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risingsouls · 2 years

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Recruited: Chapter 41

[This chapter is much shorter than the rest have been and I PROBABLY could have just tacked it on to 40 like I originally planned, but I kinda like having their interaction stand alone. I’ve been sitting on this interaction at this point for literal months now, and I’m glad to FINALLY get to write it. It’s been SO LONG since these two just got to TALK so yeh :’3

Anyway, as usual, read my other stuff over here!

Nabooru

The threeway spar between herself, Vegeta, and Trunks slowed to a natural pause as the sun dipped low behind the horizon, the final night preceding the day of reckoning fast approaching. In the morning, they would meet Cell and fight for their lives and the future of the planet on his twisted terms. Their ten days were almost up, and Nabooru had no real idea if any of their efforts over that too-short time would prove enough to dispose of the bioandroid. And she didn't dare ask anyone else if they felt they had a chance, if only to spare her own neutral facade from breaking in the face of her lack of any real confidence going into the Cell Games.

Nabooru touched down on one of the few plateaus that remained intact in the area and stretched her arms above her head. Vegeta landed nearby, tail unwinding from his waist, and Trunks floated a few meters from the edge. They all bore the physical tells of battle, from rips in their clothing and sweat glistening on their skin to scrapes and bruises here and there. Their agreement to take it easy to spare their energy and health didn't last long; Nabooru attributed it to equal parts anxiety and simply being unable to allow it.

Vegeta hadn't been particularly pleased about allowing Trunks to join them but, after sitting on the sidelines long enough, waiting for her and his son to finish their fight, he lost patience and jumped in. Good practice even though she didn't expect anyone would fight more than a single opponent considering the set up would resemble the World Martial Arts Tournament, but Nabooru welcomed the challenge. Vegeta always pushed her, but Trunks had an entirely different fighting style, new moves and strategies for her to pick apart and learn to combat. Fighting the two together kept her mind occupied and off of what the next day might bring.

"I think I'm going to head back," Trunks said, tying his lilac locks back again. "I want to spend time with mom before…well, you know."

"Sure. See you tomorrow, Trunks."

Nabooru waved and Vegeta offered little more than a mild grunt of half acknowledgement before the hybrid took off toward West City once more. She lowered herself down onto the red stone and let her legs dangle over the side, resting back on her hands. Her gaze lingered on the skyline, soaking in the last light of the day and admiring the beautiful hues it dyed the sky in those final moments. She half expected Vegeta to protest, insist they return to their training, but none came. And, if she wouldn't have been able to sense him, she would have sworn he left by his impossible silence.

"I can't remember the last time I was able to just sit and watch the sunset," she mused, more to herself than the prince. "It used to be one of my favorite things to do back home."

"Best enjoy this one. It might be your last."

A daunting thought bluntly voiced but failed to dampen the experience. She felt oddly calm despite it all. Her nerves, her sense of responsibility for helping ensure their success for at least Nappa's and Raditz's sake quieted. Through it all, she never feared her own death, the idea of it always on her mind from habit, of a warrior's mindset drilled into her from a young age. Though her Earth life was drastically different from her life on Hyrule or in the force, even in times of peace, she never fully shook that part of her identity, relevant or not. And she didn't mind; it helped her feel more connected to her roots. Her people.

"Silly as it was, the Gerudo believed that a warrior's spirit was immortalized in the stars." Her head fell back, examining the points of light slowly making their appearance in the darkening sky. "Unoriginal, too, I guess, when that seemed to be a common belief for other peoples, too. But the proper Gerudo burial called for cremation and spreading the ashes among the desert sand. The first allowed the spirit to rise to the sky and the second bound the physical body to the desert as homage to V'riqi, the goddess of the sand. It was how the Gerudo found peace in the afterlife, and could continue to guide and empower the living if they chose."

Vegeta snorted and moved to stand next to her, arms folded over his chest. "Such superstition. Are you telling me this so I make sure to do that for you if you die?"

"If there's a body left." A smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "Though if there is, and if they refuse to bring me back and you're feeling generous, I wouldn't be opposed."

Silence fell over the pair, comfortable and familiar. The sort they grew used to on the force either following a heavier topic of conversation or when neither of them could seem to work up the nerve or comfort level to say what might be weighing on their minds. None of which was helped by the constant need for discretion that, at least for her part, deterred much meaningful conversation.

As if realizing the same, that none could overhear them save for the wind, or, maybe, because he knew they might both be dead in less than a day, he spoke: "The Saiyans had similar beliefs." She glanced over as he sat next to her, half ashamed of the mild surprise in her slightly widened eyes and parted lips. He pulled a knee up and draped his forearm over it. "The spirits of fallen warriors contribute to the boost we receive when we suffer life-threatening injuries. They add their strength to ours and, in some way, continue to live."

He fell silent again, gaze settled on the horizon and, for a second, slightly narrowed. Then, he scoffed. “Not that it matters. It’s all just religious garbage and superstition Nappa made sure I didn’t completely forget, even if he didn’t believe in it either. We weren’t a very spiritual people in the first place as far as I can tell, but the Empire’s influence stamped out plenty in their rule.”

Nabooru traced a pattern in the dirt by her hip, biting her lip. His mention of Nappa reminded her that she had yet to tell Vegeta he lived. She could also add Bardock and Raditz to that list now, too. Would it be worth telling him if they were just going to die tomorrow? Or did that make it the prime opportunity to? In some ways, she felt guilty that she hadn’t told him straight away. However, she and Nappa agreed it was for the best he didn’t know. In the past few years, Vegeta’s mental state made him unpredictable. While she doubted he would have even registered it let alone cared, she didn’t want to risk him conjuring up a reason to want to kill Nappa again. Sating his own ego sat at the top of her list of reasons, and with the spate of losses he took on Earth and Namek, he might consider that a “win” he wanted to stick after all.

“Hm, I’d believe that. Working so close to Frieza, I realized quickly just how much they preferred to push races away from their cultures to conform to the bland, uniform expectation of the Empire,” she settled on, pushing the task of revealing her secret into the brush for the moment. “I can’t count the amount of times I watched him belittle or outright threaten someone for an accent, their clothing, or even a part of their body.”

“Tch, he was always disgusted with our tails, which is why we usually didn't let them free of our waists. While it kept them safe for those that needed the extra security for their tails, it was prudent to keep them there to ensure we didn’t offend Frieza.” Vegeta spat on the ground next to him. “His father never seemed to care, but once Frieza was in charge, I remember the constant reminders to keep my tail around my waist when he was around the palace.” The ghost of his smirk passed over his visage. “Of course, I only listened half of the time once I found out the why.”

Nabooru snickered behind her hand. “It is what he deserved. Your tails are a part of you, and I personally thought you looked naked without yours.”

A hum rumbled in his chest and the appendage in question swayed leisurely behind him. His obsidian eyes fell to his gloved hand, and his fingers curled into his palm, leather crunched with the formation of his fist. Along with the un-clenching and re-clenching of his jaw, the reactions seemed out of place when their conversation felt so light. Fighting an internal battle it seemed. Over what, she could only guess: memories of Frieza and others like Zarbon and Dodoria belittling him and his race, how he failed to exact his revenge on the tyrant himself, or perhaps his more recent torment concerning Kakarot taking center stage again. It hardly mattered that she didn’t expect an answer when she surmised to ask, for he stopped the inquiry before it could fully form.

“I didn’t mean what I said. Back then.”

She stared, more than confused, not only by the fact that she couldn’t begin to place what he meant, but that he uttered anything verging on an apology. “I guess I don’t follow. You’ve said plenty of mean if not cruel things to me in the past, you know.”

Vegeta growled, and she was certain he was going to drop the entire topic of conversation. “Ugh, you’re insufferable. How do you not–” His tail lashed the stone then curved around his hip to rest between them, the fur standing on end.

“Vegeta, you don’t have to…”

“Shut up. Just let me…” He huffed, his nostrils flaring. “I never really thought you wanted to work alongside Frieza as his general. I knew you weren’t going behind my back or jeopardizing our plans. Nor did I think you a common whore, let alone his.”

Mouth once more agape, the woman was dumbfounded. For the most part, she had moved on from that scene. So long as she didn’t consider it, labeled it as ancient history and impassioned words that did not reflect his true view of her, she could push it back aside if the memory cropped up. However, if it caught her off guard, a sucker punch on those nights where her mind threatened to wholly unravel and convince her that her life had become pointless after all, it instead dug its sharp claws in and twisted their every subsequent interaction from neutral to verging toward positive again into judgmental and degrading, no matter the topic, tone, or outcome. For him to confirm that he never thought that low of her after all…it affected her far more significantly than she could have guessed.

"It was…simply easier for me to be angry with you," he continued, once more surprising her by explaining himself without further prodding. "I felt like a fool because I had begun to trust you, and then Frieza pulled that stunt. I knew you didn't want the promotion, nor did you obtain it by going behind my back, even before Frieza told us about his asinine plan and theatrics. But convincing myself that you were a lowlife traitor was…easier for me to handle than the reality I could do nothing about. It made it easier to move on and move forward and not brood on losing you and the damage it did to my plans."

