she says, pulling away suddenly. “I, um, I’m not in the mood tonight.”

He blinks a few times, thrown for a moment. “Oh. Okay. No worries.” He takes a step back and scratches the back of his neck, eyes searching her face. “Everything okay?”

She doesn’t meet his gaze. “Yeah, I think I’m just starting my period soon, so you know…”

“Ah. Well, maybe we can just cuddle then. If you’re in the mood for that.”

“Mhm.”

They lay on her plush black couch together, her head on his shoulder, his fingers running through the lengths of her hair. He’s humming some unknown melody—probably a new song he’s been working on. She feels her heartbeat slowing down, finally.

Then he says, “Hey, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”

Her heart picks up again. This is it. This is what she’s been dreading. She has no idea what he’s about to say, but of course, her mind jumps to the worst case scenario.

“Yeah?” she says, trying to keep her voice level.

“It’s about something Rosie told me.”

She frowns. “Something Rosie told you? What would that be?”

“She told me about your family, how they… they’re not supportive of you and your struggles.”

Her frown deepens. “She told you that?” She sits up now. “Why would she do that? She has no right to be sharing that kind of information about me.”

He sits up too, confusion taking hold of his features. “It’s not like she shared it with some stranger, lovie. I’m your boyfriend. Why is it so bad that she told me?”

“Because I didn’t want…” She trails off.

“You didn’t want me to know?”

She wordlessly looks down in her lap.

“Why?” he asks, the hurt apparent in his voice.

Forcing herself to look at him, she answers, “I didn’t want to disappoint you. You seemed so excited to meet them, and you bring them up all the time—”

“Yeah, that was when I knew nothing about them. If I’d known how they’d treated you, why the fuck would I want to meet them?” He runs a hand through his hair, clutching the ends briefly before letting go. “And I brought them up all the time because you were always so bloody vague about the topic. What was I— What was I meant to think? I’m not a mind-reader, Y/N.”

“I know. I know you’re not a mind-reader.” She tries to reach out to him, but he doesn’t seem to notice her outstretched hand as he turns away, so she lets it fall on the couch.

“Well, sometimes I feel like you expect me to be one because you never tell me how you really feel or what you’re really thinking, and I’m left to figure it out on my own.”

“Okay, that’s not true.” She shakes her head, growing a bit defensive now. “I know I used to be like that in the beginning, but you can’t tell me I haven’t gotten better since then because I have. You’re just angry right now and I—I can understa—”

“I’m not angry,” he insists, though he sounds pretty close to it, and it’s making her panic because although she has seen him get angry before, it’s never been at her.

His eyes fall shut for a moment. He seems to compose himself before continuing calmly, “I’m just frustrated because I feel like I’ve told you everything about me, I’ve bared my entire fucking soul to you, and I know it’s not as easy for you to do the same, but it’s not like it’s a walk in the park for me either. You say that it’s your anxiety that keeps you from opening up to me, but at this point, I can’t help but wonder if you just don’t feel as strongly about me as I feel about you.”

She flinches at the last part, a sense of betrayal settling like rocks in her stomach. “Y—you think I use my anxiety as an excuse?”

“That is not what I said.”

“That’s what you implied.”

“No,” he stresses, clenching his jaw. “You’re purposely misunderstanding me.”

“Why are you here, Harry?”

Puzzled green eyes stare back at her. “What?”

“This has clearly been on your mind for some time now. If you really think that I don’t feel strongly about you, that my anxiety is just some cover-up, then why are you still wasting your time with me?” Her heart thuds wildly in her chest as she spouts, “Is it just for the sex? Is that it? I mean, that’s why you came here tonight, right? Just for a quick fuck. And when you couldn’t have that, you decided to pick a fight with me.”

It was mean. Quite possibly—no, definitely—the meanest thing she has ever said to or about him. And it was undeserved. And she regrets the words as soon as they leave her mouth.

The expression on his face switches from disbelief to disgust to pure pain in a matter of seconds.

“Yeah,” he says, swallowing thickly. “You’re right. That’s what I’m here for, Y/N. Just a quick fuck. Because I’m some lowlife prick that would use you for sex and get mad when I can’t have it. You figured it out. Amazing job.” He claps his hands and stands up, taking long strides to the door.

“Wh—where are you going?” she stammers.

He ignores her and shoves his socked feet into his Vans. On shaky legs, she hurries over to him.

“H, where are you going?”

As his left hand reaches for the doorknob, she grabs his other one.

“No, wait, don’t go.”

“No, you’ve made it clear to me the kind of person you think I am. Thanks for your honesty, Y/N.” He speaks without looking at her. She can only see his side profile, but it’s enough to catch the tears forming in his eyes.

He tries to pull his hand away, but she squeezes it tighter, pleading with him, “I didn’t mean it. Please don’t go. Baby, please—”

“I’m tired, Y/N,” he sighs out, sounding utterly exhausted. “I just want to go home.”

He manages to yank his hand free from her grasp and leaves the apartment, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Y/N stands there, staring at it for the longest time, before making her way back to the couch in a daze.

She doesn’t know why she said it. He was just trying to explain his inner thoughts and feelings, not attacking her, but her brain latched onto that one comment about her anxiety and blew it way out of proportion. It struck a nerve somewhere inside her, reopening old wounds created by people in her past who invalidated her struggles.

But Harry is nothing like those people. No, he is a far cry from them. No one has shown her the level of kindness and understanding that he has, and she fears that no one else ever will, which makes the thought of losing him catastrophically more painful.

She lies down on her side on the couch, curling her legs into herself as the first sob of many escapes her body.

***

The big day has arrived.

Y/N’s very first solo art exhibition that she’s been working her ass off on for the past few months takes place tonight. The gallery that offered to display her work made an agreement with her to donate a portion of the profits to a local mental health charity—something that Y/N has always wanted to do. She’s always dreamed of using her art to give back to causes that matter to her, and she is finally at the stage where she can do that.

Her art career has taken off this past year. She was doing well before, but this year has catapulted her career to heights she couldn’t have imagined. She knows Harry has a lot to do with it, since the limited edition merch she designed for him attracted millions of new eyes to her work, not to mention the fact that she started dating him afterwards, which further piqued people’s curiosity about her as a person and an artist. But Harry, being the humble man he is, argues that it’s her talent that keeps bringing people back to her work, not him.

Whether he admits it or not, Harry has changed her life in more ways than one. Even if he never speaks to her again, she will be thanking him for the rest of her life.

Over the past week, she has typed a hundred different apologies to him, deleting each one without sending it, convincing herself that it’s not good enough, that he doesn’t want to hear from her, that he probably hates her guts.

She has missed him all week, but tonight, that feeling cements itself deep inside her chest, mixing perilously with the fear of having to talk about her art with strangers. It would’ve helped to have Rosie here at least, but her fiancé’s mother was in the hospital after a medical emergency and she needed to be there for them.

Y/N feels incredibly alone.

The people working at the gallery have been lovely. She hardly had to do anything at all because they took care of the entire setup. Now, they’re preparing the refreshments table, and just the mere sight of all that food is making her nauseous.

As hard as she tries to keep her shit together, she crumbles and bolts towards the exit. One of the gallery workers tries to inform her that the exhibit is about to start, but she barely hears him through her heart pounding in her ears. Once outside, she starts walking down the sidewalk in a random direction and finds an opening between two buildings where she can take a moment to herself, away from other people.

The fresh air entering her lungs is somewhat soothing, so she tries to focus on that, leaning a hand against one of the buildings.

“Y/N?” says a deep, familiar voice from behind her.

It can’t be, she thinks to herself, but when she turns around, there he is. Standing on the sidewalk. Dressed in dark, indiscriminate clothing and a hat, which casts a shadow over most of his handsome features. He’s wearing his Gucci square-framed glasses that make him look like a college student.

“Harry? What are you doing here?”

He steps towards her, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I was sat in the cafe across the street, waiting for your exhibit to start. Saw you run out. Are you okay?”

Instead of answering his question, she asks in a weak voice, “You came to see my exhibit?”

“Of course I did,” he says, as if the concept of him missing it is unfathomable. He places his hands on his hips and adds with a faint smirk, “You think I, your number one fan, would miss out on your first solo exhibit? C’mon.”

Tears flood Y/N’s eyes, blurring her vision.

Harry’s face falls. “Oh no. Don’t cry, lovie.”

The tears streak down her cheeks now, ruining the makeup she spent so long on applying tonight. “I thought you hated me.”

He reaches towards her and delicately places his hands on her arms. “I could never hate you.”

“But you should! You should hate me because you’ve been nothing but patient and understanding with me and I treated you like shit in return and I hate myself for it and I’m so sorry—”

“It’s okay—”

“No, it’s not!”

“Shh, come here.” He pulls her into his arms, cradling her head against his chest, holding her there until she calms down. Then he draws back and lifts her chin to make her look at him. “Listen to me. I did not come here to make you cry and ruin your big night, okay? I came here to support you. Now you’re going to put on that beautiful smile of yours and you’re going to go back in there and you’re going to put on this wonderful exhibit—”

“I don’t think I can.” She shakes her head.

“Yes, you can. You’ve worked so hard for this, my love. You deserve this. Don’t let your fear tell you otherwise.”

She sniffles, thinking for a moment. “You’re going to be there?”

“Yes. The whole time,” he reassures her. “I promise to be discreet though. I’m not about to steal the spotlight from you.”

“I wouldn’t mind even if you did, to be honest.”

“See, that’s the fear talking.” He pokes her softly in the chest. “This is your night and your night only.”

A part of her wishes he would just pull her back into his arms and let her stay there forever, safe and warm and comfortable. But he’s right. She has worked too hard and come too far to allow fear to stifle her now.

“Okay,” she says finally. “Okay, I’m going to go back in.”

He smiles widely. “That’s my girl.” He kisses her and sends her off with a few more encouraging words.

For the first fifteen minutes of the exhibit, as the first batch of visitors trickle into the gallery, the voice in Y/N’s head is screaming at her to run out the nearest exit and not look back. It takes everything in her to keep her feet planted where she is and withstand the racing heart and the churning stomach and the sweaty palms.

It isn’t until people start coming up to her to ask questions about her art that she begins to feel any semblance of calm, which is surprising, considering that this is the part she was most afraid of. Once she gets into artist mode, articulating her artistic ideas and techniques in front of these strangers comes naturally.

She spots Harry every now and then, wandering around the gallery with everyone else, blending in remarkably well in his dark clothes and hat and glasses. At one point, while she’s talking to someone, she sees Harry in the distance, holding up his phone with the camera aimed at her. He winks when he catches her eye.

By the last half hour of the exhibit, Y/N’s throat is dry and hoarse from talking so much. She can’t believe how many people were interested in discussing her work with her.

While she’s taking a break to have some water, she hears someone shout, “There she is!”

She turns to find Jeff and Glenne walking towards her, smiling and waving like proud parents.

“So sorry we’re late,” says Glenne. “Traffic was a nightmare.”

Y/N shakes her head. “No, it’s totally fine. I didn’t even know you were coming.”

“Are you kidding?” says Jeff. “We’ve been looking forward to this.”

Y/N told them about the exhibit when she and Harry invited them over for dinner last month. She didn’t expect them to remember. The fact that they did means everything.

“We were going to buy something, but it looks like everything’s sold out, huh?” says Jeff, looking around.

“Oh, we’re so coming early for the next one,” says Glenne.

Y/N smiles at the determination in her voice. “Thank you for coming. You guys have no idea how much it means to me.”

Her heart is so full. Whereas the night started with her feeling petrified and alone, she now feels more loved and supported than ever. To say that the exhibit was a success is an understatement, and having Harry, Jeff, and Glenne all there for her was the cherry on top because success tastes so much sweeter when you have people to share it with.

***

Harry is bursting with pride. Watching Y/N put on this exhibit tonight has been quite a treat. She has blossomed from someone who used to not think very highly of her artistic capabilities into a self-assured artist right before his eyes, and he has loved being able to witness her growth.

Now they’re at his house, having Thai food, and Y/N, who hasn’t eaten all day due to nerves, is devouring everything so quickly that he worries he might not have ordered enough food for them. Luckily, that doesn’t end up being the case.

Afterwards, as they’re placing their dishes in the sink, Y/N tells him, “I saw you sneaking pictures of me at the exhibit. Like a little fanboy.”

He laughs. “I hope you don’t mind. You just looked so in your element.”

She bites her lip. “Can I see them?”

“Sure.” He takes his phone out of his pocket and opens up his camera roll. He places it on the counter so they can both look together.

Each photo shows Y/N talking to people who came to see her work, her hands poised in the air as she describes her creative process or her inspiration behind a specific piece.

“You look so confident,” he comments. “And happy.” He looks up at her from his phone and nudges her softly with his arm. “I’m proud of you.”

For a second, it seems like she’s about to break down into tears again but then contains herself.

“I really don’t deserve you,” she says.

He gives her a gentle look, knowing that she’s referring to the hurtful words she fired at him that night in her apartment. The words that burrowed deep under his skin for a few days until he gained some clarity and realized that she’d only said them because she felt attacked, that she didn’t actually believe them. Of course, that didn’t make it okay, but it did soften him towards her a little. And knowing Y/N, he could safely assume that she was far angrier at herself than he was at her.

“Y/N, I know you didn’t mean what you said. I mean, it still fucking hurt, but I know they were just words said in the heat of the moment… Right?”

“Yes,” she replies without hesitation. “And I’m so sorry, not just about what I said that night, but also what I didn’t say about my family, for hiding that from you.”

“No, I never should’ve pushed you to tell me in the first place.”

“But you never pushed me, Harry.” She turns her body towards him fully, leaning against the counter. “You just asked because you were curious about that part of my life, the same way I was curious about your family before I met them. It’s just that my family is… They’re nothing like yours. It’s not like they’re terrible people. They’re just not warm or affectionate, and they see any display of emotion as a sign of weakness.”

He quirks a brow. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, lovie, but they sound like robots.”

“You’re not far off,” she replies with a shrug. “They have this toughness, this stoic resolve that I used to envy when I was younger, until I realized that I didn’t want to be like that at all. As a child though, when your whole family is like that and you’re the anxious one who can’t get your emotions under control, it’s hard to feel normal. My parents didn’t know how to handle my anxiety, so they tried to mold me into them, and when that didn’t work, they just started denying my feelings altogether. Every time I would try to talk about my feelings, they would shut me down, tell me to suck it up and toughen up and stop being so goddamn sensitive.”

Hearing that makes Harry’s chest ache. Y/N is a sensitive person, sure, but he never viewed that as a shortcoming. In fact, it’s one of the many things that drew him to her because he is the same way. His sensitivity has allowed him to be more empathetic in his relationships and more vulnerable in his music—qualities that he also noticed in Y/N.

“I got tired of trying to explain it to them,” she continues, “so I left and tried to make something out of my art career. And God, my parents hated that. They were never the creative types; they thought anything related to art was a waste of time. They kept telling me I was wasting my potential to be something bigger, something better than an artist. And at one point, I started believing them, but then I met people like Rosie, who weren’t emotionless robots and who actually appreciated art for what it is.

“And I made a life for myself out here, pouring my heart and soul into my art, and I’ve tried so hard to keep this new, amazing part of my life separate from that part because I don’t want them to ruin this for me.”

“That’s why you didn’t want me to meet them?” he asks gently.

“Well, that and the fact that they’re convinced that you’re just some hotshot superstar stringing me along while sleeping with ten other girls at the same time because they don’t see how someone like you could ever fall in love with someone like me. And they make sure to remind me of that every time I go see them, which is just so fun,” she says sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

Harry doesn’t really care that her parents see him as some pompous asshole obsessed with sex. What does bother him, however, is that they try to make Y/N feel like she somehow doesn’t meet his standards, that she isn’t good enough for him because that couldn’t be further from the truth.

“How come you still visit them?” he asks. “Not judging, just curious.” If it were up to him, he would never let them see her again.

She sighs. “I don’t know. I guess I always felt obligated to? I felt like they did care about me, even if they sucked at showing it. But the older I get and especially this past year, I feel less obligated to put up with their shit. I’ll probably keep visiting for now, just not as often anymore.”

“You don’t have to deal with them alone, you know.” He takes her hand in his. “I’m more than willing to go along for moral support.”

“That’s really sweet, but… It’s hard enough hearing them say disrespectful things about you when you’re not there. If you were there, I think I might start throwing hands.”

He chuckles. The idea of his dear sweet Y/N, who couldn’t hurt a fly, threatening to fight her family for disrespecting him makes him melt inside.

“Okay, well, I understand if you’d prefer to go on your own,” he says. “My offer still stands though, if you change your mind.”

She smiles. ��Thank you. I appreciate that. And I promise to be more open and honest with you moving forward. I really am trying.”

“I know you are.” He looks down at their hands, rubbing his thumb over the back of hers. “Can’t be easy when you were told to bury your feelings down all through your childhood.”