Nabooru chuckled, soft with a hint of bitterness. "As much as I want to, I guess I can't blame you for that. I tried to do the same thing and we all had to do whatever we could to survive. I imagine if you didn't cut ties like that, Frieza would have taken note and used me against you."

It was what she feared all along from the moment she set eyes on the Saiyan trio. It was why they kept their trysts–no matter how emotionally detached they were–and budding trust in each other as secret as they could. The wrong people catching wind not only threatened their plans for liberation, but could have placed them at anyone's mercy if they developed or showed any more care for each other than they had. There was always danger in vulnerability for people like them. While their situations changed drastically since Namek, neither seemed to have fully abandoned that portion of their survival instincts. And maybe they never would.

"Thank you for telling me, though. I sort of told myself that, to…you know…soften the blow, but…it's nice to be certain of." She found the horizon again, the last light nearly doused and replaced by the black velvet of night. Picking at a tear in her leggings, she pushed herself up to sit properly. "Despite it all, I was glad when I sensed your energy on Namek. It was comforting in its own way. I didn't know how things would end for me there, and I assumed either you or Frieza would kill me, but I wanted to make that last stand with you regardless. Just like we talked about."

Another rumble sounded from Vegeta's throat, his features twisting into the same pained stubborn grimace as before. His tail thumped the stone between them once, cracks snaking from the point of impact. "I wouldn't have killed you even if Frieza hadn't," he muttered, gruff voice nearly inaudible. He very intentionally kept his dark eyes from finding her gold ones. Once more, she idly wondered why he bothered to say any of this at all if it caused him so much strain. She understood how deeply ingrained his pride was, how the mental wounds endured on Namek still tormented both of them to varying degrees. He wasn't one to openly admit to being wrong or to the mistakes he made, brushing it off as the past and he refused to dwell on it. It's why she never would have bothered outright asking him about any of the topics he expressed with, at best, minimal prodding.

"I would have kept my word and taken you home. Let you decide from there."

The home she no longer had by that point; she wasn't sure if it was that thought or the revelation itself that caused the pang in her chest. Her longing for her people and planet or a strange sense of guilt for adamantly assuming Vegeta would have broken his promise to her and shown her no mercy if he killed Frieza. Since she had never been fully convinced he actually viewed her as a traitor who went behind his back for a more prestigious rank, had she been unfair to him? While mean-spirited, harsh, and brutally honest with her and everyone else by default, he had never been outright disrespectful or unfair to her before that moment after the unwanted promotion. At least, not in ways she could shrug off as his haughty nature. Had she been too quick to assume the worst of him in that regard, considering their past interactions?

"I think this might be the most you've said to me since after Namek," she replied, laughing. "Maybe I should have been taking advantage of these life-threatening crises more often."

Vegeta merely grunted and, with her mind traipsing toward the what could have been, she added, "And I still would have let you call Hyrule or whatever we renamed it your home, too, if you wanted. Like I promised."

She had to shove the memories of that particular day to the back of her mind–the first time she saw him free of his armor and battlesuit despite several other trysts preceding that one; their desire-warmed bodies entangled skin to skin; the sensation of his tongue, lips, and teeth littering her flesh with marks; the kisses she wished she would have savored longer or stole more of had she known–with some effort. Memories she could potentially entertain later, alone, if the dread of the impending battle awaiting them the next day didn't settle back in. It, somewhat shamefully, wouldn't be the first time she recalled that final coupling with more longing than she should have.

Focused once more on the moment and glad he either didn't notice any potential changes in her or she did a good job hiding the lurid vein her thoughts wandered toward, Nabooru crushed a pebble beneath her thumb at her hip. She sucked in a breath. "While we're being honest with each other, there's…something I've been meaning to tell you, too."

A sidelong glance, and she met Vegeta's minute squint. His posture had relaxed several degrees, at least, though it might not last much longer. Nabooru swallowed. "Nappa's alive. So is Raditz. And another Saiyan called Bardock, Raditz's and Goku's father."

"You're joking," he responded, though the accusation lacked conviction. He glared at her, daring her to confirm it. When she remained silent, he scoffed. "And you're just now bothering to tell me this?"

Nabooru returned his glare, chin lifting. "Honestly, I didn't think you would even care."

"I don't," he insisted, springing to his feet,"but you still could have said something!"

"We were busy, and I didn't want you to find some reason to kill Nappa again or putting a target on Bardock's back because he's related to Goku," she snapped back, standing herself and placing her hands on her hips. His growl was the only reply he offered, so she continued. "I've only known about Raditz for a few days. He hasn't been back long, I don't think."

"Tch, whoever wished him back had a dark sense of humor, obviously." His tail bristled again and stood nearly parallel to the ground in his frustration. "Though, I suppose that's not possible since it's been far longer than a year, and I don't see any of Kakarot's friends wasting a wish on Raditz or Nappa. As for the other one, he must be a lucky bastard that escaped Planet Vegeta somehow and made his way here for some foolish reason…"

"Nappa was revived by the same wish as we were," she explained, dragging her fingers along her scalp. "The dragon apparently still counted you as one of Frieza's men. And since it hadn't been an Earth year, he was included in the mix."

"Figures. And the other two?"

"Long stories short? Gods were involved."

Vegeta guffawed. "Ridiculous! If gods even exist, what the hell would they want with the likes of Raditz or his father?"

"From what they told me, they apparently thought they deserved a second chance at life for varying reasons."

"Where are they now?"

Nabooru narrowed her eyes. "That depends on if you plan on going after them for some stupid reason."

"Don't be a fool." He rolled his eyes, and crossed his arms tight over his chest. "I wouldn't waste my energy on any of them. And Cell might kill us all and them tomorrow anyway, so why bother?"

"Fine. Raditz is staying with Nappa here on Earth and Bardock went out to dismantle whatever was left of Frieza's armies and empire. Satisfied?"

He eyed her for several moments longer, fingers tapping on his arm. Finally, he harrumphed and rotated on his heel a quarter turn. "Whatever, like I said, it might not matter after tomorrow. All of our second chances might be snuffed out by an overgrown insect."

"At least his perfect form isn't as hideous as the first two." She shuddered. "Really calls into question Gero's taste level."

"An Earthling with taste?" The hint of a smirk curled his lips. "I have yet to meet one, so I'm not surprised a reclusive madman doesn't possess an ounce of it himself. I plan to destroy the eyesore no matter what it takes. No one gets away with humiliating me the way he did."

"Not if I do it first. I'm not keen on dying just yet, nor am I about to let you or Goku have all the fun. I haven't gotten to fight him in this form yet, and I'm definitely stronger than I was." She flexed her right arm and winked when he rolled his eyes. “That said…Should we get one last spar in before we turn in for the night? I’m starting to feel antsy again.”

“Hmph, fine.” He tugged the bottoms of his gloves, securing them. “But don’t complain when you’re sore tomorrow.”

She waved a hand dismissively and, when energy surrounded him signaling his impending flight, she called out, “Wait!”

Another impatient growl and he powered down again. “What is it now? I thought you wanted–ow! What are you doing?!”

“Just hold still for a minute.” One hand grasping his wrist, orange ki retreated back into her index finger as blood oozed from the fresh cut she made in his forearm. Swiping up some of the blood with her fingertip, she pressed it to the sturdy plating of his armor, drawing three pointed spikes with two lines under the point where they met. She took more blood and finished the symbol with a curved line underneath, the ends coming to sharp points and another small point in the center of it, pointing downward.

“There. Does that look right? I was drawing from memory.”

He clicked his tongue and pulled his armor out in order to see what she had done. He observed her handiwork for several seconds, dark brows pinching together. “Where did you even see this?” he asked, letting his armor fall back into place on his chest. “I didn’t wear it on my armor anymore by the time you came around.”

“I asked Nappa. He has it framed in his office.”

“Of course he does.” He wiped excess blood from the cut. “What’s the purpose of this, anyway?”

Nabooru chewed her lip. “I don’t know, really. Nappa said it used to be on the armor worn by Saiyan royalty, so I thought you might like to have it on yours. And since it was a sort of last minute idea, I couldn’t exactly ask Bulma to put it on there for you.” She shrugged a shoulder. “I just thought you might like it. I painted my people’s symbol on mine the same way.”

Vegeta rolled his shoulders with a thoughtful rumble. “The blood is a nice touch. Very Saiyan.” He strode to the edge of the plateau, his energy encasing him once more. “But now that we’ve finished arts and crafts, let’s get on with it. We don’t have all the time in the world.”

He took off to another portion of the desert, a streak of red against the dark sky. After adjusting her own clothing, or what remained of the leggings and sports bra she had donned that morning, she zipped after him, a collected smile on her lips despite the horrors they might face in the ring with Cell.

#fic: recruited #:: nabooru ☀#// vegeta ♅#ah we're coming up to some real emotional shit #and i don't mean the cell games :3

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draikar · 1 year

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Perseverence

One of my favorite quotes is from the movie "Galaxy Quest." "Never give up. Never surrender!" It's an important concept, I think. Life is full of challenges. Everything we want to do has some sort of hurdle that must be jumped. Whether it's the simplicity of just getting up in the morning, all the way to planning out that dream vacation or making an amazing scientific discovery. Sure, some activities are easy enough, but they still take time and some days are better than others for getting them done. Finding that dream job, though, is much harder. When the challenge is hard, when we're not sure how to overcome it, when the first attempt completely fails....it can be so very easy to just give up. Why put in the effort, you might ask yourself, if the payout is merely pain? If all that time and energy is for naught. What's the point? I have faced these emotions many times. Sometimes I have, in fact, given up. Surrendered. Just went the easy way and decided not to push it. And in some cases, this can even be an okay response. There ARE days when letting go can be good. The rest of the time, though... Perseverance in the face of adversity is actually incredibly important. To pull out a stereotypical example: Thomas Edison did not invent the light bulb on the first try. Surely in the hundreds of attempts he made he at some point wanted to just give up. It wasn't working, yet he persevered. Something told him there had to be a way to get what he was after and he kept trying. the Wright Brothers certainly didn't get a working plane on their first attempt at flight. It took time, engineering and, I'm sure, several trials to finally build something that flew, and even then the first flight traveled only a very short distance. Almost any book author you talk to will tell you that they were rejected many times by publishers before they finally found someone that would give their book a try. Every success story includes moments of failure. Every...single...one. The same rule applies to you and me. Whether you're looking for a job, trying to paint for the first time, or exploring a new sport. Even something as simple as reading. Think back. Could you read the first time you looked at a book? I certainly couldn't. If we let these failures hold us back, we miss out on some amazing things that come from trying again. Thomas Edison DID invent the lightbulb and now our houses are illuminated day and night. The Wright Brothers built a plane and now we can travel the world in mere hours. Maybe a couple of days. Those authors who pushed through failure to find success brought us entire worlds to explore. Maybe not all of us will become famous for our work, but just imagine what a little perseverance can do for you. Sure the path is hard, and sometimes we must change direction to find success, but once that challenge is overcome? You have surely persevered before, and you have found success. Maybe it was something small, but every small thing can still be important. Maybe success was just getting out of bed in the morning. Some days that truly is a victory. Me? I've been wanting to write my fantasy books since I was in high school. I have stumbled many times. The project of writing a book is, in many ways, overwhelming, but I'm not giving up yet. This is important to me and I know I can do it. It may take practice and a lot of time, but I will find a way to succeed. Even if that book never gets popular...at the least I will have written it, and that is success. What are YOU struggling with? What challenges do you face that make your goals hard to achieve? What will it take for you to try again? Can you push through them? Is there a way around them? Whatever you do, keep trying. Especially if it is important to you. Learn from the failures, for that is part of the process, and use that knowledge to strengthen your next try. Get up and try again. If this goal truly matters, you deserve to persevere and give it another shot. Whatever it is you're trying to do, don't give up. Don't surrender. Take break, catch your breath, then try again. I'm rooting for you. I wish you the best of luck in your endeavors. I know you can do this. As for me? I'm going to write some more short stories and start organizing that book.

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#Draikar #perseverance

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rheawritessometimes · 3 years

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{ Childe x GN!Reader }

{ Summary } Childe gets an owie while sparing. Series Masterlist

{ Warnings } Violence, Swearing, Angry Reader, Injury, Physical Intimacy (Kissing).

{ Notes } Hurting Childe just a little because he refused to come home for me. Lost the 50/50. Reader is a sword user. Reader is suggested to be the Traveler. Self-indulgent again because all my writing is. This one is a real trainwreck but I didn't want to go too long without posting. Something better than nothing? Masterlist

{ Word Count } 2,404

Meeting Childe at the Golden House every week had been your routine for a while now. Right after you had defeated him the first time, he immediately begged you to train with him and you gave in, unable to bear those puppy-dog eyes. And the entire week he spent pestering you about it.

The whole fiasco with Osial had been put behind the both of you. It was probably true that you were too quick to forgive Childe, but he was just so charming. Not to mention he often paid for your meals, suggesting going out to eat after your sessions or if he saw you around the harbor. On a few occasions, you had been out eating with friends or on your own and found he had picked up your tab.

Since Liyue hadn't been destroyed and you got free food out of it, you really weren't all too upset about the situation. The Snezhnayan was actually pretty easy to get along with when Fatui matters weren't involved. He made you laugh too, so you supposed you could tolerate the once-weekly sparing sessions with him.

Childe called it sparing, but normal people didn't spar with actual weapons and fight like they were going to kill their partner. At first, you had tried to convince him it would be much better and safer for the both of you to use practice weapons instead of sharpened blades and arrows. He was quick to decline, saying something about both of you being competent enough not to get seriously hurt. You thought about refuting that on the basis that he had yet to beat you even once.

Even so, every week you found yourself pushing through the doors to the chamber Childe was always patiently waiting in. You'd never gotten there before him and wondered if he intentionally came early. You wouldn't be surprised if that was the case, he probably paced the room plotting his seemingly unobtainable victory.

The hydro vision paired with his combat experience and skill made him a difficult opponent, but he didn't seem terribly good at strategy. He might have been careless because it wasn't a real fight, but somehow you doubted that. He seemed the type to always give it his all. It could be that was his problem, since his loss usually came due to his exhaustion. Maybe if he didn't spend so much energy trying to show off he'd actually be a proper challenge.

"You're finally here," Childe proclaimed dramatically, voice echoing off the walls, "I thought you might have gotten lost on the way or something. Was starting to worry I'd need to go out and rescue you."

"I'm fifteen minutes early, Childe. How long have you been waiting?" you asked dryly, raising your eyebrow questioningly. You took a moment to shrug your adventuring pack off your shoulders and drop it near the door. You rolled your shoulders, relieved to be free of the weight.

"Ahah, anyways, we should get started. I have some business to attend to today," he responded, indiscreetly ignoring your question. It shouldn't have been very surprising that he didn't wait for your response before sending an arrow flying in your direction, but he'd always waited for you to signal you were ready before starting in the past.

Materializing your sword out of habit more than anything else, you raised it to block the arrow with the flat of the blade. The arrow bounced off the metal with a weak dink, clattering to the ground. If you'd reacted a moment later it would have pierced you.

You shot Childe a dirty look, irate from the cheap shot. He responded by grinning wider and taking aim again. You silently promised that he would face your wrath shortly.

Advancing towards him, you swatted the arrow flying your way with your sword. A bow would be less effective at close range, so you intended to close the distance. The redhead laughed, a hint of nervousness creeping into the sound at the pace of your advance. Or perhaps it was the building rage in your eyes.

The bow dematerialized, now Childe held dual hydro-blades in his hands in anticipation of close combat. Once in range, he immediately swiped at you with a blade. You stepped back out of the way, quickly bringing up your sword to parry the next slash coming from the opposite blade.

Childe seemed encouraged by you backing away, a smug look crossing his face. You furrowed your brows, he was so unthoughtful. He insists on using real weapons, shoots at you before you're ready, and now he has the audacity to get cocky.

You raise your blade to swing down at him and he catches your sword on crossed hydro-blades. He lets out a little huff of air, not expecting you to strike with such force, but his arms hold steady. You swiftly draw your blade back to slash at him again. Thorough training has you swiping at him with practiced ease while Childe is forced to switch to the defensive.

It gives you a sort of satisfaction to see his expression change to one of worry, it was your first time seeing such a look on him. You had no intention of actually hurting him, but it was nice to scare him a little. Maybe after this, he'd take the dangers of sparing with actual weapons a little more seriously. But probably not.

You're hardly thinking when his hydro-blades finally fail to parry your blows, the flat of your blade slamming into the side of his chest resulting in a soft crack barely loud enough to reach your ears. A look of surprise crosses your face when he lets out a pained grunt, what had happened finally being processed in your mind.

Immediately you drop your sword, ignoring it as it clatters to the ground before dematerializing. You were internally relieved to see his hydro-blades dissipate too, it would have been terribly unsportsmanly of him to stab you now. Stepping forward on instinct, you pause as you realize you're not exactly sure what to do.

Childe clutches his chest as he coughs a few times and a flood of panic washes over you. If you broke his ribs, his lungs could have been punctured. That would be bad.

"Fuck, that hurts," he huffed out before he attempted to gingerly sit down, right in the middle of the Golden House. Childe winced at the movement, but he managed to settle, leaning on his arms for support. His breathing was heavy from the strain of sparing and you felt extremely guilty, broken ribs had a tendency to hurt terribly and pain would flare up with every breath. At least he seemed to be breathing okay, so his lungs were probably intact.