“Yeah…”

When he looks up from their hands, he finds a peculiar look on her face, her eyes tender and almost hypnotic as they stare back at him.

He frowns slightly. “What?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing. Just feeling extra lucky tonight.”

“Oh.” He smiles, nearly blushing under her intense gaze. “Sooo, when’s the next exhibit? Because I have some suggestions.”

Her brows lift up curiously. “Suggestions?”

“Yeah, mostly for the refreshments table. I feel it was a bit lacking.”

She gasps. “Not the refreshments table! I worked so hard on that!”

“Hm, well, clearly not hard enough.”

She pouts. He chuckles and pinches her bottom lip before leaning in for a kiss, stopping just by her lips.

“I love you so much,” he whispers.

“Love you more.” She completes the kiss.

***

Thank you for reading! For more anxious!reader and other fics, check out my MASTERLIST

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fic #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #anxious!reader #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #my writing

2K notes · View notes

anystalker707 · 11 months

Text

"Show me how to kiss?"

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x [gender neutral] Reader Summary: Two imagines one in which you ask Sanji to show you what it is like to kiss and another one in which he's the one to ask. Tags: Gentleman Sanji !! / Also babygirl Sanji, ofc / Very sweet, y'kno / Sanji can't help himself / You can't either, but it's nice seeing him caving in / Very romantic Check out (Roronoa Zoro's version)

MASTERLIST

If you’re the one to ask him...

All of that kind of got you frustrated. Robin had recommended you a book, a book that was too immersive for its own good. Since living as a pirate took most of your time, you’d never really thought about it until you started reading that; the book stuck in your mind a little too long, hence it wasn’t difficult hearing the others once in a while telling you to come back to earth.

It was difficult not thinking about the book the entire time. The way the couple kissed... What did it feel like? Having the lips of someone you like pressed against yours, their tongue running against your lip...

“I told you to pull the halyard, (y/n)! Are you listening?” Nami’s voice cut through your thoughts. Fuck, you spaced out again.

“Sorry, Nami-san!” You shout in return, finally doing as said. Damn it. That book really caught you, leaving you wondering whether you liked the story itself or if all those descriptions just caught your attention. A sigh escaped your lips as you finished pulling the sail and, along with Nami and Zoro, you finished preparing the ship for the night.

With dinner already being served, it didn’t take long until everyone was going back to their quarters—or just falling asleep wherever, in Luffy’s case. All the lights were off, only with a dim beam coming from the window on the door of the galley. Today’s night watch was Sanji’s. You sort of had been waiting for that.

Sanji had always been there for you, really—aside from all the flirting, he did take his time to check up on you and hang out, sometimes inviting you to help him finish decorating whatever dessert he was preparing for the crew just so you two could talk. It was something else, so you couldn’t really help looking at Sanji with a different tone after you started reading that damn book Robin recommended to you. His lips seemed extra attractive as he talked to you yesterday when you made him company while he prepared lunch, shaping nicely around every word he spoke. Sometimes you asked him to repeat himself; he probably thought you were dumb, damn.

Only the soft sound of the waves filled the ambient aside from the occasional creaking of wood under your feet as you started heading upstairs to reach the galley. You stood there for a long moment before you finally knocked on the door, sighing, and walked in.

“Sanji?” You closed the door behind yourself; Sanji was by the sink and looked back at you over his shoulder with a smile.

“(Y/n)-chan! What brings you here?” He grinned. “It’s already late, y’know? Why haven’t you gone to sleep already? Such a pretty warrior like you needs a good night of sleep, my dear.” And even if he just had his back to you at the moment, you could still picture how he would’ve winked otherwise. Why did Sanji have to be so charming? He kinda reminded you of the guy in the book you were reading, all romantic, with those kisses... But better, of course.

Okay, whatever, that’s not the point.

You clear your throat, shaking your head as you lean forward with your forearms on the cold surface of the counter. “Right. I want a favor.”

“A favor?” Sanji turned off the sink and turned to you, wiping his hands dry on his apron. He had no blazer or tie this time, with the top buttons of his shirt unbuttoned and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Your eyes quickly met his again and you nodded, taking a deep breath. “Yeah. Something simple, but... Like, you can refuse it.”

Sanji furrowed his eyebrows. “Right, but what’s it?”

Fuck. That was going to be harder than you thought. Your eyes averted away. “Yeah. You’re, like, the only person I trust and also the one who’s probably the best for this,” you mumbled, but immediately paused again—rambling wasn’t a good idea—, “like... Could you show me how to kiss? As I said, it’s fine if you don’t accept it, but it would be really nice if you—”

“...You’ve never kissed anyone before?” Sanji blinked a couple of times.

“Don’t tease me, Sanji,” you sighed, standing up properly and scratching the back of your neck. “I never really had the time, never really thought about it, y’know, but...”

“No, no,” Sanji sighed as he stepped closer. “That’s not what I mean, darling. The thing is, are you sure you’re going to give your first kiss to me? It’s something special, after all. You must think really well about it.”

Why did Sanji have to complicate things? It felt like you’d just explode at some point because of the whole tension, even more with how he acted. You just wanted to vanish or something, pretend that never happened.

“Sanji... You’re, like, special enough.” You shrugged, but then the way he started to blush made you rethink your words. Could that just get worse? “Ah, c’mon, I just...”

“Right, right.” Sanji quickly nodded—maybe he knew what you thought, since he was good at reading you and catching onto clues in general. “I’m honestly honored. You’re very sweet, my dear. I’m going to make it simple, okay?” He grinned wide as he usually did and walked around the counter to come closer, standing right in front of you after you turned around, leaning back against the counter and holding onto the edges.

You nodded, your eyes catching onto every little movement, from the way he adjusted his clothes out of instinct to the way there was a nervous trembling tugging onto the corner of his lips.

Sanji’s tongue poked out, running between his lips as he leaned in, a hand gripping onto the edge counter by each of your sides. His breath fanned over your face, and the smell of his cologne with a hint of tobacco filled your lungs. “Just try to go along with what I do, okay?” He whispered, waiting for you to nod before he finally closed the distance between you two.

Sanji’s lips pressed to yours softly, warm and gentle, as if he was afraid to do something wrong. His mouth broke the contact only for a second as, instead of having your bottom lip between his, he had your upper lip now; you tried to follow his gentle motions, your lips clumsily moving against his. Sanji still remained calm, keeping the same slow pace of the kiss until you could finally kiss back properly.

It was a hard task, actually. How could you keep yourself calm while you finally kissed someone? And, hold on, it wasn’t anyone. It was Sanji.

“Good?” Sanji whispered, his eyes looking into yours so intently you could feel your heart beating more while your face felt so hot; still, you nodded. He smiled in response. “Can I do it again, my dear?”

How were you even supposed to handle that? “Yes, yes,” you whispered, maybe a little more excited than you intended, but it didn’t matter.

Sanji soon pressed his lips against yours again, and things were smoother this time. The kiss felt different, even if it all was essentially the same thing as before. Your heart fluttered in your chest, your fingers tightening a little around the marble as you tried to focus more on how his lips felt against yours; from the way your lips slid together to how his breath fanned against the space between your upper lip and your nose— And oh, also how his mustache would tickle whenever it grazed your skin, the same way it would tickle when his goatee brushed your chin. It was fucking better than anything you could ever have imagined. Better than what the books could have described.

You sighed softly, about to move your hand to his shoulder when Sanji pulled away a little, but he quickly kissed you again, making you gasp when his tongue ran against your bottom lip. It made a shiver run down your spine, having something stirring in your chest as your lips parted slightly.

The kiss finally broke, and your lips still felt tingly even so. You caught your breath, blinking before you finally looked at Sanji, your heart still beating fast and face still warm.

“Sanji—”

“Was that good, my dear?” There was something different in his voice.

“Of course.” Admitting it out loud made you want to disappear again.

Sanji smiled, exhaling in relief. “That’s great.”

“What’s wrong?” You furrowed your eyebrows; your hand met Sanji’s so easily, just with a light shift as you just wanted to adjust your hand against the counter. You keep it there, though, on top of his.

Sanji’s eyes averted away, a sigh escaping his lips. “It was wrong of me.”

“...Hm?”

“Wrong to enjoy it while I was just doing you a favor. I’m so sorry, my dear,” he whispered.

“What do you mean?” You glanced away. “I... Sanji, that was so... Like, you made my heart skip beats, that...”

A red tone took over Sanji’s cheeks and his eyes widened before he looked at you. “Really?”

You nodded, chuckling. “Really.”

“Would you mind if I did it again?” He grinned again, wagging his eyebrows a little.

Your eyes averted away and you tried to bite back a smile. “...Of course not.”

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

If he asks you...

Sanji didn’t fucking know what he was going to do. The crew had been staying on an island for a while, partying away and relaxing after they saved yet other people from someone who threatened their peace. Unexpectedly, it earned him a date with one of the girls in the city that he met in a local bar through his characteristic flirting. So far so good, right? Actually, no. That was the first person who actually got that far with him, so he didn’t even know how to kiss—the only experience he had was pecking lips with whoever he got closer with, never actually kissing.

Maybe someone would help him with it? Because Sanji sure as hell didn’t want to lose that opportunity. It really was the first time he had gotten that far. He could ask Nami, right? Only if he was ready to hear her teasing at him the whole time and still dare ask him an immeasurable amount of berries for the ‘favor’. Robin would be nice, but it still wasn’t a great choice—she would be a tease in her own, harsh way, and Sanji didn’t want to lose the bit of respect he had with her. The men—out of question. No.

Then... There was you.

It didn’t seem like you would refuse his request, and Sanji was—almost—sure you knew how to kiss. Not to mention that you had such pretty lips that he couldn’t help imagining how they would feel against his and— Okay, that’s not the focus. He just had to get ready for a date, that, shamefully, wasn’t with you.

Sanji stood there in the kitchen, polishing glasses as he observed you finish eating breakfast while the rest of the crew already started to leave the galley; Zoro had chased Usopp and Luffy out of the kitchen most of the others was already off to their duties, only leaving you talking with Robin about a book she had in hand. Robin would lift her book or open at specific pages to show you something while you sipped on your juice until she eventually stood up with a sigh and left, waving at you.

Now was his chance.

“(Y/n)-swan...” Sanji’s voice cut through the galley in its mellow tone, almost as if it were a plea already, making you raise an eyebrow at him from your place at the table. “I may need your help with something, my dear.” He was thankful he was behind the counter so you wouldn’t have a full look on how weak you made you.

“What’s it?” You sipped on your juice as you looked at him. It was normal seeing Sanji blushing and fawning over people, but it wasn’t exactly your case; he used to be shy around you, though not really as squirmy as he was at the moment.

Sanji took a deep breath in a fruitless attempt of easing the fluster. “You know how to kiss, right?” He remembered you would talk with some people whenever the crew would party on islands, which was enough to make him jealous and worsen his nervousness in a way his flirting just stopped working with everyone else. Until now, it seemed.

You furrowed your eyebrows. Why was that even important? “...Yeah, I do.” The way Sanji looked at you made you rethink the events of the last week to check if you’d done anything wrong. Had you? Maybe last night when you—

“I...” Sanji sighed. “Can you come here?”

With a quick look around—was it a prank?—, you downed your juice before standing up. “What’s it?” You stood across from him, on the other side of the counter, resting your forearms over the cold marble.

Sanji took a deep breath. “I would like you to show me how to kiss.”

You blinked. Show him how to kiss. Him being Sanji. Sanji and you with your lips pressed to each other. Kissing. “What?”

“I got a date, but I... I don’t know how to kiss. I would only trust such a sweet person like you with teaching me how to do such an important thing, you know? I really hope you can help me....” His rant faded away into the back of your mind as you could feel your cheeks start to heat up while you digested everything that he said.

A string of curses escaped your lips as you let your head hang, staring at the marble in an attempt to ground yourself to reality. Like, Sanji was cute, of course, with that characteristic grace that laced his movements whenever he cooked and the cute way he smiled at you while saying something reassuring. Still, he never really paid attention to you like he did to the others, but he was there asking you such a favor. It was just a simple favor. Nothing more. Nothing deeper. Nonetheless, the fact he had a date still made your heart sink a little.

You exhaled slowly, nodding as you brought your head up again. Sanji was still speaking. That stupid fuck.

“Sanji,” you cut him off, watching him gulp, his cheeks red. “I can help you. Chill. I’ll help you.” You cleaned your throat because. After all, it was just a little favor, right? Right?

Sanji looked at you with wide eyes, incredulous that you’d actually accepted. He was very convinced that you’d accept it, of course, but not really. Like, maybe you would, but also— Okay, okay, focus. Sanji took a deep breath again and nodded, pressing his lips together. He quickly put the glass and the cloth away. What if he took too long and you changed your mind? He couldn’t risk that.

With quick steps, Sanji walked around the counter and stood in front of you. “Right... What do I need to...?” Despite how serious he tried to seem, he still held onto his apron tightly and his cheeks had that red tone while he looked at you.

It made your heart flutter a little, even if that wouldn’t matter a lot to him. Breathe deeply, (y/n), don’t make it a big deal.

“Relax, okay?” You cut off your own thoughts, cupping Sanji’s face gently. He bit on his lip, and the general way he acted almost made your heart ache. “No, don’t bite your lip.” You chuckled, running your thumb across his cheek in an attempt to help him calm down, but the way he reacted, damn... “Okay, better. Can I?”

Sanji blinked and quickly nodded. “Yes.”

Spending a little while longer looking at Sanji was a strong temptation, but it wasn’t like you were kissing a partner or something like that; there was no need to admire him and take in each detail of how pretty he was before you kissed him. You swallowed dryly and nodded, closing the distance between the two of you. Sanji gasped once your lips met, but you still held the kiss for a little before pulling away, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Is there something wrong?”

Sanji blinked a couple of times. “I—I was a little out of it. Can you do it again?”

Out of it? Or maybe he disliked it? You slowly nodded and kissed Sanji again and, this time, he tried to kiss back, though it was a little messy since he tried to rush things—you pulled away with a chuckle.

“Easy! You need to follow the pace or at least slowly establish one. Also, don’t try to use tongue out of sudden— No, you didn’t do that, but that’s just a tip.” You explained, furrowing your eyebrows a little at how his face fell a little. “Just simple kisses, okay? I kiss your upper lip while you kiss my bottom one and vice versa. No rushing.”

Sanji’s gaze averted away and he sighed, pressing his lips together, but he still nodded. This time, there was no warning before you pressed your lips to his, and he seemed to hold onto what you said, moving his lips—or at least trying to—in the same rhythm as yours, which was quite slow. His lips were warm and smooth against yours, and there was the sweet taste of whatever fruit he had eaten for breakfast earlier along with tobacco, of course. It wasn’t the best mix ever, but there was something about it that had you needing more.

You pulled away, your breath picking up a little; Sanji’s breath fanned over your face, also somewhat uneven. “Was that okay?”

“...Yeah,” he whispered.

“I will try something else,” you added. Why were you still so close while talking like that? Why were you still cupping his face? “Try to copy.”

All Sanji did was to nod this time, already closing his eyes.

It was a little better this time, smoother, since Sanji already started to get used to it, but he still faltered when your tongue slid against his bottom lip. Sanji gasped softly but accepted it, letting you trace his lip with your tongue until you went back to kissing him like before. His hands suddenly wrapped around your shoulders, squeezing them a little with the firm grip he used while trying to run his tongue against your lip as naturally as you had done to him.

If you had opened your eyes, you would see Sanji furrowing his eyebrows gently, focused as he tried his best. He wondered if you could hear how loud his heart was beating because, fuck, that was finally happening. He was finally kissing you.

Sanji’s breath was shaky when the kiss ended again and he could feel his heart fluttering with how your thumb ran across his cheek gently before your hand dropped to cup the side of his neck. His eyes met yours and he gulped.

“Ag—”

“Want one more thing?” You suggested and he couldn’t help but nod, biting his lip, and he was the one to lean in this time.

Something was different about this one kiss, and Sanji couldn’t really find out what it was—he just hummed softly, trying to follow your pace and letting your tongue run against your lip until you managed to slip your tongue into his mouth. Fuck, his brain just went blank when your tongue pressed against his, gliding against it and deepening the kiss. He was still trying to process it when you pulled away, hence he couldn’t even take in whatever you said, just able to mumble “again.”

Who were you to deny the request? Your free hand rested on Sanji’s waist and his hands adjusted their grip around your shoulders as your lips met once more. More confidence laced Sanji’s actions this moment, his tongue running against your lip as he kissed you, but you couldn’t help yourself, just pulling him a little closer and nibbling gently on his bottom lip, enough to snatch a quiet sound from him.

Both of you breathed a little heavier, holding onto each other even after the kiss was over.

“Y’know?” Sanji said, making you hum in response. “I don’t think I want to go out with that girl anymore...”