"Let me get something to ease the pain," you said hastily, jogging towards the door to grab your bag. Your first thought was to numb him up before bringing him to Bubu Pharmacy to get some proper help.

"Aw, are you actually worried about me?" he cooed teasingly, maintaining that signature annoying grin despite the pain that followed him speaking. It was easy to ignore him as you rummaged through your bag for something useful.

It crossed your mind that it would be exceedingly difficult to get him all the way back to Liyue if you gave him anything strong. That limited your options rather greatly, adding that on to your lacking medical knowledge and limited variety of resources left you with fewer options than you would have liked. He probably could make it back without any anesthetic but it would be slow and you'd feel terrible for it.

Even with your lack of selection, you were thankful to have some knowledge and materials for this sort of thing, adventuring made you better at improvising and you learned a lot along the way. Taking everything into consideration, you decided it would be best to go with something topical. You could make a salve to numb up the area and then hopefully drag him to Bubu Pharmacy.

"I'm really sorry, Childe," you apologized, "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Oh don't worry about it, this isn't the first time I've broken my ribs. Probably won't be the last, either," he replied with a laugh, which caused him to wince. You only frowned at him as you pulled out some plants to grind up. A rock would have worked, but you kept a mortar and pestle for this kind of thing after realizing you'd be doing it often.

You were soon mashing some leaves and a few petals into a paste, with some water Childe so graciously provided. Having a hydro user around was rather convenient when practicing field medicine.

"Whatcha makin'?" Childe asks after a short period of silence, leaning over to get a closer look. You wonder if he's actually curious or if he just can't tolerate the quiet. It seemed the two of you were always talking when you were together, save for when your sparing got too intense to spare the breath.

"A salve to numb you up so I can drag you to Bubu Pharmacy," you responded, still mostly focused on getting the paste to the right consistency.

"What? No, I can't go. I've got work to do," he argued, moving to stand up now.

You were quick to grab his wrist to prevent him from getting up, furrowing your brows. Childe paused, waiting for your explanation.

"You have at least one broken rib, whatever you need to do can wait," you told him sternly, maintaining eye contact. He turned his gaze away from you to hum in contemplation. He knew well enough that giving injuries time to heal was important, but so was his job.

"Fine, I guess what I was supposed to do today isn't that important," he relented, leaning back into a comfortable position once more. Childe had a feeling that if he had insisted on working you'd have found a way to stop him anyway.

"Can you take off your shirt?" you asked, trying to sound as casual and not awkward as possible once you were satisfied with the consistency of the paste. You would have offered to allow him to apply it himself but you figured it would be less painful this way, plus you'd need to bandage his chest afterward, so it didn't make much of a difference.

"Oh my, you're not usually this bold," he teased, reaching to begin undoing the clasps holding his jacket together. His remark made you decide against offering your assistance despite the awareness that even just wriggling out of the jacket probably hurt. It's okay to be a little petty sometimes. As a treat.

Once his torso was bare you shifted your position to be a bit closer and examined his side. There was already the beginning of bruising, but it would get much darker by tomorrow. You ignored the scars and other bruises that were present, very aware of the fact the redhead would tease you for staring if you looked any longer.

"I promise I'll be gentle," you assured, "But it'll probably hurt a little."

Childe just hummed, waving off your warning, so you gathered some of the salve on your fingers. You silently wished you'd had gloves that weren't absorbent with you so your hands wouldn't grow numb later.

It was a quick process of spreading the paste over his ribs, but his eyes remained on you the entire time. You couldn't be sure if he was just interested in what you were doing, but it surprised you that he remained entirely silent.

"It'll take a little while to numb up. I'm going to bandage your chest for support. This will hurt more," you informed him, dragging your pack towards you to dig out a roll of bandages.

"Don't worry, I'm a tough boy," he laughed in response, and you could only smile and shake your head at him. You had faith in his strength, but that didn't stop the guilt you felt over being responsible for his pain. It did make you feel better when he started reminiscing on past injuries he'd sustained in battle once you began bandaging him. How he could look back on them so fondly was a mystery to you.

At first, you were mindful to touch him as little as possible while you were wrapping the bandages. They needed to be a little tight to provide support but you tried to ensure they put as little pressure on his ribs as possible. Unfortunately, your fingers started to grow numb and you hadn't realized you'd been bandaging too tightly until Childe let out a soft grunt of pain.

"Fuck, sorry," you apologized, quickly unraveling the last section of bandaging to rewrap it more loosely.

"Don't worry about it," he said, thinking for a moment before adding, "But, if you want to make it up to me, a kiss would make me feel better."

Pausing in your ministrations, you looked up to see a cheeky grin on his face. You raised a brow, giving him an entirely unimpressed expression. It wasn't entirely uncommon for him to flirt like this, trying to get a reaction out of you. But as you reached one hand up to gently grab his chin, it was his turn to become flustered.

Leaning up, you pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek before moving away and releasing your hold on him. You patted his cheek twice, giving him an amused grin.

"You're welcome."

"Hey! That doesn't count!" Childe immediately whined, pouting at you. You could only laugh at his playful antics as you finally finished wrapping his chest.

"You're cruel, you know that?" the Snezhnayan grumbled, eyebrows still furrowed as he continued to pout. He really did seem like a spoiled kid at this moment and you laughed again, causing his frown to deepen.

You knew his demeanor was all theatrical, but as you stared at his expression you found yourself leaning towards him again. You gently pressed your lips to his, smiling into the kiss when his hands eagerly flew up to your face. You indulged in the kiss for a few moments, smirking when he followed you as you pulled away. Putting a hand on his shoulder, you halted his attempt to continue.

"You can have another kiss once you get checked out at Bubu Pharmacy."

If you read all that, I'm sorry lol. I wanted to spend more time on it but I don't want to take too long posting things. Anyways, if you have any better ideas for what I should write send them in. Please.

There's a part two now: Part 2

#.rhea writes #.r let's make a deal #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #childe x reader #genshin childe #childe #tartaglia #tartaglia x reader #genshin tartaglia #tartagalicious #taking my anger out on childe #but also simping for childe #fluff #is this fluff?

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all-things-fic · 3 years

Text

Rekindled

A/N: Firstly, I want to say a massive thank you to everyone who nominated me as November Author of the Month. I wasn’t expecting that at all and it was a lovely surprise! Secondly, here is Rekindled. Hope you all enjoy it!

This was originally meant to be for @majorharry‘s 20k challenge, but I failed on that front. It’s a long one so grab yourself a brew / beverage of choice and get comfy!

I’m about to disappear again as I usually do and start working on my Christmas fic, as well as those Quarantine Harry updates.

Tonight had started out like any other Saturday evening.

You had been out with friends. Cosy little pub off a cobbled backstreet, in a secluded corner. Very British. Very cramped. All old wood and leather bound seats. The slight smell of stale beer in the air and plenty of chatter that sometimes had you shouting to ensure the friend sitting two people away from you was able to hear.

This was a pub that you frequented for quite a while now. A pub that made it so some in your friendship group could grab a proper ale, while others opted for more of a fruity alcoholic beverage. A real all rounder. Did a nice roast on Sunday - eat in or takeout, choice was yours - for a reasonable price by London’s standards.

The minute he had walked in, you had noticed him. You could recognise his hunched shoulders anywhere. Forever silently willing him to stand up straight and embrace the way his height made him tower over some of his friends. Rather than have him try and make himself smaller. Part of you believed it was to buy him time so he wouldn’t get noticed whenever he knew he was going to be in particular place for longer than an hour.

He had been joined by a male friend. Someone you also knew quite well. Someone who you had seen quite recently actually. An art showing over at Cob Gallery being the reason for your meeting which hadn’t happened too long ago. You remembered the invite being shoved through your letterbox, a far cry from when he used to shunt you a quick text and write your name at the bottom of the guest list using Sam’s kohl eyeliner on the evening of the event itself.

You’d taken the piss out of him that afternoon, a quick phone call telling him that he was “no longer the Tomo Campbell I know”.

That had been two weeks ago. So, you knew it would be rude of either you, or him, to not acknowledge the other. And you knew he would be the one to cave in.

And you were right.

Tomo’s friendly brown eyes had glanced at you one too many times, over Harry’s shoulder for him to not give you - or anyone else who may have made the meeting slightly awkward - away.

The continuous trailing of his gaze had in fact caused Harry to chuckle awkwardly, joking at how he wouldn’t let Sam know of his wandering eye as they shared a night on the town. The joke fell short though, as did his chuckle, when at the last glance over Harry twisted his body around to see what all the fuss was about as he leaned against the bar and let his eyes fall onto yours.

You broke his gaze, reaching forward for your balloon glass full of gin and pressed your face as far into it as possible. A feeling filled you that made you hope the hot flush you felt underneath your skin hadn’t started to give away your unnecessary panic.

See things with you and Harry hadn’t ended badly. In fact, it was more like a fizzle. A bit like the sweet that pops against your tongue. Sometimes you enjoyed it and other times it was unfulfilling, some would say annoying. The latter explained the ending.

No big fights. No fat, hot tears rolling down cheeks. No loss of voices from slanging matches and screaming until the early hours. It just... Ended.

That fizzle was what made it amicable. You both breaking it off to go and do your own thing. Neither openly keeping up to date with the other, but still absolutely aware of what was going on. In your case that was a lot easier, in his not so much. However, Harry somehow managed to master the art of leading questions without seeming too much of a beg with mutual friends.

As he looked on at you taking the longest sip from your drink, he had smiled awkwardly before he allowed his eyes to roam the scene of your group of friends and tried to analyse what met his gaze. A group of eight, men heavily outweighing the women with their five to your genders three.

He would definitely class himself a liar if he was asked about where his mind had gone, and he said that it hadn’t gone to queries around relationship statuses and potential partnerships with any of the men around the table.

He eyed them, all five of them. Definitely wasn’t the guy three people away, neither was it the guy sat diagonally opposite you. They were blonde, definitely not your type. Well, blondes hadn’t been your type the last time he had been between your legs.

His eyes had been zoned in on the guy that had his back facing him, he wasn’t sitting directly opposite you. Instead he was seated in the opposite seat, but one. Better positioning for someone who wanted to obtain a cheeky glance and still be inconspicuous to the group around him.

“I’m gonna have to go and say hello,” Tomo pulled Harry out of his trance, his eyes lifting up from the beer mat that he had been tapping agitatedly against the bar top once he’d turned away from the scene.

“��S fine wi’me, mate,” Harry softly smiled, reaching for his drink and taking a large sip.

“Come an’ get it over with, H.”

Harry had quietly eyed Tomo after his open ended suggestion of joining him. His eyes slightly sceptical at the proposal but somehow his legs took over his decision making as he trudged behind his artist friend and got introduced to those faces he didn’t know and acknowledged the ones that he did.

Pulling up a pew at the table had been a lot easier for Harry than he had expected. Dragging the wooden stool to sit himself in between you and the guy to his right, who he now knew to be Conor and the person he really wanted to know the name of was Joe. Joe was a wanker- well, banker. Same difference, right?

Conversation wasn’t always smooth sailing. The larger group helped however. Also helped him get his moments with you and you with him. Moments that neither of you had known you needed before being sat with his knee brushing yours, due to how cramped your table had suddenly become.

And it was sweltering now. The bare knee of your ripped jeans, knocking against Harry’s bare knee from his ripped jeans as he edged himself closer to the table wanting to catch what the topic of conversation was down at the easily the “laddier” end of the table.

Harry had fit right in. Of course his demeanour changed with certain people. Those he had already been in the presence of those years previous were immediately hit with morbid delivery and sarcastic humour, while others were met with his sometimes hard to crack shell.

And like always as the night had gone on the crowd had tapered off. Some had decided to go onto a club, an offering your declined not wanting to spend the night with people rubbing up against you and feeling like one of the oldest people in the room.

Some of your friends had gone back to their other commitments, like Tomo who made it quite clear he didn’t want to miss his “curfew” that Sam had given him considering he was the one on swimming lesson duty in the morning.

That ended up leaving you and Harry. Surprisingly a pairing that you hadn’t expected to happen that evening and even more surprising, one that you weren’t particularly dreading.

You knew it had something to do with the gin, and definitely had something to do with the tequila.

Part of you was thankful for the less than responsible drinking habits you had taken that evening. It allowed you to remain calm as your ex-boyfriend sat across from you looking like time was on his side and aging was being kind to him.

It was definitely being kinder to him than it was to you, anyway.

Bastard.

Conversation had been a mixture of light and heavy. Harry showing you a series of different pictures he had taken on his travels as he jetset around the world with his album and his modelling contract (that he adamantly assured you wasn’t a modelling contract), and basically just his very healthy bank balance.

The heavy had been you bitching about the contract project you had been working on and asking him if he would be willing to potentially commit a serious crime with you against one of your colleagues. He’d quipped he probably wasn’t suitable but he was sure he knew a guy.

At one point, his eyes had dropped down to your pedicured toes in your black strappy heels. When he managed to drag his eyes away for your feet, and rested his chin on the inside heel of his palm, you knew he wanted to say something.

“‘M pretty sure we have matching pedis,” he groused, voice so low that if you hadn’t been watching his mouth you wouldn’t have caught a word of what he had just said.

Eyes flicking up to his green gaze, you saw the light shimmering through them. Clearly he was amused by your expression of shock and potential bemusement from his statement.

“Sod off,” you chided, pushing gently at his arm. “You’re joking.”

“‘M not darl-“ he cut himself off with a clear of his throat. “‘M not, an’ if yer lucky later I might take m’socks off to prove it an’all.”

“Not sure if I like the insinuation of there being a later.” You paused for a small amount of time, before adding, “Nor the confidence in how you said it.”

“God loves a trier and so did you, once.”

He eyed you from the corner of his vision, mouth wrapped around the lip of his glass as he knocked back what was left of the alcoholic contents inside.

You were sure he hadn’t meant to let that one slip but there was no way he was going to let his expression give him away and silently confirm with you that thought.

How had the two of you picked up as if you hadn’t missed a beat?

“You never did mind me keeping them on though, did yer?”

That was enough to break his gaze. To cause a silence you didn’t know how to fill. To suddenly make you feel incredibly parched as if you hadn’t been necking gin after gin, all evening.

“How yer getting ‘ome?”

His question cut through it all. His voice of concern, matching his watchful gaze as he looked up at you from the empty glass he had begun twirling on the mahogany wood.

“Was just gonna Uber it back.”

“‘M a fifteen minute walk from ‘ere, d’ya know tha’?”

“I do know that,” you acknowledged, eyes looking over at him and seeing the way his hair had begun to curl close to his temples from the way he perspired in the heat of the pub.

“‘Course you do. Done that walk a fair few times ain’t we?”

You hummed. The feeling of your lips lifting into a soft smile at the memories of the two of you walking hand in hand through the dark London streets. Harry with his head down, trying to look inconspicuous. Also, so he could watch his feet and try his best not to trip up over them.

The times he’d done that thing you loved. Where he would forgo holding your hand and instead walk slightly behind you with his arm wrapped around your shoulder and across the top of your chest. His lips heavy against your hair as he hid his face and chuckled breathily against the shell of your ear when he hadn’t been watching his feet and indeed, tripped. It was always inevitable.

“So wha’s another nigh’?”

And really what was another night? Other than potentially a messy morning.

Not before long you were wrapping the chain handle of your bag across your body and tottering out of the booth you had occupied all night.

Silently you had battled with yourself as to whether you should use the bathroom, but didn’t think you needed it considering how you hadn’t had the rush of pressure usually felt when you were really desperate to relieve yourself.

Shame the feeling didn’t last as you felt a huge gust of cold wind, thanks to London autumn air, washing over you.

With your arms folded around your body as you walked, you tried your best to shield yourself as the lights of passing cars hurt your tired eyes. Harry had been talking to you about all sorts of rubbish, filling in the gaps of dead air that weren’t taken up by the noise around your both.

“My shoes are going to be fucking ruined,” you grumbled, hearing the sound of muddy stones clacking and crunching underneath your heels.

Harry chuckled at your obvious disdain, keeping himself close to you in the dimly lit area. The stride to his walk was confident, a little more power behind it than unsteady. He had consumed drinks, but not enough that he didn’t realise how close both he and you were to his home.

As you walked, your eyes surveyed the area. A group of people were getting closer, a few hoods lifted making it hard for you to figure out their make up.

Before you could give yourself time to think, you unravelled your folded arms and reached down for Harry’s hand.

“Think we could cross here,” you spoke, a chatter to your voice both from the cold and this unusual anxious feeling. Your eyes darted over the road, left and right before you turned as the group approached you.

A boisterous boom of laughter left one of the groups mouth, causing you to sharply look back down the street. The grip of Harry’s hand against yours changed, his fingers taking your traditional hand hold to one of interlocking digits.

He felt moved by the way you appeared to still hold the desire to be protective over him.

“‘M alrigh’,” he pulled you to him, using his hand and causing you to turn your front and press into his side. “Jus’ let ‘em pass us.”

You silently nodded.

“‘S just a couple’a lads walking ‘ome after a night out,” he mumbled. “‘S all it is. You’re alright.”

This feeling felt foreign as you felt a tightness in your chest while you stood still with him in the middle of the street. You hadn’t expected to feel any sort of hesitation but you, like everyone else, had heard about the incident which had taken place with him. Virtually on the doorstep of his own home too.

Harry offering you comfort and reassurance just as quick as you were to do so for him, had you finding a weird source of strength and confidence. He welcomed the pressing of your forehead to his cheek, knowing if he tilted his head slightly his lips could brush so tenderly against your forehead, your temple. He would most likely get a smell of your shampoo, wondering if you still used the same as before.