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

#one piece #sanji vinsmoke #sanji #x reader #x male reader #x female reader #gender neutral #fan fic #fan fiction #imagine #one shot #sanji x reader #roronoa zoro #monkey d luffy #usopp #nami #nico robin #tony tony chopper

772 notes · View notes

queenshelby · 2 months

Text

The Director (Part Three)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Infidelity

Later that day, you were set up on set two for your first scene with Cillian who paced around nervously, re-reading his lines again and again as he waited for the takes and positioning to be ready.

You stood there, offering him a smile, but sensing his inner turmoil, you quietly retreated to the background, allowing him to take a few deep breaths in order to calm hisonedown nerves.

There was a talent in acting that never ceased to amaze you and even, back when you met him, your husband James had a passion for it of some sort. This kind of passion however had since been lost for him but, for Cillian, it was something that you could still sense radiating off his every movement.

You had watched some of Chris's earlier takes on set one and saw the freckled actor immerse himself into every scene, adding a level of depth and emotion that was far beyond what you had experienced in most movies.

Maybe it was his background in theatre that gave him his signature accuracy in his expressions and dialogues that left you in awe, or maybe it was because of the potent charisma that he exuded right now. Either way, you couldn't help but admire how engrossed he became within this character.

"Are we ready, Cillian?" you asked him eventually, bringing him back to reality.

"Yes, yes. I am ready," Cillian replied softly, his gaze fixed on you with a rare warmth before you explained to him how Chris wanted this scene to play out.

Striding over to set two, you observed Chris and the cameramen get into position, adjusting the lighting, and reviewing the scene's blocking. Cillian took a moment to collect himself and then nodded.

"Alright," he whispered, all nerves dissipating as he took his position and transformed into the character of Oppenheimer.

Chris gave you a thumbs up and with a nod, you called out action.

The set was electric with this magnetic energy, a charge that composed the heartbeat of every photograph, every scene.

The dialogue was like a tightly woven dance as, together, Cillian and the other actor swayed to the rhythm.

The sequence of words and movements in this seductive choreography was fascinating, each action and reaction ripe with meaning and intent.

Cillian's piercing blue eyes, ardently focused on his scene partner, sparkled like stars as they artfully exchanged dialogue.

You stared in awe, observing Cillian's methodic and confident stance, incredible presence, and the emotions he poured into the scene. The raw intensity and precision conveyed through this performance left you feeling stunned, you thoroughly understood why Chris had chosen him for this role.

"Cut," you

finally called out, your voice barely audible after the intimate scene.

Cillian blinked, snapping out of the trance, offering you an endearing smile which allowed a breath of relief to pass through your lips.

"Overall, excellent," you instructed him with a nod of approval, enthusiastically clapping your hands as you watched Cillian's body language relax considerably.

"But I think we should take the scene again and move the camera to the other side this time," you said while discussing a particular issue with the lightening with Chris.

"I agree Y/N," Chris said, looking at the pictures through the screen and the stills from the other camera. "Cillian, do you think you can pull this off again?"

Chris said, addressing him confidently. Cillian, with his ever-present Irish charm, flashed a smile.

"Sure," he answered, his eyes sparkling with ambition and the following takes confirmed what you had expected - this man was nothing short of mesmerizing. With every one of five takes, he effortlessly surpassed all expectations and, in the process, unwittingly awakened a strange feeling within you.

"You zoomed in on the last one. Why?" Chris asked as he looked through your work while Cillian was waiting patiently to be dismissed for his next scene. "Why did you choose this angle?" Chris asked curiously while Cillian looked at Chris, and then over at you, awaiting your explanation.

You took a deep breath, collecting your thoughts before speaking, "Well, I think we need to bring more depth to this scene. From this angle, we can see the nuances of Cillian's expressions more clearly. His blue eyes, in particular, convey a multitude of emotions in this scene, from intense concentration to a subtle vulnerability, which will draw the audience in and make them feel as though they are a part of it. It will be a powerful moment, I promise you," you confidently told Chris, who nodded in agreement.

"Good pickup Y/N," Chris said beaming at you, pride beaming in his eyes as he appreciated your input in this particular scene.

"My pleasure," you replied, momentarily sidetracked from the lingering heat that still radiated from Cillian's last scene before he was moving on to the next scene.

Cillian gave you a knowing smile, before nodding his goodbyes and striding off towards set three.

From that moment on, it was in itself a thrill to observe his meticulous artistry, as he spun stories of duplicity, desire and a passionate yearning for truth with just whispered words and heartbreakingly moving gestures.

It couldn't be denied that he was one of the most magnetic actors you had ever met, and you couldn't help but be captivated by his presence.

Even Emily Blunt, whom you have known for many years and who has been a close friend of yours since about 2018, noted your intrigue after as little as two days on set as she whispered in your ear, "You have it bad for our Irishman, don't you?" she giggled, nudging you gently with a familiar playfulness that took you aback.

You blushed, heat rising in your cheeks as you candorockily laughed shortly thereafter. "Oh stop it, Em! I do not," you muttered, feebly as you nudged her back "Despite, I am married and so is he I believe," you told her while the truth was that Cillian stirred up something inside of you that you hadn't experienced in years.

"So what? Looking doesn't do any harm," Emily teased, an impish smirk playing on her lips as she unapologetically stated the obvious. "I still look around and my husband doesn't mind, but then again, your husband is an idiot, so who knows what he would do if he found you gushing over someone else," she added, rolling her eyes.

"James is not that bad," you lied, knowing very well that Emily was speaking the truth. Your husband was abusive and arrogant, and at least the latter was publicly known within the industry.

Doors had been closed to James due to his behavior, yet he still believed that his privileged status afforded him preferential treatment.

It was no wonder that you felt trapped in your marriage; his sense of entitlement made it impossible for him to accept the concept of separate lives.

Through it all, you struggled to maintain a healthy homelife balance for your precious children and he had threatened you many times that, if you were to leave him, he would ensure that neither you nor your father's clients would get any more work through his father at Universal.

You may have told Emily about this at some point during a late night heart to heart but you didn't want anyone to know about the toxic dynamic between the both of you. Not so that they would gossip about you, but so that you wouldn't be confronted with pity.

The thought brought you back to the present as you sighed at Emily's words. "Okay, you are right. He is an idiot sometimes," you admitted, smiling wistfully as she patted you on the shoulder.

"James is bad for you, Y/N," she said with a knowing frown. "You should leave him," she added, but you merely shook your head, unwilling to acknowledge the suffocating reality of your own marriage.

"Let's not talk about him anymore," you suggested, changing the subject in an attempt to steer clear from the toxic, lingering shadow of your husband. "I need to focus on work," you told her and she nodded.

"Alright then," Emily said, giving you a supportive squeeze just as Cillian walked by, greeting you both.

"Hey," he said with an easy smile, his eyes twinkling with unspoken warmth that sent shivers down your spine.

"Oh, hey Cillian," Emily replied with a low, flirtatious whistle just to tease you both as you were preparing for the next scene in which Robert Oppenheimer meets his wife Kitty, portrayed by no other than Emily herself.

"You are early," she then observed while you stood there, blushing slightly and, just as you glanced up at Cillian, he flashed you another smile.

"I finished my other scene early," he told you both in a low voice. "So, I figured I would come here to see whether the next scene is ready to go," he then said honestly, looking at you and a pause lingered between you as you exchanged a lingering glance.

"Give me five minutes. I am waiting for Chris to approve the setup, but here is what I think the scene should look like," you replied, summoning up a mental picture of the scene with Emily and Cillian. You began to give him a rough idea, accessorized with hand gestures while Cillian listened with genuine interest.

In this moment, you felt your creative passion surge. There was nothing quite like generating captivating scenes and characters and seeing them come to life.

As you explained the dynamics, vivid images inched their way to reality, the scene unfurl as if drawn by an unseen scriptwriter.

"When you explain to Kitty how quantum mechanics work, I want you to place your hand on hers after lifting it up from where she is resting it, using just two of your fingers gently. Just like this," you started to explain while guiding his hand upwards and intertwining your fingers with his to show him how you wanted the scene to look.

"And I want you to use those eyes to look right into hers as I will have the camera zoom in on your face," you told him while Cillian's eyes stayed locked on yours as the words sunk in and his hand still rested against yours.

A charged sense of connection crackled between you both and for a lingering moment, time seemed to stand still before he finally released your hand gently.

If you thought the previous scene had stirred something inside of you, the contact of your skin against his ignited a flame that threatens to burn you from the inside out.

"Alright, I see," Cillian said, his voice a bit hoarse as he slowly pulled his hand back, creating an emptiness in your grasp that, for a moment, made it hard to breathe. It took all your restraint and professionalism not to shiver just by the lingering heat of his touch.

Emily looked at you both knowingly before walking away with a soft giggle, unwilling to push her luck and leave you both alone to process what had just happened.

"Uhm, where are you going Em?" you asked as you saw her leave and Chris arrive, just in time for the next scene.

"Just to the bathroom. I will be quick," she chuckled , casting a coy smile over her shoulder at Cillian and you before disappearing into the distance.

An awkward silence fell between you as you tried to regain your composure, attempting to shake the unbidden attraction that had bloomed between the two of you.

Cillian cleared his throat, breaking the tension hovering in the air between you before gesturing towards the set. "Alright, well, I should go get ready then," he stammered slightly, his cheeks now matching your earlier blush and, while Cillian re-read his lines again, you took some time to speak with Chris.

Deep down, you told yourself that experiencing a flutter of attraction was completely normal - and allowed - as long as you did not act on it.

"Y/N, are you alright?" Chris asked, sensing some inner turmoil.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you replied with a reassuring smile, collecting your thoughts, before turning to Cillian and Emily again who had returned from the bathroom.

The two of them were chatting briefly and you showed them where to stand and rest their hands during the scene.

As expected, their on-screen chemistry was simply intoxicating - a simmering tension that crackled between them like an electric current.

You directed the camera man, snapping photos, and gave them a few minor instructions as you watched in awe, thinking that there was literally something electrifying about their interactions.

Every glance, every whisper, and every gesture exuded a kind of unspoken confession between the two before the scene ended with a shot of the two of them within three takes.

"And- cut!" you called out, feeling a familiar flutter in your chest while Chris nodded with approval.

"I think that's a wrap for today," Chris announced as the entire crew started to pack up and leave the set one by one. Emily and Cillian went off to their trailers to change and freshen up, chatting amicably as they walked away why you went through some particulars with the camara crew and Chris.

"Thanks for holding up the fjord for Nilo for these first few days. You fit in well," Chris told you warmly, giving you a pat on the back as you chatted about finalizing certain details for the next day of shooting.

You beamed up at him with gratitude, unable to contain the pride brimming within you.

"It's no problem at all," you assured him, your mind already planning out the sequences for tomorrow. "I am enjoying it and I am grateful for the opportunity," you added honestly, feeling yourself relax as the weight of the day's work began to dissipate.

"You deserve it, Y/N. And I'm glad I can give you this opportunity to flex your artistic muscles," Chris smiled, his eyes radiating a warmth and understanding that touched you deep within your soul. "I will see you at 5am tomorrow, alright?" he then asked, dragging you out of your own world and reminding you of the quickly approaching new day.

"Sure thing," you answered with a nod before turning around to get the set cleared for tomorrow.

You wanted to be involved even in the work that you were not directly responsible for because, ultimately, you were pedantic about making everything right.

It was your innate sense of responsibility and dedication that made you successful in the first place and it would continue to propel you further up the ladder of success.

With that in mind, you rolled up your sleeves and dived into the work of preparing the set for the following day which is when you were startled by Cillian himself.

"Hey," Cillian said, approaching you from behind and placing his hand on your shoulder.

You looked up at him, momentarily speechless but then managed to find the words to ask him what he needed. "Shit you startled me. Is everything alright?" you asked as you turned to face him.

"Yeah," he replied with a smile. "I actually just got a call from the car-hire company, and they approved the claim. My assistant just printed the papers out for you," Cillian told you as he handed you three pieces of paper, his hand lingering for just a moment on yours as your fingers brushed against one another.

You couldn't shake the feeling that there was an undeniable pull between the two of you, an attraction that was not just physical but intellectual and emotional as well.

"I am sorry again, about the accident," he then said while finally pulling away his hand while spotting two large scars and a bruise on your forearm.

"It's fine. Thanks," you said, realizing that he had seen the injuries on your arm, causing you to quickly pull down your sleeve to cover the burns.

Cillian, like any gentleman, deliberately ignored the burns, not wanting to pry or make you feel uncomfortable. But his concern was obvious in the crease on his forehead.

"Uhm, well," he then hesitated, his gaze lingering for a moment before continuing. "Emily, Robert and I are going for some dinner later if you would like to join us," Cillian said confidently, his casual tone somewhat masking the deeper meaning behind his invitation.

Though socializing after a long day at work was the last thing you wanted to do, you saw no reason to protest.

"Yeah, sure, that would be lovely," you thus said with a warm smile, politely accepting his invitation and already mentally preparing yourself for a night out.

You would do anything for Em and, besides, this could be nice opportunity to get to know Cillian in a less formally charged environment.

To be continued...

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred

#cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #oppenheimer movie #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fic

78 notes · View notes

academiaviktor · 1 year

Text

This Isn't Like You | Sebastian Sallow x Reader | SFW

Prompt: Sebastian Sallow made the mistake of allowing himself to get too close to Y/n, a Hufflepuff he never expected to fall for. After watching her with a fellow Hufflepuff, Sebastian’s jealousy gets the best of him. Angsty fluff ensues.

Note: I've decided to turn this blog into a multi-fandom one, so if you have any Viktor or Sebastian Sallow requests, feel free to send them my way!

I also have a Naruto-centric blog here if you're curious!

Jealousy was a brutal thing, and Sebastian hated every moment of it.

Sebastian was not an idiot—he knew what it meant to fall for someone and how quickly it could set in. He knew it could creep in when he least expected it, even if he had been determined to keep things platonic.

But Sebastian wondered if he was an idiot for not acting on those feelings sooner.

Having the privilege of being near you—immersed in your day-to-day innocence and always choosing to follow him despite being surrounded by numerous other students at Hogwarts—made Sebastian feel significant. Like it was his purpose to stand by you through everything.

Watching you sit in the library with a fellow Hufflepuff was not what Sebastian expected to set him off. To shake him down to his very core and set everything in his life ablaze.

He stood there, not too far from the scene that made his heart clench and took in how you laughed with the boy, sat next to him around one of the tables. His skin flushed with heat, and an unfamiliar tremble claimed his body.

Sebastian was your best friend, and for some dramatic reason, he wanted to be the only person to make you laugh like that. Knowing he wasn't the only one capable of eliciting those smiles from you made his system flush with irritation.

You were one of the most special people in his life, and Sebastian couldn't help but feel like he was in the process of watching you be torn away from him.

Sebastian wasn't in the library to read but to meet up with you for an outing at Hogsmeade. Seeing you tip your head back with an enthusiastic laugh made him crumble on the spot, and he tore away from the room without saying a word.

Storming through the halls, fuming, Sebastian's vision narrowed as he let that jealousy consume him. He wanted to ruin anyone who came in between you two, but he knew it was pointless. Instead, he needed to stew in it.

Sebastian realized then that he was willing to do anything for you because there was no him without you. He was deceived by his own heart, and he'd be damned if he watched someone else sweep you off your feet.

Not long after, footsteps came from behind him, and a gentle hand against his shoulder made Sebastian whirl around, eyes clouded by envy.

"What is it?"

He swallowed hard then, realizing it was you. Even if he was pissed off, Sebastian couldn't ignore how his heart lurched just from taking in your features, and wishing he could caress you. Wishing he could hold you.

"I didn't find you in the library, so I went looking for you," you murmured to him, smiling gently for him despite the irritation that shaded his face. "We're still on for Hogsmeade, right?"

Something in Sebastian wanted to refuse and tear away to spend the rest of the day sulking by himself in some dark corner someplace, but the half-assed response left his lips before he could stop it.

"Let's get going then."

The tight-lipped, almost curt response made you look at him for another moment, but you pulled a pleased look for him and fell into step through the halls.

Normally, you'd spend the whole time chatting with Sebastian, not realizing how quickly the walk went by until you got there in what felt like record timing. You'd be laughing so hard your stomach ached, bantering and poking fun at each other.

But only silence lingered between you then. Strangely, Sebastian walked a step ahead of you most of the way, head down. He directed you onto the hidden path that few people took instead, leaving only you and him to walk awkwardly through the trees.

"Did you see what happened in potions today?" You prompted him, hoping the weird tension would fizzle away.

Sebastian didn't lift his head and kept moving, mumbling a 'no'.

"Oh, well Nicolas Weaver went to mix the ingredients in his cauldron but Reina Quavo dropped something in it and the whole thing blew up in his face," you recounted, laughing quietly at the memory.

But Sebastian's only response was a murmured acknowledgment like he wasn't truly paying attention.

Brows furrowing in question then, you stuffed your hands in your pockets. "Are you alright, Sebastian?"

"I'm fine," he muttered, lacking his usual light and charm. He kept walking even as you struggled to keep up the pace due to your confusion.

"It doesn't seem like it."

Sebastian audibly huffed and shook his head, storming forward.

"What's the matter?" You called, halting in your place, fed up with his vague answers. "You aren't being yourself—this isn't like you, Sebastian."

Snapping then, Sebastian pivoted on his heel and raised his arms in question, stomping closer to you, face pained. "What do you want me to say? I'm exactly like myself!"

Disagreeing with him, you shook your head and stood your ground. "You've been miserable. Just tell me why."

Irritation flared in Sebastian's eyes as he cut the space between you. "Tell you what, that I saw you flirting with some kid earlier?! That I had been in the library but couldn't stand watching him make you laugh? But that would be ridiculous, wouldn't it?!"

Stunned by his outburst, you blinked back at him with more confusion ebbing into your face. "What—"

Before you could say anything, Sebastian's lips pressed against yours firmly, forcing your eyes closed. He gripped your arms to keep you from stumbling back, completely surrounding you.

Before you could relax into the kiss, Sebastian pulled away, dropping his hands. He gazed at you, just as surprised by the sudden affection. Sebastian ran a hand over his face and took a step back, mumbling, "damn it."

Unable to find the words, you just stared at him and swallowed harshly. You took a moment to pull yourself together enough to murmur, "Sebastian, what's going on?"

Averting his eyes, Sebastian closed them, as if all of his problems would be solved the moment he opened them again. He let go of a heavy sigh before meeting your gaze. "I don't want to lose you."

"But you won't," you reassured him, taking a step forward, eyes laced with sincerity. "I wasn't flirting with Frederick in the library because I don't see him that way. We're in the same house, you know."

"I know, it was stupid of me," Sebastian mumbled, visibly annoyed with himself. "I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

"It's okay," you said, reaching for his hands. Taking them in yours carefully, Sebastian met your eyes, almost surprised that you hadn't run off yet. "I understand. I get jealous when girls from your house talk to you or ask you questions."

Sebastian's brow cocked at that, genuinely curious. "You do?"

At your nod, a bashful smile crept across Sebastian's lips, and he chuckled. Pulling you closer from where your hands were connected, Sebastian let a hand cup your cheek while the other found its place against your hip.

"You don't need to worry about that. I don't see them the way I see you," Sebastian murmured gently, giving your hip a small squeeze before he brought his other hand to cup your face. "If you don't mind, I'd like to kiss you again."

Smiling with no objection, you nodded, heart fluttering at the prospect.

Sebastian's warmth surrounded you once again, lips soft against your own. The kiss was sweet and gentle at first like he was mapping out every inch of you. He deepened it the moment his heart screamed for more, overwhelmed by how good it felt.

Clutching at him, you knew nothing had ever felt quite as right as the sparks between you, and the thought of having to break apart made your heart ache.

"I'm sorry," Sebastian whispered against your lips, breath warm and minty. His thumb stroked your cheek, and he pulled a small smile. "You're my partner in crime, and I'll do whatever I can to keep you in my life."

Unable to fight against the flurry of elation sprouting inside your chest, you smiled back at him, murmuring, "You can start with that butterbeer."

"Anything you'd like," he replied, pressing his lips against yours like he'd never have the chance to again.

Needless to say, it took some time for the two of you to make your way to Hogsmeade, too engrossed in one another to care.

#sebastian sallow #sebastian/reader #sebastian x reader #sebastian x you #sebastian/you #sebastian oneshot #sebastian fluff #sebastian sallow fluff

438 notes · View notes

bruisedboys · 1 year

Note

SATURN — modern!steve has a crush on librarian!reader so he keeps checking out books that he never reads just to talk to them and reader eventually calls him out on it

this is short and probably not exactly how you imagined it being but I tried!! however it’s such a good concept that I may or may not make a full length fic out of it. don’t @ me on that though … hope u like this gf!

summary: modern!steve has a crush on you, the library receptionist. fluff, pining steve, very short lol

gn!reader 600 words

You were pretty sure you were losing your marbles when you saw him for the fourth time that same week.

There he was again, looking very immersed in the books on the shelf of the History section, and standing out like a sore thumb. The only people who ever spent this long in the History section were men over 50. This boy, this tall, brunette, glasses-wearing boy, who you’d now seen every day for the past 3 days, was definitely not over 50.

You stared at him, squinted, tilted your head, tried to figure out whether you were seeing things or not. You wouldn’t be surprised — you were the type of person to be up in your head more often than not. Hence the library receptionist job.

Too late, you realised mystery boy was looking right back at you. Your face got hot fast. Your head snapped back to your computer, typing nonsense into the keyboard.

It was only when he cleared his throat that you realised he was standing right in front of your desk.

You looked up. He looked exceptionally handsome today, his long brown hair tucked behind his ears, a pair of round glasses sitting on his perfect freckled nose. Not that he hadn’t looked pretty every time you saw him, but today his grin was blinding. You swallowed.

“Sorry,” you breathed. “Um, hi. Are you … borrowing that?”

You pointed at this book in his hand. He looked down at it like he’d forgotten he was holding it.

“Oh. Yeah, this,” he said, like it was an afterthought. An afterthought of what, you didn’t know. He grinned, then slid the book over the desk to you. “Mhm, I’d like to borrow it, please.”

You went to grab the book and had to do a double take.

“This is … the same book you got out yesterday,” you said slowly, half convinced he was trying to mess with you.

“It is?” He squinted at the book for a second and then his eyes widened. You thought you saw a blush creeping up his neck. “It is! Oh shit, I’m stupid.”

Mystery boy smacked his own forehead and groaned, then fell into embarrassed laughter. His hand dragged down his face and made his glasses go lopsided. You couldn’t help but laugh too, his smile was dazzling and contagious.

“Did you even read the cover?” You asked, amusement at the situation overshadowing your nervous nature. “No, wait. Did you even read the one you got yesterday?”

His laughter died down though the redness in his cheeks didn’t.

“Well, no.” He cringed at himself, looking one part embarrassed and two parts charming. “Listen, I’m Steve. To tell you the truth, I haven’t read any of the books I got out. I just wanted to talk to you again.”

You flushed from head to foot.

Steve ignored your embarrassment chivalrously. “You’re pretty … for a library receptionist,” he said with a cheeky grin and an awfully exaggerated wink.

You blinked, cheeks blazing. Your tongue felt like it was stuck to the roof of your mouth, thanks to his compliment. You stumbled for a moment. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, y’know … library receptionists are usually old ladies.” He wrinkled his nose, and, at your giggling, grinned beautifully. His eyes were bright when he asked, “What’s your name?”

Your tongue unstuck long enough for you to tell him your name. He beamed when you did, the movement in his cheeks shifting his glasses slightly, and stuck his hand out over the desk. You took it, his hand warm and big and calloused.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said jovially. You liked the way he said your name. You felt almost privileged to hear it coming from his pretty, grinning mouth.

“Nice to meet you too, Steve.” You smiled back shyly as he let go of your hand, your skin hot where he’d touched you. “Do you … do you maybe want me to give you some actually good book recommendations?”

Steve laughed, much too loud for a library but you didn’t have the heart to tell him off.

#★ mal writes!#ღ stevie #✿ 300 celebration!#steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington drabble #modern!steve #modern!steve harrington #modern!steve harrington x reader #✉️#stevesmixtape!

673 notes · View notes

drama--universe · 1 year

Text

Change in attitude

Requested by anonymous: hi! can i request a jang hanseok (vincenzo) × reader. the reader is known to be calm and collected and doesn't talk much (at least infront of hanseoks employees. so basically the myung-hee (that's her name right ? says something rude about the reader and the reader just had enough and blows up in myung-hees face and everyone is shocked but it's about to get violent and hanseok like comes and kind of calms the reader down and picks them up and just walks out the building with them over the shoulder. sorry i had a dream about this and i really want to see it written but i have no writing skills whatsoever. ¡love your writing btw! ❤️❤️

Pairing: Jang Han-Seok x reader Word Count: 1.0k words Warnings: violence, arguing, suggestive ending

The box on your desk was mocking you, or at least that's what it felt like. It was a large box, one that was often used for moving your clothes or such and not really for paper. A peek inside was enough for you to groan in annoyance and the note that read 'has to be finished by tonight' didn't make it any better. You knew well enough that your boss, Myung-Hee, was doing this just so she could take out her frustrations on you at the end of the day. But you were competitive and there was no way that you'd give her that satisfaction, so you were determined to finish everything.

The first document was quickly finished, only two pages long and you only needed to fill in a few blank spots. Then the second document came along, this time twenty pages long and you had to search most things in the system. Unfortunately for you, the rest of the fifty documents were also twenty pages or more. So by lunch, you were only done with a quarter of the work.

"Are you coming, (y/n)?" One of your co-workers spoke up and you looked up from the papers before sighing softly, stretching your limps and grinning at the satisfying pops.

"Can you just bring me back a sandwich? The usual one." You asked and although she seemed a bit disappointed in you, she agreed nonetheless. You looked at the papers again before getting up for coffee. You didn't usually drink coffee during work hours, but right now you didn't have much of a choice since your eyes stared losing focus from the letters on the papers. So you moved to the coffee machine and taking one of the paper cups to pour it in. After drinking it, you went back to work. Every piece of paper felt like it took an eternity to finish and working while eating was a bit more difficult, but you tried your best. You didn't really pay attention to the time, you were too immersed into the stupid letters to notice the lack of sunlight. It wasn't until your last co-worker left that you noticed, but only because he told you. Yet, you had over twenty documents left...

With a glum face, you took the finished documents to Myung-Hee's office and knocked with your foot. The door was opened and Myung-Hee stepped aside to let you in, but the smirk on her face said enough. Weirdly enough, she just replied with a thank you before requesting that you leave. So you did.

"Are you still not finished?" Your co-worker asked and you shook your head, sinking in your seat with a loud sigh.

"Just two more, which means forty more pages." You mumbled before yawning loudly, covering your mouth in surprise before groaning again. Luckily, you were finished by lunch and ready to down after bring Myung-Hee the final documents.

"So, you're finally finished?" Her voice was clearly meant to be mean, but you honestly didn't care. So you dropped the paper before walking out.

"Hey! I'm talking to you!" Myung-Hee didn't even care if anyone heard her, marching after you and roughly turning you around. She started her rant of how the papers had to be finished yesterday and now she was behind as well, causing clients to get annoyed. You hardly believed her and if it was true, it was her fault for delivering the documents to you so late. Nonetheless, you stayed quiet since she was still your senior and boss.

"How are you still working here? You barely do anything and if you do, you do it wrong." She sneered and you rolled your eyes, which she quickly noticed and suddenly you felt a slap on your cheek that made you flinch harshly to the side. The pain in your cheek was barely felt as rage took over your body, boiling over your limit and the it snapped.

"You really think you're above everyone else here?!" You exclaimed as you got closer to the woman, ignoring the whispers around you from the people that had never seen you like this. They were used to the kind and sweet you, not this version.

"You're not better than anyone here, you scam and threaten people to win your cases! You barely do any of your own work and I know this, because I do it! There is not a day that I wished you'd dissapear or that Cha-Young stayed instead of you. At least she did her work, the good and the bad." You sneered, not even trying to control the words that rolled from your tongue. You were well aware of how horrible you sounded, but you honestly didn't care at this point.

"You're a vile woman that I wish didn't even ex-" "That's enough now, darling." Han-Seok's voice rang from behind you and a hand covered your mouth. You bit it, ignoring the loud whine from Han-Seok as you turned back to trying to berate the woman before you. You didn't get the chance as Han-Seok lifted you with ease, throwing you over his shoulder like you were a large bag of sand. You shrieked, hitting Han-Seok's back to be released. Han-Seok didn't budge, instead he walked to the elevator. As the doors closed, you were dropped on the ground again. You fell down on your butt and glared up at Han-Seok, who only kneeled down before you after pressing the button for the top floor aka his office.

"I was talking..." "You call that talking?" He asked and you rolled your eyes at him before hissing when Han-Seok lifted your chin. Your eyes connected and you could see the switch in his eyes, no longer pretending to be sweet Jun-Woo and rather now his true self as Han-Seok. It was something that usually scared you a bit, but now it didn't.

"You have no idea how attractive you are when you're mad, do you?" His smirk spoke wonders for your imagination, thoughts racing through your head. The man before you only smiled before placing a soft kiss on your forehead before leaning down even more so his eyes were on the same level as yours.

"So fix it, baby."

233 notes · View notes

07-bilin · 11 months

Text

beautiful stranger

₊˚ପ⊹ summary: in which you meet miguel on a train as a stranger but as time passes, your relationship progresses.

₊˚ପ⊹ relationship: miguel x fem!reader

₊˚ପ⊹ author’s note: based off of laufey’s song beautiful stranger :)

₊˚ପ⊹ wc: 1.1k

“beautiful stranger sitting right there”

it was a part of your routine, using the train to commute your way to work, except one new thing in, particular, had caught your eye, a man that you had never seen before.

before you knew it, anytime you used public transportation, your eyes would be searching for his frame, and every time you searched, your eyes would land on that familiar frame sitting there reading a newspaper.

“i swore that he smiled and i felt my heart drop”

you were coming back from a rough day at work but you couldn’t help it as you glanced around the train, it was a time of day when everything was in a buzz and as you squeezed your way through, you found an empty seat and snatched it up before anyone could take it.

once settled in, you peer over at the stranger next to you, to your surprise, it had been the one you were searching for once you entered the tram.

almost like he felt the stare, he was met with your gaze and you found yourself dazed staring at his crimson eyes, giving a shy smile. he smiled back and just like the moment had come, it left as he immersed himself back into his newspaper.

“would i know his name? --- maybe we would have exchanged a few words”

it was late at night, it was only you two on the train, your eyes had taken multiple peeks at him throughout the ride, and you were sure he had noticed your longing gazes.

the train shook causing you to lose your grip on the pole catching the attention of the curly-haired man.

he was quick on his feet and even quicker with his words asking with a tone of concern laced within it.

“are you okay?”

you shook your head with a reply and he let out a soft sigh, one that seemed too big for something as little as this but you shook the thoughts out of your mind. he paused for a brief moment with his mouth agape before revealing his thoughts.

“i seem to bump into you a lot, my name is miguel o’hara, if you ever need to save a seat, let me know”

he handed his phone over tense.

you stood there for a second bewildered by the sudden step between you two. you took the phone in your hands and typed in the digits along with expressing your words.

“my name is y/n, y/n y/l/n.”

you reply with a softness in it and smile at him.

“a fairytale moment could have occurred”

it seemed unreal, it was just yesterday he was just some guy you had admired from afar and now here you are, him in your bed sleeping soundly next to you.

it started with a couple of texts taking his offer of saving you a seat on the busy subway of new york and it eventually spiraled into him asking you for coffee and the relationship just seemed to take off, almost like you were meant to meet him on the train.

the bed shifted a bit and his back had changed to his face smiling down at you.

“can’t sleep mi amor?” he whispered as he caressed your cheek.

you hum at his words and reply, “just deep in thought”

“what are you thinking about?” he mused.

“just how it was a miracle we met” you answer as you lean into his touch.

he chuckles at this and pulls you in and kisses the top of your head.

“oh really? i say its fate we met” miguel claims as he continues to pepper your head with love.

you laugh at his words and give him a playful hit.

“im serious!” he retorts. “i believe that in every universe, we are together, and i mean it from the bottom of my heart.”

“but my beautiful stranger will have to remain; a stranger until i see him again.”

new york was in chaos.

people running in all sorts of directions, but it was strange, there was nothing in sight that could have caused fear to arise in the citizens, so why were they running?

a figure clad in a blue and red suit was swinging from building to building with webs in a frantic state, almost like he was in despair, different from the rest, almost like he knew this was going to be the reality and that it had hit him it was happening once more.

then he spot her, confused, standing there, almost like she was waiting for someone to come in and save the day.

“miguel!” you yelled out as you saw him rapidly approach you.

he scooped you up in his arms and gave you a tight hug, it felt like it’d be the last time you’d feel his touch.

“we’re going to be all right, right miguel? you can save us..” you pleaded as you held his body tight to you.

you could see his face falter beneath the mask, no no this can’t be happening you thought to yourself, miguel was spider-man, the protector of new york, he had to have some sort of idea of how to fix things, right? he had to be able to figure out how to make everything stop glitching.

just as the thought came to you, you felt a sharp sensation that zipped to your whole body that caused a pain to make you fall to your knees.

miguel stared at her figure as he dropped down with her as she fell. it was happening again, his sweet y/n was slipping from his grasp once more.

his mask dissipated from his face allowing for you to stare at it one last time.

you took his face in your hands and held them with the little strength you held, miguel gripped on to your arms not ready to let you go once more.