The grip of his hand loosened against yours, his clammy palm, which felt soothingly warm, ran up against the long sleeve of your top. It curled around your neck, holding you securely to him, before he wrapped his arm around you.

Then he dropped his lips, them pressing to your temple and then lower to your cheekbone. He lingered, his breathing slightly quivered as the noise from the group got louder.

You lifted your head slightly, Harry rearing up just in time to ensure you didn’t headbutt him. His chin was soft as he looked down at you; it took the edge off. His eyes were manic as they moved, there was no mistaking it but everything else about him came off so calm.

He blew out his shaky sigh, causing you to dart your eyes over his and gently push up onto your tiptoes in your heels to softly kiss his lips. You knew he wasn’t expecting it, you didn’t even know what you were doing before you did it. Yet, you relaxed the minute he drew you even closer using the arm he had curled around your upper back to hold you close.

A wolf whistle caused you to smile against his lips, as he did the same. His gentle breathy laugh bouncing against your lips as he chanced it and pressed pecks against your lips in quick succession.

“Evening lads,” Harry nodded his head once he came up for air, making sure he got a good look of two of them and making sure they knew that he had. They cheered in praise at the two of you and your public display, threw out a couple of slightly lewd and alcohol fused comments at the scene. One even going as far as to take the red and white striped scarf from around his neck and whip it furiously above his head. “Someone’s ‘appy. The Arsenal must’ve ‘ad a win.”

You nodded as you eyed them, completely embarrassed by the way you had misread a group of loud football fans for violent thugs. You weren’t necessarily far wrong, but still.

Chattering teeth caused Harry to pull you close to him. “Let's get you in before you catch your death.”

***

Shoes had been left at the door.

The aching balls of your feet grateful for the cool wooden flooring and curling into the luxurious fabric of the rugs currently beneath them.

You’d watched as Harry toed off his obscenely dirty Vans, and walked ahead of you towards the back of the house. The place where his envious lounge and open plan kitchen could be found.

Harry’s home had this way of being welcoming, no matter how long it had been since you had last graced its presence. You assumed he’d made it this way for a reason, especially when that reason was his way of life. Leaving for long periods of time to then return again, to pick right up where he had left off.

And in many ways, that was how you felt about the current situation.

Handbag now discarded at your feet, you sat with your side resting against the back of Harry’s teal velvet couch. Surrounded by expensive scatter cushion after expensive scatter cushion, a collection he had amassed during your time apart.

He was playing the playlist. Not just any playlist, the playlist. The one he would always turn on, volume low, so it was more of a hum than anything else after you’d gotten back from a night on the tiles and fancied a night cap.

You didn’t need to zone in on the sounds. It so happened that you had heard the playlist so many times before that you didn’t need to have it blasting through the speakers to know the track list. It was burned into your brain and would be for a very long time.

The worst thing of all was that he knew. He just knew.

His lips had taken on this quirk. Slightly upturned more so on one side of his face than another as he stood at the kitchen island, feeling your eyes watch him as he put together his perfected cheese on toast supper.

It was an offer you couldn’t refuse. A large glass of Cabernet Sauvignon held loosely in your hand as you whispered along to the song playing in the background, mouth watering at the thought of the carby goodness Harry was preparing for you both under the grill of his oven.

The smell that filled your senses was delightful and exactly what you needed to soak up the alcohol you had previously consumed, never mind the alcohol you were about to.

“Do you want any brown sauce on yours, or ketchup?” You heard him talk louder as the tray he’d been cooking on clattered against his oven hob.

You stayed silent as you watched him, tea towel over his shoulder as he plated up your toast while his mouth barely sang along to the playlist. Gently lifting the bread off the grill before letting it drop quickly from his grip to the plate because of how hot it was.

He looked up at you from under his brow, hair fallen into a middle part around his face. His eyes enjoyed the way your legs had curled up beneath you as you rested your right cheek onto your hand and fondly watched him.

You seemed relaxed to him, albeit amused.

“Don’t even think about laughing at me when ‘m cooking for you.”

You smiled - cheese on toast was hardly cooking - pulling your glass of wine to your lips and taking a sip. “Don’t know why you don’t just get a knife and fork, you numpty.”

“Saves on the washing up doing it this way,” he winced as he dropped another slice to the second plate.

“And makes you lose your fingerprints in the process.

Harry shook his head as he pressed his thumb to his lips and licked the sore burn, before he gently blew against it. “Never did answer my question,” he reminded, wiping his hands on the towel thrown over his shoulder.

“Ketchup’s fine. Ta.”

Watching him reach across for the bottle of Heinz, you saw him squirt the sauce onto your plate and then saw him do the same to his own.

Seemingly happy with his work, he whipped the towel off his shoulder and to the side, before scooping up the two plates and striding over to you with ease.

“Voila,” he spoke, offering you the answer to your predicted hangover prayers, in cheese on toast form.

Reaching forward, you gently took the plate off his hands with both of yours and let your eyes drop down to the melted goodness. Keeping your eyes down you took in the decoration that Harry had added. He’d taken to drawing a smiley face onto the top of the cheese using the ketchup.

“You’re such a silly sod sometimes,” you spoke, lifting your eyes as you watched him drop down onto the couch next to you and get himself comfortable.

Legs up on the coffee table in front of him, almost horizontal with his plate gently resting atop his rounded stomach. Head tipped back and vision lazy, his lips tilted up into a crooked smile as he looked over at you.

“‘S it okay?”

“Looks it,” you replied, lifting up the toast and taking the biggest bite you could muster. Your nose came into contact with some sauce from your hunger-driven vigour. “Proof is in the tasting though, I s’pose,” you continued, mouth full and covered by your hand to avoid him seeing the chewed up contents.

You hummed as you closed your eyes, enjoying the taste of the simplistic home cooked food and melted goodness. So simple in taste, but so effective.

From where Harry lounged, he softly watched you. All relaxed, closed eyes, with a drop of tomato ketchup decorating the end of your nose.

Before you had the chance, and he couldn’t fight himself, Harry reached up to gently swipe at the sauce and remove it from your skin.

You opened your eyes, blinking over at him as he pressed his thumb between his lips and licked away the sauce he had retrieved. His eyes were mischievous as they glanced at you before he took a bite out of his own food and savoured the taste.

The groan that left his throat as he chewed was a sound familiar to you in other capacities, causing you to squeeze your legs together and forcefully take another bite of your own toast.

“Tell you what? If there’s one thing I do, ‘s make a bloody good cheese on toast.”

You smirked, amused by his boasting. “Nothing like a slice of conceited-ness as a platter cleanser, for afters.”

“Summat much more appealing for afters, don’t worry about tha’, darling. Got you sorted.”

***

Bellies full and content, you slipped further down onto Harry’s couch. The two of you finding yourself closer together ask you basked in the warmth of Harry’s home.

“You weren’t lying when you said your nails matched mine,” your voice was sleepy as you spoke, right foot hitting Harry’s left slightly as you brought up your earlier conversation at the pub.

He chuckled into your hair, watching you lift your foot and gently place it atop of his. He made a space for it, moving his right leg so that there was an even bigger gap between his feet to slot yours between.

“I think mine's a bit lighter to be honest,” you continued, eyes scrutinising his painted nails as much as they could from down the length of your body and his.

“That’s some bullshit,” Harry groused, rubbing his feet gently against yours to warm them, his voice causing his chest to vibrate against your head as it rested there “I even had it on m’ hands but I’ve been picking at it. Look.”

Harry obnoxiously held his hand in front of your vision, wiggling his fingers causing you to reach for his fingers and hold his hand still. Sure enough, he was true to his word, presenting you with chipped nail polish that was nothing more than the odd tiny dot against his clean nails.

You smirked when he pushed them slightly closer to your face than intended, “Alright, think you’ve proven your point.”

Hand knocked back he brought it forward again, “‘M not so sure, try again.”

The only response you could muster up was a giggle fit for a schoolgirl, Harry’s response to pull you even closer as he softly smiled.

A silence overtook you both, as you closed your eyes and let yourself become more intune with the music playing around you.

Your face was pressed into the side of his neck able to inhale his worn in aftershave and the soft startings of stubble down the side of his throat.

The silence was heavy and you knew exactly why. Listening to the base of the song across his speakers mixing with your staggered breathing and rising pulse.

You knew you shouldn’t but you couldn’t help yourself. It wasn’t like it needed attention drawn to it. Yet, the words were tumbling off your lips regardless.

“This song always makes me…you know.”

The words were mumbled but of course he caught them because he did know. But it was whether he wanted to go there.

The thought of talking about sex and the sex you had together in a coherent state wasn’t ideal. He wouldn’t have anything to blame his honesty on, if he wasn’t more inebriated than he currently found himself.