“this is it,” you gulped, “this is the end.” you sputter as you stare at your lover.

“no no, mi amor, i can’t go through this again” he stuttered as he felt the tears spill out.

you give your lover a sad smile as his words that night click in your mind at the edge of death. you give his arm a tight squeeze before you feel yourself glitch once more, for good this time.

the figure sits there as new york is no longer a chaotic mess with the sound of screams but with the soft pelts of rain filling the empty world, just as the world was there months prior, it had now glitched into thin air.

“my beautiful stranger will have to remain, a love that came and left with this train, my beautiful stranger.”

#ੈ✩‧₊˚ lin's work #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara angst #angst #spiderman atsv #spider man 2099 #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel x y/n #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

247 notes · View notes

shessowavvy · 10 months

Text

Let’s be teenagers for a day.

summary: While hanging out in Y/N’s earth, Miles tells them about the stress he’s been enduring while being Spider-Man. With the suggestion of Y/N they go see what Y/N’s Manhattan has for them.

WARNINGS: Teenage love, they are friends crushing on each other, Waking up the Brooklyn baby in Miles, AA slang will be used.

pairing: 1610!Miles Morales x gn!Spiderman Reader

Type of story: “ short “ fluff story

will be taking place after the ATSV incident and somewhat after the BTSV

This short story is definitely not short so get ya snacks, blankets, pillows and get comfy cuz u gonna be here a while unless you read at lightning speed.

Let’s just say Miles has a watch now, mk? Mk.

——————————————————————————-

It was late tonight.

Just about 10:00; but you wouldn’t know, you haven’t been keeping up with the time.

Who could? Y/N was far too immersed into the conversation at hand and by conversation I mean listening to Miles rant about whatever.

Miles kinda showed up unexpectedly. Only saying kinda because you faintly remember Miles asking you if he can, and I quote, “ kick back in your world “. You weren’t really paying attention. In that moment you were in the spider society’s cafe, munching on a O’Hara burger. Either way you apparently ended up agreeing, seeing as Miles is now here beside you, gazing out into the bustling city while sitting out your rooms window sill.

For just a second, there was a beat of silence between you two. Miles seemed to be hesitant about something, worried his aching thought would offend you in any way. You only sat there and stared out into the night, occasionally focusing on anything that caught your eye.

“..Uhm..Y/N?” Miles spoke up, still hesitant with every word.

“Mhm?” You’d hum in response still looking out in the open.

“Do you..do you ever wish you never got bit?”

Your eyes moved towards his form beside you. You raised a questioning, but playful eyebrow with a slight smirk. You knew exactly how he felt. You had the same thought a while ago but let it go and just accepted your duty. Miles released an airy laugh at your expression, smile fading afterwards.

“Like..y’know, do you ever just wanna be..normal again?” He’d tilt his head down, leaning his head on the wall of the window beside him. With that you’d turn your head fully towards him, getting a better look at him. His dangling feet kicked in anticipation, his fingers fiddled with each other unconsciously, and his eyes averted your gaze. You turned back towards your city before answering.

“Yup.” You simply said, an idea creeping its way into your mind. Once again your head turned to Miles, a smirk on your face.

“So y’know what..”

Miles finally looked at you, silently urging you to go on.

“Let’s be teenagers for a day.”

Miles was slightly taken aback by the statement and the rising excitement in his stomach he just couldn’t ignore. “Whaa..What’d ya mean?” He said while watching you turn back in your room, picking up a backpack.

You stuffed an outfit for yourself in the bookbag, along with bluetooth earphones, your phone, and your wallet. “I’ve done pretty much everything there is to do in Brooklyn so let’s go to Manhattan, yeah?” You turned back to Miles still sitting form in the window, backpack strapped on you. “What we gonna do in Manhattan?” Miles asked, finally turning around and stepping in the room with you. You’d scoff. “Explore, duh” You went to go stand beside Miles. “Plus I found a cool spot to spray paint some stuff, you like that right?” Miles shrugged his shoulders, giving a compliant nod. “But normal teenagers don’t wear Spider-Man suits around the city” you gestured towards the suits you were both wearing. “And I don’t just carry spray cans on me.”you positioned yourself on the window sill to get ready to swing out of your room. “I don’t have extra clothes for you either. So, let’s start with clothes shopping then we can find some place that sells spray cans and theenn..” you shrugged. “I don’t know..go with the flow I guess?”

You swung out without giving Miles a chance to respond.

A smile crept to his lips as the adrenaline kicked in. He quickly dragged his mask on and swung after you. “Hey! Wait up!”

He came to the right person.

——————————————————————————

“So..Any ideas yet? Other than go with the flow” Miles called out from behind you, thwiping his webs in a rhythmic motion along the Brooklyn Bridge. You slowed your pace so the two of you didn’t have to yell to talk. Once Miles was closer you took a moment in your constant webbing to carefully turn your body towards him. “I was thinking Midtown” You were putting your full trust in your skills to not fall while webbing backwards. “Times Square?” It was less of a question and more of a confirmation from Miles. You nodded your head in response. “Maybe go see a movie later but we gotta take a late night walk in Central Park” you’d say a bit enthusiastically.

“In New York..? You buggin” Miles’s lenses squinted at you. You shrugged “yeeaah we’ll see” you dropped down only to hurl yourself up in the air, skillfully twisting and turning during your air time. Without a second thought Miles followed after you, getting up there with you quite quickly. “I can do that too” Miles said smugly, showing off a bit more by seemingly laying in the air with his hands behind his head. You giggled at his antics, throwing him a little off balance with the swipe of your hand on his arm on your way down. You’d web a close building, continuing towards the desired store and Miles eventually recovered to catch up to you.

Once you’ve arrived to your destination, you landed on the roof of a building just in front of it. Miles landed beside you not long after. He squinted at the buildings sign “Unique-low?” He’d ask a lil skeptical, he’s never shopped here. You’d skooch behind him, putting your bookbag down. “Trust me, they have good clothes. And don’t turn around cuz I’m changing.” You said the last part sternly to warn Miles. “Alright- jeez” Miles complied. While you changed Miles took notice to the scenery. Everything was loud in New York. Loud lights, loud cars, loud people, just loud. Either way he found comfort in it, it was home to him. He smiled at the thought but his moment was interrupted by a back handed tap on his chest to draw his attention. “They don’t know you’re Spider Man here so let’s go in” you told him before heading to the side of the roof, bookbag on back, and hoping to find an alleyway to plop down to.

“Then why do I need to buy new clothes?” Miles asked, following along behind you. “Because this night is supposed to be dedicated to feeling normal. We aren’t spider people tonight, so why would we wear the suits?” You explained before carefully sliding down the side of the building, looking up at Miles. “Oh right” Miles just jumped down, webbing at something above him the last second so he wouldn’t injure himself.

Inside the UNIQLO(not sponsored)was bright and had a buzzy feel to it. With the variety of clothes, that woody smell of new clothes, and the soft music playing through the speaker it was just a vibe. Miles was about to make a cheeky joke about a distasteful shirt only for you to be nowhere in sight. You’ve wondered off to help Miles pick out an outfit on your own.

Miles groaned softly to your missing appearance, dragging himself to find you while simultaneously picking an outfit. He walked around a bit, picking at shirts and pants only to say no subconsciously to himself. Although his interest remained neutral to everything, he stopped in front of a clothing rack, sliding through the shirts. Just as he was about to leave you suddenly popped up in front of him through the clothes with pants on a hanger in your hand.

“Hey!”

“WOO-“ he yelped in surprise, tensing his body defensively. He’d sigh in relief realizing it was just you. “Don’t do that you scared the shi-“

“Shut up, do you like these?” You gestured to the black cargo pants in your hold.

“Yeah?” He raised an unsure eyebrow at them.

“Good. You like puffer vests?”

“Yeah- I guess”

“Great, outfit picked then. Follow me” Once stated, you exited on the other side of the clothing rack and made your way to an open dressing room. Miles reluctantly stood in the opening of the dressing room, facing you to collect his soon to be new clothes you picked out. You handed him three hangers. One with the black cargo pants, another with a scarlet colored sweater to match his sneakers, and lastly a black puffer vest to match the pants. “C’mon hurry up” you nudged him more in the room before closing the door. He examined the clothes before trying them on. He flexed in the dressing rooms mirror, absolutely feeling himself in the new fit. “Are you done yet? Lemme see” Your voice taking him out of whatever he was doing. He finally opened the door, immediately giving you a good three-sixty. You clasped your hands together to your chest, just admiring your work. “I’m too good” you mumbled to yourself. Miles was about to speak on that but you interrupted him “Alright take it off so I can go pay for it. We gotta lot of stuff to do” you placed a hand on his chest, pushing him back into the dressing room. “You’re paying for it?” He questioned you with a furrowed brow. “You’re my sugar baby today, sweet heart” you chuckled at your own joke, closing the door on him.

After everything was payed for you both hurried to a nearby alleyway so Miles could quickly change. The excitement having you both cheesing and giggling at the situation. “Alright. I already looked it up, there’s a shop that sells spray cans just a few blocks down” You were already walking towards the shop once Miles told you he was done. “We gotta hurry though.” You said putting a bit more pep in your step. Miles wasn’t too far behind you, avoiding bumping into people who walked the sidewalk. “Why?” He asked with concern. “We gotta take the next train to midtown so the fun can began” He nodded even though you couldn’t see it behind you.

On the walk there Miles almost got separated from you due to the hoard of people coming from every direction and the fast walking speed you kept. With a huge amount of courage and a frustrated sigh he grabbed your hand. You were startled a bit by it but your composure remained as you looked at him, regardless of your hearts throbbing. “If you wanted to hold my hand just say that” you snickered softly at him. He looked away from you to try to compose a smile that wanted to show itself. “Just tryna keep you in sight” he mumbled, rolling his eyes at you. You laughed at his failing attempt to hide a bashful smile from you. You intertwined your fingers into his, locking the hand hold as your quickened pace continued. Miles would never admit it but he was freaking out internally.

Inside the store you both hurriedly picked out paint colors, which Miles bought this time. You’d stuff the spray cans inside your backpack before checking your phone for the time. Your eyes widened at the time. “The train comes in 10 minutes! We’ll make it if we run!” For as fast as you said those words before running out the door he could’ve sworn you were speaking a whole different language. With the same sense of urgency, Miles chased after you. Swiftly dodging and ducking people on the streets, you both hightailed it to the nearest subway. You hit a sharp turn into the stairwell entrance to the subway stop, skipping steps by jumping down. Behind you, Miles almost slipped trying to make your unexpected turn. He grabbed onto the railing, using that as support to launch himself down the stairs with you.

Miles managed to get beside you. “You paying to get in?” The adrenaline you both have being the only thing carrying you to keep going forward besides the spider powers. You took notice to the Fare-System machine you were approaching.

You scoffed at the thought of paying. “Hell nah.”

“Great minds think alike”

With that, one after another, Miles and you easily jumped over the fare gates. (Don’t try this at home)

Made it with just less than 3 minutes to spare before the train came. Completely out of breath, you leaned against the wall to catch your breath while Miles crouched down, hands on knees and head slumped. “We..made it” you mumbled between breathes. Miles weakly raised a celebratory fist. “Woo-hoo” Miles spoke dryly.

The intercom grabbed your attention, announcing that the train was approaching. You lifted yourself off of the wall and walked closer to Miles. You patted his back softly to get him up. “C’mon trains coming” with a big huff Miles also lifted himself up.

Once the train arrived you both immediately took notice to crowded cart you two gotten. Both sighed heavily before entering the train.

You took an open space just in front of a taken seat, leaning against the pole behind you. Miles took the space in front of you. He didn’t even get time to get comfortable as he was pushed forward by more oncoming people. Because of that Miles is now closely in front of you, barely a shuffle away. The train moving caused him to instinctively grab onto the horizontal railing just above you, ever so slightly closing the distance between the two. He nervously looked anywhere but down at you while you quietly giggled at his nervousness.

A couple stops later you took notice to Miles’ zoned out stare into the ceiling. “Miles?” You softly called for him, causing him to finally look down at you. His eyes lidded as he looked at you, seems he’s still lost in thought. “You alright?”

He’d chuckle. “Mhm” he paused for a second, subconsciously examining your face “just daydreaming” a soft smile appearing on his face. The smile was contagious as you did the same. “Mk, just checking on ya”

Though the conversation was over you both seemed to not be able to look away. Staring deeply into each other, looking at either lips every now and then. Before the moment could escalate it was ruined by the shuffling of the people in the seat behind Y/N, getting off at the current stop. Now that there were seats open Y/N and Miles took a seat. Recovering from that tense moment was a little difficult for them, unsure of what to do next.

“Uhm..just two more stops” you were the first to speak up.

“Yeah yeah cool-“ Miles said, fidgeting with his pants.

It wasn’t too long before the two gotten to Times Square.

The atmosphere was absolutely exciting. From the big screens that played multiple advertisements to the bustle of noisy people in the area. You looked at Miles with excitement beaming in your eyes, his own reflecting the same when he looked at you.

“Where should we start?”

——————————————————————————

The night you two shared together while in Times Square felt unreal. You both went to an arcade filled with things to do. Miles spent 10 minutes trying to win you a small plushie out of the claw machine, regardless if it was a complete scam.

Your eyes rolled at Miles’s persistence “Miles. The game is made to take your mon-“

“SHHH- let me focus, I got it!”

Eventually he did get your plush toy but with the cost of your game card being spent out. You didn’t want to spend all your money in one place so you guys moved on to the next activity. The next activity turned out to be messing around in an antique shop, then to a skating rink. The skating rink was mutually both of your favorites and not because of the amount of times you two fell but for the amount of touching needed. Whether it was grabbing onto Miles before you fell again or when you helped Miles back up, every touch ignited a spark in each other. It could have just been the thrill of the moment but you weren’t satisfied with that answer. It felt great regardless.

The two decided to end the night by heading to the spot Y/N said they found to put up some art. “It’s on the roof?” Miles asked as he followed up the shaky ladder on the fire escape. “We’re climbing up, aren’t we?” You pulled yourself up onto the roof of the abandoned building, turning around to lift Miles up. “Ay. Keep the sarcasm to yourself, I’ve had enough of that tonight” Miles chuckled, observing the big blank canvas of a smooth concrete wall. “Not bad” Miles smirked as he turned to you, pointing a thumb at the wall. “Yeah I know” you pulled your backpack off your back, setting it down in front of you. “You know what you’re gonna paint?” You’d ask him, taking the spray cans out one by one.

“Of course.”

“Cool. here” you passed him an earplug, turning on some music while you two did your thing.

It was peaceful. Just you and Miles letting your creativity shine on the hard wall with music playing softly in your ears. Miles took a moment to look at you. He admired how focused yet relaxed you looked as you waved the spray can about.

Once you two finished up, you both stepped back to admire the artwork. Without even having to look at each other you both initiated a fist bump, silently praising yourselves.

Miles wasn’t ready for the night the end, he wanted just a little bit more of your time. “Uuh..how bout that walk in the park you were talkin’ bout?” He sent a stupid smile your way as he looked at you. “Oh now you wanna go on a walk.” Although said with feigned annoyance, you smiled.

“Alright let’s go” you shrugged, now packing up.

Miles took a quick picture before leaving.

The walk in Central Park was quite calming. The two of you munched on deli sandwiches, which you got on the way there, and talked about anything.

“So, Miles, how’s it feeling to be a normal teenager?” You asked, softly bumping him in the hips with your own.

“I do love being spider man but this feels..amazing” he emphasized his emotions further with a big smile and hand movements. You laughed at his movements, smile fading as a thought came to mind. “Did you..ever make up with your other spider buddies?..”

The moment of silence and the saddened expression on Miles’s face makes you regret asking. You only heard about the story of Miguel chasing Miles down and what happened, you never heard Miles talk about his friends afterwards. Where were you during the chase? In your earth dealing with your own problems.

“Of course I forgave them but- y’know..hard to forget” Miles spoke in a low tone, almost a whisper. Miles sighed, looking at you with a smile. He didn’t want that to ruin the mood. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close and giving you a small shake. “Don’t sweat it though, I got you now” you giggled, face warming up at the touch. “Yeah yeah”

“We gotta get you back home, it’s getting late” Miles spoke up after a few minutes of more walking. You muffled an “ok” as you stuffed the rest of your sandwich in your mouth. After you swallowed down the meal you sped up a bit to get in front of Miles, turning around and now walking backwards. “Before you do go, you wanna chill out in my room and listen to music?”

“Uuuuh” Miles was concerned about being gone too long that his mom would notice but he couldn’t say no to you. With a content snicker he agreed.

Now home, in your sleep wear, and comfortable on your bed, you laid out on your back with your head just off the edge of the bed. Miles made himself comfortable on some blankets on the floor, he was on his back as well. The music played quietly in the back as the two took in the peaceful moment.

“Hey, Y/N..”

You turned onto your stomach, head laying on crossed arms as you looked at Miles. “Wassup?”

“Thank you..for tonight” He gave you a closed mouth smile, returning your gaze.

You smiled back as you let the weighing feeling of sleep drag your eyes closed. “Anytime Miles.”

——————————————————————————

Sorry for any possible typos or spelling mistakes😬

I feel like this is boring but, hey, if you liked it lmk by leaving a like🤷🏾‍♀️

If this does good I have a Earth42 Miles x black fem reader called “ spray paint date “ for ya

#spiderman atsv #miles morales #miles morales x reader #fanfic #i love miles morales #first fic #spiderman #black women #gender neutral pronouns #1610 miles x reader #miles morales 1610

167 notes · View notes

random-introverted-blog · 5 months

Text

No More [Selunite!Shadowheart x F!Reader/Tav]

NOTE: THIS IS A CONTINUATION OF FLICKERS OF LOSS. Yes, I did it, thank AO3 you cowards.

Honestly, I planned more but like where it ended too much to drag it out [sandcastles next time?]

Continuation/Part 3 - Shadows of Shar

Intended Audience: Mature [it gets a teeny bit questionable but that's why the teens will ignore this rating anyway]

Who be smoochin?: Shadowheart x F!Reader/Tav (I got tired of y/n, broke my writing immersion)

The Bit: It's been a month since Selunite!Shadowheart and you escaped DarkJusticiar!Shadowheart. You haven't been sleeping well, and are struggling to adjust. It doesn't help that the wound she left on your hand, binding you to her, still torments you. Or the nightmares you have nearly every time you lay down. Or that you have few memories of your prior life with Selunite!Shadowheart to guide you.

Warnings/Advisories: Fluffy hurt comfort. You're going through it, lingering Stockholm Syndrome is making your thoughts questionable at times, one of your nightmares gets pretty spooky, you're still pretty damn brainwashed and your girlfriend is mega supportive. Mildly graphic detail of a relived memory, a distinct lack of sandcastles (sorry guys it was mostly written by the time it was suggested BUT... maybe next time? NO PROMISES)

Words, all the word (count): 2,583, baebeeeee

Link to the AO3 page if you prefer reading there

MINIMAL EDITING - WE FORGET AND DIE LIKE SHARRANS (AGAIN)

Providing a continuation I didn't think I'd actually write I'm 3...2...1...

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈--ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈--ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈-

Absentmindedly, your fingertips brushed over the wounds on your hand, staring into the darkness of the night surrounding the cottage. The rough texture of the log you've perched yourself on helped keep your mind from wandering too far while the chirping of crickets and hooting owls provided a beautiful, calming melody.

Dawn would break in two or so hours. You think. It was still odd, having to relearn things that came so simply to others. There was no need to memorize the lights in the sky when you seldom found yourself beneath them.

Twinkling and bright, they soothed something in you. Sure, the moon was beautiful, and you'd always be eternally grateful for everything Selûne has done. After all, it was her amulet around your neck that provided enduring guardianship over you. But sometimes... you just wanted the sparkling freckles scattered along the dark canvas of the night sky.

But your mind always wandered back to where it shouldn't. Or maybe it should. It was still so hard to tell. Even as you trace the shapes scarred into your flesh, something inside you... ached. Was that man hurting her? Does he make sure she has her black velvet tea stuff in the morning? Does she miss you?

Like you miss her...

Gods, how pathetic can you be?

A searing, throbbing burst of pain surges across your nerves from your hand, spreading up your arm and finally subsiding at your elbow. The scars-turned-sigils flickering a brief violet, while you wince and hiss. You were getting better at tolerating the pain...

Familiar footfalls crunched the leaves and twigs leading to your log. The first time, you jumped and darted into the woods. Found only when your wound flared so intensely, you screamed. The times after that, you jumped.

You've started to relearn the feeling of her presence, like a warm embrace that lingers in your memory. Differentiate it from what you were trained to know.

She took a seat beside you, positioning herself on your right. Close enough, you could feel her, distant enough to avoid suffocating you. The soft rustle of her clothing barely registered amidst the ambient songs of the evening. Silence enveloped her but was not unexpected, as she occasionally left you to your own musings. Just by being there, she effortlessly offered endless support. Provide soothing reassurance, an attentive ear or a warm shoulder - Whatever you needed, she would make sure you had it. It was one of the first things she taught you.

Though... recovery was still difficult. Part of you wanted to hear her. Scoot closer until you could feel her warmth. All you had to do was ask. Reach out for her. You weren't sure how to do much of that yet, but you wanted to try... you wanted to so badly. "I... don't want to sleep anymore." The words escape your lips in a hushed murmur, echoing the reason behind your presence in this place, reminding you why you're out here in the first place. And you fought desperately to shut it out.

"I know." She whispers, tone brimming with empathy. As you glance sideways, you can see her eyes locked on you, watching your every move. "But you need to. Running from it won't heal you, my love." Her hand moves closer to you, silently asking for permission.

All you do is return your hand to your side on the log, and Shadowheart does the rest. Her fingers delicately traced the contours of your hand as she slid hers over yours. You hesitantly meet her eyes, feeling a surge of nervous anticipation. All the warmth and happiness you wanted so badly was now laid bare and raw before you. Ready for you to come to your senses, get over yourself and...

Again, but worse this time. Your arm throbbed intensely, the pain spreading from your hand and into your shoulder, igniting a blazing fire pulsating through your entire body. It felt as though invisible knives were mercilessly carving your skin, prompting an involuntary cry of agony for just a fleeting moment before you quickly stifled it by clenching your teeth, your eyes screwed tightly shut.

You're barely aware of Shadowheart's hands clasped around yours, closer to you now, her soft-spoken words of affection and comfort. "Shh," she coos warmly, trying to soothe you. "It'll pass... just breathe. Shh... I'm right here, listen to me and breathe, love..." As your hand relaxes between hers and your breathing finds a steady rhythm, she can't help but smile. "There... See? Already passed." Shadowheart adds, placing a delicate peck to your temple, sending a warm tingle down your spine.

"Mine is bound to..."

"I know..." She cuts you off gently, rubbing soft circles on your hand. "This is the most she can do to you now. And the more you reclaim of yourself, the less this will matter. I promise."

Giving your hand a gentle squeeze before rising to her feet and gently pulling you with her. You don't fight her.

Leading you back inside, she playfully shoos away a dog lingering at the door, giggling quietly as it scampers off. A frown briefly creases your lips, wishing you could recognize the animals as much as they recognized you.

As she led you up the stairs to your bedroom, she made sure to keep your hand in hers, providing a constant sense of comfort until you reached the bed. She lifts a cat from your side of the bed and settles it on the floor before reaching for you to help you in. But she reads the look on your face, smiles almost apologetically and settles for just holding your hand until you sit on the edge of the bed.

Once you appear to relax, she gracefully rounds the bed and climbs in on her side, the mattress sinking slightly beneath her weight. Her eyes burning into your back as you sit there, hesitating. "Love, please..."

Her fingers lightly graze your exposed shoulder, causing you to flinch involuntarily. Shadowheart pauses, and you cringe at the hurt you sense radiating from her now still hand. But she tries, so slowly and timidly. "I'll be right here, sweetheart. Whatever comes, you won't face it alone this time. I swear..."

The tenderness in her voice is so different from the harsh commands you've come to expect. It's like a balm to your wary mind and you carefully ease yourself down to rest your head on the pillow.

For a split second, you're staring at the dark ceiling of that place and your core twitches in anticipation, ready to give everything and anything she wants of you.

A warm hand settles over yours, its touch so gentle that you don't notice your own trembling until she holds them steady. "You're safe here." Shadowheart reassures, voice barely above a whisper beside you. Nights have been difficult for the entire month you've been here, beset by restless sleep and haunting dreams. Surely it was wearing on her, this constant need to comfort and ground you... But here she was, just as patient and present as she was the first night. Not so much as implying a single complaint, passive or otherwise. "Can I hold you?" She asks, voice deliberate and measured, like the very words would startle you into the woods.

You offer a subtle nod, the faint sound of your affirmation barely audible in the room. As you do, you notice her cautious shuffle, the soft rustling of her moving across the bed. The moonlight through the window behind the bed casts a gentle glow, illuminating her hands, which she purposefully positions within your line of sight. You can sense her deliberate awareness, her conscious effort to ensure her actions remain visible. Gradually, she encircles you with her arms, her touch conveying a tender and guarded embrace. The scent of her envelops you - lavender and night orchids - adding a touch of familiarity.

She would never have... your body was hers to suit her whims...

"You're safe here..." Shadowheart whispers into your ear, returning you to the cottage. The present. Her nose gently presses into the crook of your neck, the warmth of her breath a soft caress you fixate on as your eyelids drift closed.

The initial darkness is hushed and welcoming, like a gentle whisper in the night... until it's not.

Until it's frigid and gripping at your limbs so tight, you almost lose feeling in them... Until they're pulling at the seams of you, tearing at you and boils your blood hot enough you swear your skin is melting off your bones like wax off a wick. You would scream if your mouth were allowed to open. "You've strayed, pet..." the icy voice scolds, her tone low. From the depths of the darkness, a faint silhouette emerges, steadily approaching you. "And we both know deep down that's not your honest desire."

Closing the distance between you, She emerges and looms above, her presence dominating. You realize now you're on your knees, with a sense of vulnerability washing over you.. Wearing her black robe you could still vividly envision even without seeing it. "Recall your prayer of contrition, when you first came to the Nightsingers' embrace."

You do, and the sharp pang of unmitigated anguish shoots through you. "When you wavered at the altar, when you turned away from her and hesitated to send Nyxara to her endless dark." It's as if a floodgate opens, and the memory of your first friend in the cloister rushes in. And your first act of wickedness to earn your place in it.

How She had to take your hand and drive the blade into her chest. The ghostly touch of tears streaming down your face lingers, as if they were shed just moments ago. You could almost still feel her heart beating its last into your palm through the dagger, as if you were still holding it. Could nearly feel the warmth of her life ebbing away in your hand.

You were permitted a pass only because She needed you initiated as soon as possible. But you had to pray for hours, the soft murmurs of your pleas mingling with the soft rustle of her robe as She circled you. Watched over you. Ensured your prayers were offered with utmost deference and reverence. Punishing you with your wound if you slipped in fervor.

Before you were called again to sacrifice Umbric, your only other friend. Your last one. Both a second chance to do it properly, and to repent of your failure... No more attachments. Only Shar. Only Her.

You knew better than to make friends after that.

Her slow crouch brought her eyes, icy green and intense, to meet yours, leaving you feeling completely powerless, entranced and held captive by her gaze. "Recite it. Recite it and repent for forswearing your faith to Lady Shar." The demand feels impossible to ignore, your mouth returning to you and an expectant glare follows.

"Mistress Shar, in the shadow of loss, I beseech your forgiveness. Forgive my faltering..."

"Tav!"

Your body lurches forward, drawing in a deep breath that fills your starving lungs. You feel your entire body trembling until warm, comforting arms encircle you. Offering a sense of security and safety. "I've got you, you're okay..."

"F-forgive my faltering faith, Mistress Shar—"

"Tav, no," Shadowheart says firmly, "come back to me, my love, I know you're stronger than her..." the stifled tremor is enough to clear the fog in your mind. "You're more than a puppet for her amusement. You always have been..." pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head before nestling her nose in your hair. Drawing you deeper into her arms.

Recite it.

"I... don't want to..." Finally you break, the intensity of your training and your hunger for this new way of life conflicting so fiercely it overwhelms you.

Without further clarification, she amazingly understands. "No, my love, you don't have to. Not anymore... Never again." Shadowheart mutters into your hair. Holding you tighter when she feels the wet warmth you're bathing her shirt in. "Gods, I'm so sorry," she mutters, her voice filled with a self-reproach. "I should have done more, planned better, gotten to you sooner..."

You don't think, not really. You just act. Like you know already. The motions are a blur, but you know you pull back just enough... then your lips are on hers. She takes a moment to gather herself, but eventually eases into the moment and reciprocates. And it's unbelievably amazing.

The way she kisses you is sweet and tender, as if she wants to savor every moment with you. How she touched you, looked at you, now kissing you, like you were the most cherished and adored person in the world. Her lips against yours is so soft and electrifying that it sends wonderful shivers down your spine, and your body tingles in bliss.

There's no teeth, no pain, no blood. Only the warmth of her mouth moving slowly with yours like a delicate caress. Her hands are soft on your back, maintaining the security her arms provide you. It's everything beautiful that your stunted memory can recall of her kisses, and more... and you never want her to stop, craving for more. How have you gone this long without realizing how indescribably incredible she is?

But surely she does, if ever slightly. Neither of you seems ready to fully disconnect from each other. Your eyes remaining closed. "No more..." you whisper quietly.

"No more..." Shadowheart echoes just as quietly. Her lips twitching slightly, one hand brushing away a few lingering tears from your cheek. "Not anymore." Pressing a small kiss to your lips. "Never again." And another before her smile spreads wider.

Shadowheart gracefully maneuvers you both again to lie down in bed. This time you're practically on top of her, your face nuzzled into her shoulder. You gently weave your fingers through her smooth, flowing white hair, which partially cascades over her other shoulder, eliciting both a smile and a small sigh of appreciation from her. Mesmerized by her beauty, you can't help gawk in awe. Bathed in the ethereal glow of the moonlight streaming through the window, she looks absolutely radiant.

Her hand, still playing with the hair behind your head, guides you to rest on her shoulder. Securing you against her with her arm.

The memory crosses your mind and though you tense a moment; it doesn't... hurt as much as you've come to expect. Shadowheart gently tightens her arms in silent reassurance, and you respond by wiggling impossibly closer to her. The last thing you want is for her to think you feel or appreciate nothing she's done.

Instead, you gently drape your arm over her waist, feeling a sense of belonging and protection, as your mind wanders to Shadowheart... Your Shadowheart, savoring how your body melds so perfectly with hers. The adventures you must have shared. Wondering if there's a way to get those memories back.

Shadowheart fills all the dark corners of your thoughts, leaving no room for her to overrun your peace of mind. Before long, the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest, her steady breathing, has created a soothing lullaby that lulls you back to sleep.

This time, you're welcomed by a soft radiance and a soothing warmth.

In your fragmented memory, you can't recall a time when you've slept as soundly as you do now, peacefully drifting into a deep slumber.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈--ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈--ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈-

A/N: Wowowow okay hi. I didn't honestly expect to write anything beyond where it ended. Nothing public anyways. But AO3 asked very nicely (thanks!) for a continuation. I honestly intended this to be a beefy one but really liked the vibe and way it ended. Ya get what ya get. Quality over quantity, yeah?

Thanks again to everyone who likes, reblogs, replies, supports this little project in anyway you deem worth your time! And with that... Unpopular writer, awayyyy...

#baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate #bg3 #shadowheart #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate shadowheart #baldurs gate fanfiction #shadowheart x tav #bg3 shadowheart #dark justiciar shadowheart #dark justiciar shadow heart #dark justiciar #ao3 baldurs gate #baldurs gate #baldurs gate romance #baldurs gate tav #baldur's gate romance #i will let the rot consume me #i am the goddess queen of rot

71 notes · View notes

charlewiss-writes · 1 year

Text

paper rings / mick schumacher

masterlist

day 28: rings (part of one-word november prompts!)

world count: 1.7k

summary: the four times mick jokes or talks about proposing, and the one time he finally does.

authors note: this took me awhile! had a lot going on between finals and I got too into the wc lmao but here it is! i think it's cute and it's the longest I've written! inspiration from certain dialogues comes from here, although I tried to make it special somehow. hope you like it! <3

loosely inspired by

being the new kid at school was never something good. after moving and changing schools too many times due to your dad's job, you had grown to notice that children were cruel when somebody new entered class. especially now, being 14 years old, it seemed like everyone had their close circle, and there wasn't a chance that they would let you into their small bubble. thankfully, for the first time ever, you weren't the only new kid in town. a tall, blonde boy with a thick german accent was called by the teacher to stand up and introduce himself to the class. that's how your learned that his name was mick. fast forward a few months, you two grew closer, drawn together because you were the new kids that didn't quite fit in.

one cold morning, while you two were sitting on a bench together, watching the other kids run around during recess, you noticed that your blue-eyed friend was quieter than normal, like he was thinking about something. "what is it, mick?" you asked, gently nudging his side to get his attention. "just thinking about things" he replied, straight to the point. he normally wasn't too talkative, but you two used to exchange a few words during the break, even if you were the one talking and he just answering to you. you decided that if he wanted to tell you, he would eventually, so you dropped it.