“Think we need some more wine for tha’,” he mumbled, lips pressed to your forehead as you hummed in agreement and felt him begin to shift to raise himself from the couch to retrieve a bottle.

***

More wine wasn’t a good idea and you knew it. From the way your tongue was much looser and your lips a lot more numb now.

The two of you had begun to dance on a weird ledge after he’d refilled your glass. The kind where you were openly flirting and backbiting against the other to try and see who could inflict the moment that had the two of you wincing.

“Who caught your eye while I was out of the picture?”

“Who didn’t catch yours?”

Harry was sitting on the couch, side pressed into the back of the couch. Leaning with his elbow and allowing his face to rest in the palm of his hand as he looked at you.

“Alright,” he stressed with a raise to his eyebrows and a quirk to his lips.

You were a bit flustered due to the way your back bite to him revealed how you were actually caught up in his business of seeing other people when you tried to act like you didn’t care.

Clearing his throat Harry adopted a soft tone to break you out of your fluster.

“There was one girl. Took her to dinner two times.”

You held his eyes with yours, watching the way he slowly smirked, “But you already know that don’t ya?”

Before you could stop yourself, you threw the throw cushion sitting to the right of you, at him.

“Watch the wine,” he said around a laugh, as he raised his wine glass into the air and pushed the cushion to the floor before it had a chance of creating him a cleaning catastrophe in the early hours.

“Hate you,” you mumbled, turning to your right to look at him from where you had reached forward to put your wine glass down to the table. Before you sat back you ran your index finger against the rim of your wine glass and tapped your nail gently against the base.

“‘s tha’ why you’re sat eating cheese on toast and drinking wine on my sofa at almost 2am,” he spoke against the rim of his glass, knocking back what was remaining inside.

“I’ve been coerced to be here,” you replied, watching him reach forward, raising his eyebrows at your false suggestion. When he sat back against the couch he was biting back his smile, his eyes shining and crinkles deeply set in the corners.

“Know where the door is,” he goaded, raising his eyebrows again, arm raising to point in the direction of his hallway. He waited for your response and in that time leaned forward towards the coffee table once more, grabbing the wine bottle and topping you up before moving onto refilling his own.

Your eyes dropped down to the rich red liquid as it sloshed against the clear glass. While his words were telling you to leave, his actions were doing the complete opposite.

Filling the silence he asked, “So, how many dinners am I competing with?”

“Three” you mumbled as you lifted your drink and took a sip for courage.

Harry’s head titled as he surveyed you, “Bloody hell you didn’t hang around!”

“I have no more cushions left,” you spoke to his cheeky comment with a light hearted threat of throwing something at him for his brazen clap back. “Only my wine.”

He smiled at your warning to throw it all over him before he drawled, “And we wouldn’t wanna waste tha’”

You hummed in agreement, freely taking yet another sip. Finally, something you agreed on.

Harry kept his eyes on you, waiting. The two of you almost seeing who would cave in first to try and dig for more information on the relations of the other while you were apart. What he really wanted to know was how many men he was competing against. Was it one man three times, or three separate men?

With all the questions buzzing around his head, he knew it would be him who would give in.

He was correct.

“Gonna let me ‘ave a look then? Pull ‘em up on your phone. ‘S only fair. Mine was taken out of my hands.”

His ambiguous comment alluded to the paparazzi pictures of him that had been splashed all over the tabloid online outlets, as well as every other social media platform known to man.

You didn’t hesitate, the alcohol in your bloodstream almost encouraged you as you reached for your bag at your feet and took out your phone. Said liquid confidence even helped in your handing over of the phone. “Pass codes the same,” you said, as Harry stared at you before he dropped his eyes down to the screen and tried the first code that came to his mind, your birthday.

The screen shook at him, causing a sheepish smile to pull up onto his lips as he thought about his second guess. He punched in the code of your mother’s birthday and unlocked the phone within a short five seconds.

You did notice the stall to his movements, clearly realising how part of this was wrong. It wasn’t his, or your, business to know everything in such detail.

Sensing his hesitancy also, you told him where to find a photograph if he was so desperate for a nose; on your private Instagram page. He took that as a small victory cause he knew you still had pictures of him on your profile that hadn’t been taken down.

You gave him names, knowing that it was an invasion of privacy for the men in question but equally not caring. His thumb was fast as it typed and spelt out the name into the search bar. Harry also not caring at how desperate he was to see his competition.

“Hold this for me,” he said, passing over his wine glass so that he could cup your phone in both his hands, his undivided attention firmly on his foe. You looked on as you saw him zoom in on the picture of guy number two, who had the chance of a third date.

He was silent as he looked and swiped and read comments. He didn’t know if this was the type of man he was expecting. Had he even been expecting anyone at all?

Running his eyes over the pictures he was greeted with what he could only describe to be your average City man. All overcoats and expensive suits.

Looks wise, he understood. Perfect five o’clock shadow. Seemed tall enough in photos. Obviously liked a gym session or two. However there was one thing about him that just looked so out of place-

Breaking the silence, he said, “Can’t even do a tie properly can he?”

“Neither can you,” you shot back.

“Don’t have to when you have someone willing to help.”

He looked at you from under his brow to see if you were going to correct him. When he realised you weren’t, he continued, “Never been tempted to fix his,” he asked, swiping across to look at another picture.

“He hasn’t worn a tie on a date yet,” you responded.

Harry zoned in on the use of the word yet.

“What’s he drive?” He asked randomly, continuing the swipe through the pictures with his right thumb.

“Range Rover Sport.”

“Probably on finance,” he spoke his comeback quickly, expressing his true feelings. It wasn’t going to be on finance but no one could blame him on wanting to throw a cheap shot in some way. “Doesn’t really seem the type to be blessed with the big dick energy. Overcompensating somehow.”

You found yourself biting down against your lips, trying to stifle a laugh. His pettiness has reared itself in less than ten minutes and you could see the way it wove through his features, with a quirk to his eyebrows and a scrunch of his nose. He was dismissive and you supposed he had every reason to be, you were after all sat on his couch.

“Why do you really think I’m giving you another try,” you smirked, nails tapping at your glass again.

He held your gaze, “You planning on testing me out, seeing if it still works?”

“Might do,” you took another sip of your drink. “Depends if I have the energy.”

“Why do you think I gave you summat to eat?”

You breathed out a laugh as your mouth fell, right hand reaching up to slap him across the top of his arm. He seemed pleased with himself as he locked your phone and loosely held it out to you.

“‘S enough of looking at tha’,'' he hummed, licking gently at his lips. “How did you meet him?”

Again a breathy laugh left your lips as you stared at him, incredulously. Harry’s eyes easily held yours as he waited on your answer.

“You aren’t in the least bit interested,” you licked your lips, the taste coating them slightly bitter from the lingering wine residue. “Don’t know why you’re trying to make it seem as if you are.”

“Humour me, darling,” he mused, lips softly lifting. “Or humour him, whichever you prefer.”

And you know you shouldn’t be doing this, laughing at the expense of someone else in such a way. You saw the larger swallow from Harry too and you knew he was feeling the same.

However, here you were, giving eyes to a man that you didn’t think would get to see you in such a way again.

“And why would I want to do that?”

“Cause at least one of us would make it worth your while.”

You felt your breathing quicken as you held Harry’s eyes. He did nothing to deter you from holding his gaze.

“You have to stop being so nice,” he added. “If he isn't doing anything for you, that’s okay.”

Reaching forward you rid your hands of your phone, letting it slide against his coffee table. “And do you not think you slightly have an unfair advantage?”

“I think,” he paused, his eyes looking at you. “I think we had something good.”

“Had being the operative word-“

“And I think we could have something good again. In fact I know we could.”

You stalled at his words. The confidence behind them. It was admirable how he was shooting his shot. Especially given you knew how inside he was most likely quaking with nerves.

“Tell him no.”

His words made you chest feel tight, his hand reaching across the distance between the two of you on the sofa. His palm facing up, you slowly lifted your hands to sit in his.

No sooner had your skin come in contact, Harry clasped his hand around yours and softly stroked his thumb to the back of it. He dipped down, lips meeting your knuckles before he tugged at you so softly you almost felt you had imagined it.

He wanted you closer, the arms length distance now too much as he started to show himself to you. His pettiness and his affection, they strangely won you over. Stoked something within you that had you edging further towards him.

Hand unlatching from yours, he lifted his left arm and wrapped it loosely around the back of your neck. With little persuasion you dropped your forehead against his jaw again.

Harry’s swallow was audible as his fingertips softly stroked at your shoulder. His breath softly fanned against the skin of your temple, his lips turning to press the faintest kiss to your hairline.

“Tell him to piss off.”

You chuckled, breathily, head knocking itself back to look up at him. Eyes light with a sense of joyous infatuation at the moment you found yourself in.

Harry shifted, his right hand quickly discarding both your wine glasses before it placed itself against your hot cheek. The coolness of his slender fingers soothing and welcomed.