"ever thought of getting married to someone?" he said, seemingly out of nowhere, when the bell indicating that the recess was over ringed. you shrugged, never really giving the topic much thought, even though you were currently immersed in reading books that were all about love and happy endings. you never considered that's how life could go for you too. you asked mick, a bit confused this time "who would I get married to?". his cheeks went red in an instant after hearing your question, and his blue, beautiful eyes were fixated on the floor while you two walked back to the classroom, side by side, only connected by the shy touch of small hands brushing against eachother. "i don't know, maybe a friend?".

at sixteen, it seemed to you that everyone had already met the love of their life. at first, you didn't mind it, but when the girls you hanged on with at school started to forget about you, too wrapped up in their teenage flings, you were done with it. poor mick, always the listener, found himself the receiver of every complain you could have about boys and your failed love life. every boy you seemed to like always ended up being an asshole, and the blonde boy warned you everytime, but you wouldn't listen.

"i'm so sick of this, why is it so complicated? i won't ever marry, end of story. i'ill end up alone forever" you had concluded, after being too disappointed due to yearly school ball that was ocurring tonight but you refused to go, given that you didn't have anyone to ask you to go. "I wouldn't mind being married to you" mick, almost too soft for you to pick up, had said. you smirked and jokingly replied, always diminishing his efforts, telling yourself he didn't really meant it, but that he said it anyways to make you feel better. "obviously, I'm a catch."

he grunted, mad that you weren't taking his sayings as truthful. "i'm serious, y/n" he told you again, now looking into your eyes. "so am i, mick".

III

you never quite like big parties. and you never would have agreed to go to the one you were invited to now, if it was up to you. but mick, sweet boy mick, couldn't say no when corinna invited you to celebrate new years with them after some months without really staying in touch with your best friend. you thought that it was for the best: having recently discovered about your feelings towards the german boy, and being sure that it wasn't mutual, you decided that staying away would help the feelings disappear. but apparently, whatever "absence makes the heart grow fonder" shit they said was true, or so you learned to agree on, since you couldn't remember a day where you didn't want to talk to him and go back to the way things where before

"it's the sixth one you try on, y/n. everything looks great on you anyways" the boy said, seated on the sofa that the store provided for those who weren't trying on clothes. even if you didn't detect any frustrations in his voice, she apologized for how long the seemingly easy task was taking her. "that isn't true, mick. i'm sorry for being annoying, should have brought gina with me."you quipped. mick frowned as he heard you favouring his sister over him, and quickly replied "hey, no, you're not annoying. i didn't mean for it to sound like that." you smiled at his fast reaction, careful to not get into your bad side knowing how quick you could get mad. still, you were in a playful mode, and continued with the banter, even if there was a bit of truth in your statement. "i don't know how you put up with me, honestly." you sincerely hugged him, absorbing his heat and perfume.

"maybe it is because I've been hopelessly in love with you since we were kids."

you broke the hug when you heard what he said, trying to hide the goosebumps that appears in your skin, and the effect his grazing breath had on you. almost as if it was second nature to you, you put on the joking mask, again, afraid to let him see the hopeful look in your eyes that, maybe, just maybe, he felt the same for you. "ha! that was a good one, schumacher. almost had me going with that serious expression." you signaled to his face, jaw locked and confused eyes. "forgot i can read you like a book."

after getting tired of seeing how every partner you had never lived up to what you deserved, your best friend -until then- had decided that he had to step up. that's how you two had end up together, just as your two families always talked about. at first, you were quite afraid that, after all these years as friends, becoming something more would damage the relationship you already had, but gladly it surprised you for the better: mick and you worked well together, easily passing from friends to partners. after finishing school you started to work in a garden center, and now aged twenty and with some help from your family, you were thinking about opening your own shop. the only thing stopping you was the fact that you still couldn't figure how you would name it.

"why not using your last name?" the blonde boy suggested, while walking through the rows of plants that almost engulfed him. you huffed, already considering that idea due to it being a family business, but not quite liking how it sounded. "not everybody has a cool last name like you, schumacher" you joked, and the blonde boy smiled at you, slowly making his way towards you to hug you from behind. "you could have it too if you wanted" he advised, whispering in your ear. it sent chills down your spine. "y/n schumacher, sounds cool, doesn't it?" mick said, with a confident smile painted in his lips. your cheeks reddened at the idea of sharing his last name. it wasn't the first time you two had talked about marriage, and even when you agreed it was still too soon, just thinking about sharing his last name left you feeling warm inside. so, you did what you always do best: deflect with humor. "can you just ask me to marry you like a normal person?".

it was another rainy day at home, and due to the boredness creeping in your bones since you had woken up far too early and couldn't go back to sleep, you had resolved to spend your time scrolling on tiktok. at least until it was an acceptable time to start making breakfast, or until mick woke up. whatever happens first, you thought. but after a few minutes laying still, only paying attention to the media displaying in your phone, you ran across a crafting video of some sort, that taught how to do paper rings. being the absolute biggest fan of taylor swift on planet earth, you couldn't contain the excitement of trying it out, so you slowly left your boyfriend's arms to go look for the required things.

"why did you woke up so early?" the croaky voice of your boyfriend due to the sleepiness still towering over him startled you, not expecting him to wake up so soon after your departure. "i'm sorry, love." you replied, pouting, and standing up from the table to hug him, hiding in his chest. "did i woke you up?"

his full, pink lips warmed your heart when you heard what he said. "no, i just missed you", followed by an eye rub to dissipate the sleep that remained. you grabbed his hand, and rushed him to join you at the counter where you were working at. "i just came across a video and wanted to try it out. look, i made you a paper ring" you said, grinning like a child who just got gifted what she asked for christmas. mick reciprocated your energy, seating beside you while asking "can you teach me how to do one?".

after teaching him how to fold the paper correctly and endure multiple paper cuts, you left him alone to continue the task while you went to make tea since the weather outside continued to be awful and grey. too focused on the task at hand, you didn't hear when mick stood up and got on one knee, until he reached for you waist, saying "liebling, can you turn around please?".

your breath got stuck instantly when you turned to face him, as the tears came crashing down your face. being together since you had turned twenty, now aged twenty-two, and having known him your whole life, it clicked instantly that this was how it was meant to be: you two, together, at home, without shiny things but filled with endless amount of love from both sides. "will you marry me?" he finally said, with tears brimming from his clear blue eyes.

"about time you'd ask, schumacher".

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x you #charlewiss writing challenge #f1 x yn #one word november prompts #user charlewiss #f1 x y/n #formula 1 imagine #mick schumacher fluff #mick schumacher one shot #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher x y/n #mick schumacher x you

619 notes · View notes

sugar-petals · 2 years

Text

surprise smut roulette ♣︎ | x male idol 𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔩 𝔦𝔪𝔞𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔰

⇢ enter the matchmaker_ ⇢ play at your own risk_

## feat. [txt_] HUENING KAI・[skz_] FELIX・[bts_] YOONGI・[nct_] TAEYONG・[exo_] KYUNGSOO・[shinee_] TAEMIN

↳ ★【ＩＮＴＲＯ. 】welcome to this ‘pick a treat’ roulette. find your perfect match through 6 questions that lead to a hot surprise candidate. are you ready for a gamble?

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰. ⚠️ 18+, smut, dom & vanilla fem!reader, face-sitting, kinky stuff (breath play/self-choking | bondage | masochism | finger sucking), non-pg food mention, anxiety, corruption & praise kink

⇉ 【 ♠︎ 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 】

↳ read all - do not skip

looking for a handsome devil who’s an angel. ➝ choose A.

the expert of experts please. like, the living legend. ➝ choose B.

the fun kind. an inexperienced, nasty, pretty mess. ➝ choose C.

soft hours, i just want the sweet & innocent bean. ➝ choose D.

i’m ready. point me to the craziest guy you have. ➝ choose E.

passionate, slow, loving, classy, you name it. ➝ choose F.

▸▸▸ 𝚕𝚎𝚝’𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚍.

MATCHMAKER LOADING… (scroll for result)

A. l e e t a e y o n g ♡

Cooks you a tasty meal three hours beforehand. Your favorite one, and it’s restaurant quality. After digging in, the two of you share a lovey-dovey calm down moment on the couch. Taeyong puts on a sweet romantic movie. Like really sugary sweet. Kiss the cook sounds like proper advice in that situation. It’s not just making out, though. You do pay attention to the movie as well. The atmosphere is nice, he put up incense sticks, and the plot is wholesome. An impatient voice in your head remains. Taeyong’s body is too shapely to ignore in his all-tight, all-fashionable clothing tonight. When the credits roll, it’s time for cleaning up. In two ways of the word if you catch my drift. Him in the kitchen. You in the bathroom. Everything planned out. Ready to go twelve minutes later. He arranged the bed to be extra comfortable. You lay down together. Shit, the tension is about to snap. You can’t stand it anymore and end up shrugging off your showering robe without further ado. You sit down on him. Make yourself at home. You’ve done this plenty of times before. But it still feels like a first. Caring Taeyong is the type to ask how you want it every other minute. You tell him some soft kitty licks would be nice. He starts off superficial, but accurate. Deep and sloppy is for later. Looks great in his black tanktop by the way. The hair going all over the pillow. His eye makeup wavering. If only he fully realized he’s such a perfect 10, hands down. You tell him at every opportunity. But Taeyong is always cautioned and has a self-sacrificing character. He’s anxious, but curious at once — which is his and your advantage. Continues very slowly, whimpery. He always needs a comfort zone. And warmth around the bed. No cold room ever. It needs to be heated.

Can’t tolerate anyone walking in on the two of you, either. Door’s locked. Music’s playing. Taeyong’s getting it good with your palms on his thighs. „Baby, you’re delicious.“ That’s all he can say between his hard breaths and one madly working jaw. You talk super dirty to him, though his ears are… firmly enclosed for the most part. With you on top of it, his face never felt so amazing, but god damn. He also notices just how he’s straining his tongue to the max the more it goes on. Taeyong is exhausting every muscle in it. You once said that stamina is all it is: He listens to your feedback very carefully. Taeyong secretly wants to be bossed around. He’s always a little worried and concerned, needing your guidance. Dependent on your lead, even. Immerses his face very profoundly the more he works himself up. Wants to feel your warmth. And make you feel so good and connected to him. Checks on you all the time. ‚Okay like that?‘ Dedicated boyfriend who just wants to know you’ve clenched up at least once a day. Intimacy, it’s like a confession. But it’s also about licking the stress away. You should know he’s all yours. The sheer eye contact will make you cum. He has such a thing for your bucking, thrusting hips. Never overstimulates you, though. Always stops at the right moment. Got your favorite towel ready at all times, too. Mirror mirror on the wall, he’s the cleanest of them all? Taeyong deserves all praise, he’s so neat with everything. Needs his bunny plush to come down afterwards. This really is the man who has a whopping truckload of sex with you all week in full slut mode. Curls himself into a ball. Little spoon Taeyong gets his due reward by snuggling him to sleep. It’s all, all, all about affection.

[ play the matchmaker on ao3 ]

B. m i n y o o n g i ♡

Sitting on his face? Hmm… Gotta break it to ya: That’s for starters. Fact is: Any position will do. Any. Your wildest imagination. Just tell him. Yoongi is a very creative character. He will find a way. want him to kneel down while you’re standing, leg over his shoulder? He’s perfectly tiny, what did you think he was gonna do! Do tall people stuff? So, you get the idea; no limits. He’s dreamed about all of it anyway. Just never had the courage to speak those ideas out loud, you know. Nothing else on his mind. Beyond the calm and reserve of his personality is something incredibly erotic that needs to come out. Actually, Yoongi is far more physically flexible than people would expect. Plus, a lot more sensual, tactile, and touchy-feely in any case. And we’re not just talking nose boops and hand-holding, although he really gets very excited about those, don’t get me wrong. He really loves intimacy. And for you, he would do anything anyways. You don’t have to worry about him being in a mood. Or his latest audio file waiting for some last tweaks, that one can wait for another hour. Valuable time with you can’t be postponed or bought back. He’s a realist. Yoongi sets his priorities. Booked and busy he might be, but his girlfriend has a more important spot in his big bf heart. So, long story short. He’s always down. No problem. Anywhere, anytime. Out there hiking in the highest mountains? Someone’s gonna melt the snow outside the tent with his heated tongue technology. No need to light a campfire, that one only attracts the insects. Talk about bugs: Yoongi tends to be hyper-private about having sex with you, nosy people and haters should never know your business. His door codes are like 19 letters long at this point. You’ve been thinking the same thing. Who the fuck deserves to hear your man moan except you.

You both try to be quiet as you can when he goes down on you in the studio lab. Which backfires on his ears later on when you’re alone at his house and can really let it out. It’s hilarious though because Yoongi is a pianist, in his head it’s like „ohh bro she’s moaning in C minor!“ Jokes aside. Yoongi has one huge craving. A certain… drive to impress. In typical understated manner. Knows you feel so good when lying down on your back, so he can service you. Sitting down on him would only mean extra work — he wants to do those things for you. Caress your whole body. Take good care of you. Get his hair tugged on and your feet in the air. When the weather is freezing cold at best, so you can both warm up like that under a blanket. Winter is eating out season. When you’re not glued together linking hands, which is most of the time, he asks you pull off his hoodie so you can hold onto it while he gets busy making you cum. The fabric smells so good. The material is really soft. The whole garment has so much Yoongi body lotion scent and subtle perfume in its every fiber. It arouses you double. You can smell his hair shampoo as well. Knows you get off on his hands preparing the great finale, so he’ll use ’em for good. Knows the spot where to place his thumb and leaves it there to rub it side to side diagonally. Yep, this can go on and on. He doesn’t get any joint or muscle pain the next day anymore. He just wants to work you up and get you off. Yoongi can drag his tongue the slow way. Or give some lighting fast nips. Lives for your heavy hitching breath. Tongue-finger combination? Sends you spiraling, complex tongue movements in all directions. It makes you forget about responsibilities that burden you. Gives you positive dreams for the night. He really does spoil you. Wears his hoodie with a gratuitous, bashful smile the very next day. You really came crazy hard digging your fingers into it.

[ play the matchmaker on ao3 ]

C. h u e n i n g k a i ♡

Fresh from the shower. The two of you, madly in love. Already made out lots under the water stream. Got steamy with lathering the shampoo everywhere on your bodies, but didn’t go all the way. Kai isn’t a fan of giving you pleasure that isn’t properly set up. Fumbling about without any aim with the water going everywhere in his eyes. It needs more structure. Your boyfriend is less impromptu than you think. Every now and then, he’s very nervous about that. Good boy gone bad where? He’s soft, that’s why you like him. But it’s up to you to come up with the programme. Spontaneous, planned, something in between? You need to show him. And it’s no rocket science. You’re obsessed with your tall ass cutie, the ideas about what to do come naturally. Needless to say, no chance to jump the gun right away though, Hyuka is pretty clingy. Cuddles a lot before. Very tight hugs. Very deep kisses. Needs his curly hair played with or he just won’t feel the mood that night. Kai needs to feel safety. Longs so much for you. Then goes absolutely stupid. Doesn’t even know where to start. Extremely overwhelmed. Talks in several languages at once. Moves about constantly. All these long ass shaky fingers roaming everywhere. Desperation on two long legs. Pleaser and an ethereally beautiful face to look at, all over the place in the opening rounds. Hyuka is a crying, shivering mess. Painfully straining boner. It’s gonna be another orgasm denied. Begs for you to go harder, wrap your thighs around him firmly. Give it to me, go for it.

Getting the hang of it sooner than later — he’s a natural talent. Adores you so much. He wants to do this all day every day. Kai’s really shocked by your body in the best of ways. Mouth gaping wide open in awe. Gotta seize the opportunity to fill it. You’re not gonna give him a shy and dainty ride. All those stuffed toys are gonna fall of the bed cuz you’re fucking the shit out of his face with increasing creaks of the mattress. Gets his spit in his eyes, but keeps on going. Hyuka ends up out of breath after only two minutes. Hopeless and sloppy, looking like a wet puddle — or poodle, depending on how you look at it. Such a gorgeous face utterly ruined. Tries his best to keep on licking cuz he’s Kittykai with his bowl of milk (that’s your nickname for him, it’s in his KakaoTalk bio ever since). Thinks you taste so great and loves being nasty. Gains in self-esteem the more he sees his nose bridge do the work for him. I mean, what else would it be doing. It’s literally built for a good time. Things are seriously chaotic with him. Might… discover he has a bratty side in the process. But, he likes being told exactly what to do and being put in his place which is of course supine. All the time. Your cute lil’ babe. Hyuka is at his best when he subs. He’s not afraid of being roughed up and having his nips pinched one by one. Goes full throttle hormonal seeing you cum: He almost passes out. Oh gee listen, this really brings out the hoe in him. He thinks about other people looking at his face tomorrow without suspecting what you did on it. Cums in his pants not once but twice. A sticky mayhem on both ends. Showering round two here we come, it’s aftercare, and then you’ll doze off after sorting his plushies back in place, that’s just proper etiquette aye.

[ play the matchmaker on ao3 ]

D. l e e f e l i x ♡

His pink cozy sweater. That silky long hair to swirl around between your fingers. A very talkative, jittery boyfriend. That’s what you find kneeling in your bed in the later evening. He definitely took your text message to heart and prepared. In fact, Felix, your happy pill, has been waiting all day. It’s not like he’s been twirling thumbs only, though. He sent a lot of cutesy pictures to show himself off. You know, a little bit at least. It’s not like he’s arrogantly bragging. It’s more about cheering you up by looking good (it works) and giving you an early taste of what you’re getting (works just fine as well). That serve of a face card never declines, baby. Felix selfies are good for your health. He’s your absolute bestie after all. Good thing you can also inspect his face up close between your legs, and he’s doing his thing, it’s become a glad routine recently. He figured that stuff out I’m telling you. He has an ethic. But he’s also a coy kind of closet pervert (if that doesn’t sum him up, what does). Felix is the type to dream about burying his face in you, and that dream comes with a shocking intensity in his fantasy world. Nobody would suspect his mind to be that graphic. He wants to jerk off furiously to that thought of himself. But heaven knows he’d feel too naughty and shy to actually do it. The guilt is too strong. He’d rather save the energy — that’s actually smart. He’s right on edge when you come home. It gives him an extra slutty desperation. And a readiness to do it all. As much as you like his innocence, you gotta admit that you wanna steal it a little.

Upon the first relief of assuming the position, Felix has a reassuring sparkle in his eyes throughout. Still talks a lot, even with his mouth full. No manners, but it shall be forgiven. Cuz he’s cute, and he says all the sweet nothings. Boy’s addicted to you, but in a wholesome way. Light banter is a must. Convos are a turn-on. That bomb ass voice gives you goosebumps. It kinda riles you up, too, does it. So gratifying to listen to. Let him talk! He’s using his most seductive asset. But don’t underestimate your own voice. He likes it a lot. After all that foreplay talk, at one point it’s come on now, let’s get to work, let’s do it right. Loves his head in your hands. Pleases you very diligently. Trusts you with everything. Could eat you with his eyes closed at 3:25 AM, suspended upside down from the San Francisco brigde. Needs everything settled between pillows. Flustered when you say something kinky to him. Felix has a hidden raunchy side that needs to be provoked through topping him properly. Corrupting him like that makes you excited for more every time. It’s a sexy balance to an otherwise wholesome bedroom life. Legs are kicking when you suffocate him for a little longer than usual, he’s groaning his ass off. You can stare at his freckles for as long as you want. He makes amazing little slurpy noises, that’s adorable as shit. Treats eating you out like a kissing session. Clean eater overall, not too sticky. And even if something’s a little all over the place: Who cares about awkward moments when he can be a sunshine. Says please when asking if he can make you cum. The orgasm is deep and it’s satisfying. Felix loves it when you ride it out on him and he can’t see anything but ass from below, hello darkness my old friend. Loves the hugs afterwards. Can’t let go. He seriously and really needs you so bad. Can not even bear the two minutes of a bathroom break until you get to huddle up again. Sleeps like a baby. Your baby, he’s been so so good and all your pride.

[ play the matchmaker on ao3 ]

E. l e e t a e m i n ♡

Somebody signed up for the ultimate sex symbol. The distinguished one and only. Lee Francesco Alejandro Fernando in flesh, I see I see. You want a goofy fucking weirdo. A ruined whoring catholic on crack. That’s the aesthetic, am I right or am I right. No problem, though! Taemin got it all. You know how the story goes. Starts with a smile. Finishes with a smile. Charming, he’s well aware. He thrives on praise and your lip bites, and the fact that he can make you wet with just one glance. There’s no way to resent Taemin for being so hot, it’s his right, but you know. Going by how often you’re changing into fresh underwear, you’re a little under his spell. And don’t be mistaken. He himself sweats pretty damn hard, so much he’s gotta tie his hair back. Taemin is a workaholic in bed. Because just like on stage, he always aims for his best physical performance. You really can’t call it anything else. On the one hand, he wants to be killed by the squeeze of your thighs while you’re at it. But it’s mostly about having a good time past 8PM. It’s the golden Taemin rule: Gotta have fun together, not one by one. Eating you out means enjoying himself, too. He never thinks of it as a chore. Deliciously enthusiastic. Can put on a show. Is most likely tied up. Who knew, totally surprising. A perfect blend of faux shy with lazy nips and being confident in his err, ‚artistic’ abilities. Taemin needs a freak who’s hard to handle lest he’s gonna wind up bored — Taemin loves you because you’re wild and free and wanna fuck him up for his decade of sins (seriously now, someone finally needs to punish Taemin for being so daring). Best ever edging. His technique is unusual, but it does the trick. Keeps your toes curled and your lips twitching. Like throbbing. Needy moans in between licks because he can’t get enough.

But, just like he enjoys your possessive staring, he also wants your loud response. Figured out ways to tease your clit that make you gasp out loud and smack his thighs (oh yum… he likes that). Knows his cheeks are great to sit on. Don’t lie — you’ve seen them and you’ve been thinking your thoughts. They’re all soft. They’re all inviting. Can you tell he’s encouraging? Wants to feel your bounce, he’s a guy you wanna lose control with. You can go pretty crazy on him if you think about it. The messier you move, the more he’s into that. Routinely chokes himself out while he’s gobbling you up. „Sounds so good, right?“ — his words, not mine. Blame his eagle eyes because he’s right, you’re liking it. A tease as always. Needs you riding, and needs you rolling. Your hips, no hesitation. You don’t have to worry about disturbing him. Taemin can take a little heat, and his coordination is strong. If anything, it can’t be disturbing enough for the goth emo horror prince. Who knows. He’s lusciously masochistic anyways. Taemin is built to entice and satisfy you on any given day. A little stronger is just right, a little rougher is just right. Give it to him like it’s hate sex, but like it’s love. Never tires. Wants it bad. Works the shit out of his A+ lip game. Taemin’s lips are legendary. You can feel why. As is his kinkiness. Viciously gags himself on your fingers just for fucking fun while you catch a breath and kneel a little higher. Hearing you react with coos will only give him more eagerness to have you reach today’s peak in the most spectacular way. I can’t even describe how unhinged and slutty his tongue is. Taemin is the type to give you a screaming orgasm. He won’t settle for less. All his hyungs are jealous when you brag about him being good in bed in the group chat. Taemin loves your kiss and tell. He knows where he belongs.

[ play the matchmaker on ao3 ]

F. d o k y u n g s o o ♡

Listen. Dating apps, the bar, the club, colleagues, the friend of a friend, uni, whatever. Plenty of fish in the sea — if you fancy being disappointed at the end of the day, after such an effort and all that time and money spent, for nothing, thanks. And we’re being generous. The real maestro of oral science is right here. Call it back to school because he’s the headmaster in charge? Yeah, pretty close. Every trick in the book, he’s studied it to delicate perfection. He has the certain something that distinguishes him from the bulk of humankind: A real sensibility. Kyungsoo is a friend, talent, and kind person (unless it comes to self- and partner-defense, we need to be exact here) you just don’t find anywhere. If there’s one guy who knows what he’s doing? You’ve come to the right place. Whatever expectation you’re having, he can meet it with flying colors. You want to be serenaded with Spanish ballads before and after? No problem ma’am, coming up next, your own private concert! Kyungsoo is like, not gonna simply forget that he’s a walking RnB playlist. It’s called oral fixation, that also should entail some really sexy singing okay. When pleasing is an art, D.O is the Leonardo Da Vinci among his kind. Michelangelo. Raphael. And the other member from the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, I forgot his name. It might have been Donatello. Anyways, the four Italian Rennaissance Art dudes alright, that’s the spirit. Despite being so good in bed, he really does keep his secrets — probably so nobody else will hit on him in the search of a good lover — he’s yours entirely. How does he do it? Probably just intuition. And observing. He actually bothers with really ‚reading’ you.

In the right situation, he told you quite a while ago that he had a long-term partner before. You’re a little jealous of whoever it was. Still, he doesn’t give out any intimate and personal details because he’s respectful of his ex, as anyone should be, and they moved away miles from you already. On the other hand, he chose you now, who he’s in love with is you, and Kyungsoo truly comes with a whopping amount of sexual experience. A „just lean like this“ kind of advice of his has more trial-and-error knowledge behind it than you think. And, which is bittersweet, his breakup also gave him ardent will to make it 200% right this time and not just 70%, to really get to know you inside out, which is double the motivation. Kyungsoo is the blueprint, the instruction video, the romantic novel, the sex ed handbook, the latest edition. Not that he eats you out like a pornstar. He doesn’t think too highly of that. Contrary to how people hype that benchmark. It’s too much going buckwild with the fingers, and it’s too short, too shallow, too showy. Kyungsoo advocates for a more loving and indulgent approach, and doing it no strings attached just because. It doesn’t inherently lead to anything else. He’s not here to get sucked off. He’s too busy making you arch. Has a tender hold around your thighs. Not a grip, that would be too strong. Kyungsoo is too deliberate and soft to be seriously brash with you. He can’t stand pushy behavior. Takes his time. Makes it all no big deal. Gets really swollen lips. There are at least three types of foreplay before he even remotely puts his mouth on you. Trails his tongue around the best spots. Listens for the desired effect. Bought some elegant toys to use on your clit. Incorporates it like the most natural thing in the world. But make no mistake: His glorious lips still leave the most intense tingle there is. He makes you wanna explode. Everything he does is well-thoughtout. Kyungsoo is a champ of the highest order. Doesn’t care if technique is boring on paper. It works wonders in practice. He’s such a keeper.

[ play the matchmaker on ao3 ]

MASTERLIST

♦︎ FINAL NOTE » if you managed to rat out your bias among the questions, due congratulations 😏 i really enjoyed creating something more experimental, tell me where you landed and how you liked the results! thinking about it, if i entered the roulette... i’d probably wind up with the angelic but handsome devil ;)

1K notes · View notes

cas-skz · 1 year

Text

FRIEND AGREEMENT

Pairing: Han x fem!reader Word Count: 3k Summary: A mutual agreement leads to a passion filled night with your best friend. Warning: 18+ please!!!, loss of virginity (m & f), swearing, drinking, smoking, oral, unprotected sex, penetration, creampie. Usual sex stuff yanno

NOT EDITED - I suck at grammar cause french immersion fucked me over as a kiddo. That's why @littleforeignaffairs usually checks it for me...but this is her bias. SURPRISE BITCH.

"Are you sure I won't hurt you?" Han questioned shyly, his fingers slowly sliding your panties down. It was a drunken, high on edibles night that had gotten you into this position with your best friend - missionary to be exact, and the idea for both of you to lose your virginities. "I don't know." You half giggle, hands covering your face. "I've only rubbed my clit...so I don't know...I just don't know." You mumble through your hands. Han let out a little laugh, grabbing both your arms and moving you so you were sitting up to face him. Sure he was your best friend, everything felt comfortable, you were definitely relaxed enough and Han was...very good looking. But you may be having second thoughts. "Hey Y/n, you know we don't have to do this right?" His voice was soft, his touch even softer as he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and looked into your eyes. "I mean it. If you're not comfortable we can do it another time...or you know -" You cut him off, "I think I just need more liquid courage, but I want to do this." So you made your way to the living room, stealing Han's shirt - which was all you were wearing and he following behind in just some basketball shorts. The two of you downed a bunch of shots and Han had someone convinced you to take a bong rip with him, which ended with you coughing your lungs up and him laughing uncontrollably. Now, with the music blasting and the two of you dancing and singing your hearts out, things just seemed to fall into place. You were in the middle of a twirl when you lost balance, falling onto Han's lap, who had been sitting on the couch taking another hit from the bong. "Oh- Hello." He said with a laugh, the surprise expression on his face sending you into a giggle fit. You wrapped your arms around his neck, using one of them to ruffle his hair. "Guess I fell for you. That wasn't in the agreement." You slur, having pretty much lost your filter from the concoction of weed and alcohol. Han's hand ran slowly on your thigh, sending goosebumps throughout. "Agreements are stupid anyways." He mumbled, bloodshot eyes moving to focus on you. "Lay down." Han said softly. He hovered over you, searching your face to try and figure out what state you were in. Having been best friends since childhood, he knew how to figure you out and could read you like a book, but since you had both turned 21, things had shifted slightly and almost every drunken night out had ended with you two back at one or the others place, usually waking up in joking disgust, stating, "You again." It was all fun and games until now, as the male lowered himself slightly, moving some hair from your face. "Open your eyes Y/n." He said softly. You were met with a gentle smile as he leaned down, placing a kiss just under your ear. "I think you're too drunk." He whispered, his lips working their way to your neck, making you moan softly. His kisses turned into gently bites, moving from different spots of your neck down to your collar bone. "But fuck, I want you so bad." Han he managed to get out.

You snap out of the slight daze he had you in, catching his lips as he was working his way back up. You pressed your lips deeply into his, which he retuned, kissing you softly as you moved your legs slightly, allowing you to pull Han even closer to you. "I need you." You whisper, causing him to stop and look down at you with soft eyes, still filled with lust. "And I'm not to drunk. Scouts honor." Your words made him fully smile shyly, his cheeks flushing a deep red. It was your version of 'I promise' which you had been using since being kids. "Scouts honor?" He asked, slowly moving his lips back to your neck. You nod confidently, leaning up to take the shirt you had stole off and tossing it to one side. Han pulled you into him, crashing his lips into yours as his hand gripped your hip and he leaned back to pull you on top of him. It shocked you a little when you felt how hard he already was, your bare bottom resting perfectly onto his length as you followed his previous movements and moved your lips to his neck, biting and gently sucking at his salty skin. His hips bucked into you as you bit down a little harder, a quiet curse escaping his mouth and his hand smacked down on your rear, causing a small whine of pleasure to escape your lips. "You like that?" He questioned sheepishly. You leaned up slightly, biting your lip as you gave him a little nod, and started to move down his body. Freeing his erection, you wrapped your hand around his length and ran your thumb over the tip, swirling the pre-cum around before leaning down to clean up the little mess you had made from trying to figure out what your next move was. Han's moan was loud when you started to suck his cock, your mouth uncontrollably watering as you found a comfortable rhythm he seemed to enjoy as his hands tangled in your hair. As you continued to bob your head and explore his cock, you managed to hit your gag reflex, causing Han to jerk your head away and look down at you concerned. "Are you okay?" He asked, pulling you back up towards him, hands cupping your cheek as he looked at you intensely. Moving his hands down to your sides, placing slowly tender kisses on his lips as you moved to position him over you. "I'm fine, just new at this."

Han's lips worked at your neck once more, his bites a little rougher than previously, his hand worked it's way between your legs, pushing them apart slightly before running along your folds, sending a shiver through your body at the unfamiliar touch. Moving his lips back to yours, he kissed you deeply as he pushed one finger into your entrance, moving it slowly as his thumb naturally found your clit and moved in small circles. Whimpered moans escaped from your lips, glancing down as Han was now moving down, placing kisses towards your nipple, gently sucking for a moment then positioning himself so his cock met your entrance. His eyes locked to yours and you nodded, reassuring him that this is what you wanted. He ran the tip along your folds once more before slowly pushing himself inside you, making you curse in unison as he paused, allowing your tight inside to adjust to his size. His thrusts were slow at first, easing you into the feeling and trying to keep himself from finishing right away.

As the pace picked up, you felt your body loosen and go fully into relaxation, causing waves of pleasure you'd never felt before. Han's face was hidden in the cushion next to you as his hips started to pick up speed, muffling his moans that he couldn't control anymore. "So fucking good." You hiss, feeling your body start to jerk, an unfamiliar wave of pleasure building. His face lifted from the pillow, cursing again as he pushed his lips into yours, roughly kissing you as his hips picked up pace and your nails dug into his back. "I'm gonna cum." You managed to get out through kisses. Han nods against you, his lips moving slowly from your lips to just under your ear. "Where do you want me to cum?" He moaned, slowing his pace a little to look into your eyes. With a small smile on your lips, you let your fingers rest gently on his jawline "I want us to cum together." you confirm, pulling him back into the kiss as his hips picked up speed again making your walls tighten around him as his cock starts to twitch inside you, sending you both into a furry of moans. "Fuck, Y/n... fuck." Han cursed, his cum warming your insides as you felt him climax, which only pushed you over the edge. Your lips met again as your bodies calmed, melting back into each other as Han slowly pulled out of you, the cum dripping from your insides as your legs shook from the pleasure. His twitching cock rested against your folds as he pressed his forehead into yours, a shaky laugh escaping his lips. "I'm glad it was you." He smiled, placing another gentle kiss, "Me too." You agreed.

401 notes · View notes