“Tell him no,” he breathed, as his lips hovered close to yours, as he tilted your face upwards to meet his.

With your eyes closed you felt a sense of guilt, for some unknown reason. It wasn’t like you were committed to anyone outside of the situation that you found yourself in, but you felt slightly wrong for what you were doing. Harry sensed it, able to read the downturn of your lips for what it was. He nudged his nose gently against yours, allowing his eyes to take their time in admiring your expressions and waited on the unnecessary internal conflict to ease.

“Want me to tell him?” He asked, leaving breathy and wet kisses down your cheek, and along your jawline as you tilted your head back. “‘S not a problem.”

Your mind was swimming as you found yourself sinking back into the couch beneath you. Harry’s voice melting you as he continued talking, “Really get him to take the hint that you’re not interested.”

He kept his face buried against the underside of your chin as it pointed up at the ceiling, hands tracing down your arms and cupping at your hands to press them into his hair as he sucked at your skin.

“I know what you’re doing,” you hummed, scratching at the back of his head, enjoying the feel of his soft locks beneath your touch.

Harry deeply groaned as you pulled at the strands, “What’s that?”

“Trying to have your way with me when I’m under the influence,” you joked, quirk to your lips. “Always was that little bit more placid that way.”

You felt the way his lips moved from underneath your chin, finding the corner of your mouth, before he pulled up to look at you. He eyed you, all heavy lidded and messy lips. “You’re not tha’ pissed are ya?”

“No.”

“Then I’m definitely more than jus’ trying.” He reached for your face, lifting your chin and angling it how he wanted. “‘M taking, ‘m begging,” he spoke confidently, unashamed.

His lips were dominant as they engulfed yours, a groan leaving your throat as your kiss was messy from the offset. His lips puckered and pulled, drawing you closer to him as he breathed through his nose and gave you his tongue.

Your chest was heaving as he skimmed his lips against your face, mouth finding the sensitive skin of your neck once more as you bit down on your bottom lip and tried not to laugh.

“Charming of you to want your way with me on your couch.”

Harry chuckled against your neck, face lifting shortly to look at you. His pupils were blown out already, as his skin took on more of a rosy flush from the beginnings of his exertion. That or you’d embarrassed him.

“Sorry, I should’ve asked,” he mused. ”Where’d you want it?”

Legs curled gently around the backs of his thigh, still covered by the denim of his jeans, you pressed against them with the heel of your foot.

“Where’d you think?”

He knew exactly where. You were a simple creature. You liked simple things. Sex was always fun to have all over the house, but depending on the level of intimacy you craved, depended on where you were willing to open your legs.

Tonight was a weird one for you to decide upon. The fumble on the couch, while it was exciting and showed you Harry’s desperation to have you once more, it would be over before you knew it. Also it would most likely leave you with a horrible crick in your neck as your keepsake.

You didn’t want that. You wanted your keepsake to be the ache in your thighs from how he had taken you in different positions because while a bed was boring for some, it allowed you the option to roll around for as long as your bodies permitted. Bending in all different shapes and ways that sometimes neither of you would’ve been able to imagine.

He broke you from your thoughts once more, hand gently finding your bum and tapping against it. “Up yer get,” he spoke, starting to push himself up knowing you wanted to go upstairs.

With your legs curled around his, Harry couldn’t go too far. He chuckled with amusement as he dropped his eyes down to his legs and yours, before looking back up. He didn’t need to even ask as he looked at you, leaning forward he inhaled through his nose as he kissed sweetly at your lips and lifted you.

A smile pulled onto your face, causing difficulty to continue kissing. “Stop tha’,” he mouthed against the corner of your lips, as he hoisted your legs. “‘M trying to take charge here.”

“Why do that when you’re still so good at taking direction?” The lilt to your voice was one of glee, you had easily gotten your own way.

Tousling your hair and flicking it away, behind your shoulders, you rolled your lips into your mouth as you felt the slight bruising from his expressions of desire. He was watching you as you looked at him, doe-eyes sparkling with intrigue and adoration.

“Give us a kiss,” his deep voice ignited a warm fire within, as he still tried to assert himself while he walked the two of you away from his open plan lounge and closer to his kitchen.

You continued to eye him, enjoying the way he wasn’t going to back down. You just needed to stand your ground just as much.

As your bum hit the work surface, your hands traced over Harry’s cheeks, cupping his face before moving to grip at the counter. Head tilted slightly, he looked down the bridge of his nose at you through hooded, dark eyes.

He stepped in between your wide open legs and enjoyed the closeness that they brought when you brought them together to keep him to you. Heavy breathing filled the silent air as you both traced each other's features with touch and sight. Taste could wait, but it would get here soon enough.

He gulped as he swallowed.

“Please.”

At first it was gritty. His voice tight and throat dry. His lips forming the word confidently.

Again he swallowed. “Please, gimme a kiss. You kiss me, like before.”

The victorious hum that left his lips was one that you would let slide, as his hands ran down the length of your arms and reached up to wrap around your own. He placed them back onto his face, mouth breaking away as he left open mouthed kisses to your left palm, nose nudging at the end of your long sleeve top where he inhaled your worn away perfume.

He could feel your pulse as he curled his fingers around your wrist. It was strong and rhythmic, inviting to his primal desire which caused him to gently nip at your flesh with his front teeth.

Turning his eyes back to yours, you silently asked him for another kiss with your soft and slow blinking gaze, knowing he wanted to get just as reacquainted as you did.

He obliged, pressing closer to the counter and letting his lips meet yours quickly. His quick change in motion caused you to reach behind you to steady yourself, your hand coming into contact with an item you couldn’t identify until you gasped and pulled away thanks to the smashing sound.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you whispered quickly, trying to catch your breath. Harry’s eyes turned to take a look at one of the daintier wine glasses he had pulled down from the rack earlier but chose not to use. The item now lay broken against the flooring of his kitchen.

“Really should tidy up before we go up,” he groaned, mouth pressed into the side of your cheek as you surveyed the mess made on his coffee table over the other side of the room. He reluctantly pulled away from you, walking the short distance to the broken glass.

“Watch yourself,” you said, meaning his bare feet around the glass.

Crouching down, Harry started to collate the bigger shards of glass together, stacking them up against the tiles of his kitchen floor. As you peered down, still sitting on his kitchen island, he looked up at you.

“Couldn’t do me a favour? Go an’ grab the dustpan and brush.”

You blinked. Was he alluding that he kept everything in the same place? Given how he’d asked so vaguely, knowing you would understand.

Softly, he smiled up at you and chuckled around his words, “Same place as last time, yes.”

Taking a while to kick into action, you slowly slid off the work surface and let your feet softly pad over to the other side of the kitchen. The third cupboard from the right, on the lower half of the kitchen was where Harry kept items that Anne had brought him. You know, the things that Mum’s knew would be important but somehow never crossed their children’s minds. Regardless of whether their children were grown adults.

Sure enough, there sat the same blue dustpan and brush. The item was as vibrant as the last time you had seen it, in similar fashion. Leaning down you grabbed at it, shutting the cupboard gently using your foot and walked back to Harry.

You handed it off and heard his whispered thanks, as you rested the side of your hip against his cupboards.

“Don’t think I’ve had this out since the last time you so elegantly broke one of my favourite glasses.”

You knew he was messing with you but that didn’t stop the blush of embarrassment, hitting your skin, and filling you with warmth. “I’ll replace it.”

“‘M jokin’, ‘s fine. Only a bit o’ glass-“

His sentence was cut short as the two of you jumped, the sound of a phone filling Harry’s space.

“‘S not mine,” he jutted his lips out, as he pushed himself up from his crouched position and carefully walked towards the bin with his broken glass.

You turned towards the noise that was your phone and how it blared from Harry’s coffee table, where you had placed it earlier. Walking the short distance, you reached for it and was met with a familiar male name.

Biting your bottom lip, you swiped across the phone and pressed it to your ear. His soothing voice greeted you, slightly worried in tone as he breathed a sigh of relief.

Letting your feet take you to the kitchen island again, you responded telling him you were fine and how sorry you were that you hadn’t let him know you had gotten home okay.

From over the other side of the room, you watched as Harry quirked a brow at you while he picked up the empty bottle of wine and wine stained glasses from the coffee table in his lounge.

You weren’t home. You were far from home.

“Who is it?” He mouthed as he got closer, glasses clinking as he placed them onto the work surface of the kitchen island, after discarding the bottle of wine as loudly as possible into the bin.

You pulled the phone away from your ear showing him the name that he had earlier been typing into your Instagram search bar. Under the dim light you could see the slight squint to his eyes and the way his nostrils flared.

He darted his eyes from the phone screen and back to yours, watching as you put the phone back to your ear.

“Yeah I had a great night, ‘m just tired.”

Harry dropped his head, a smirk forming on his lips. You were far from tired and this was nothing more than a moodkill. With his hands pressed to the worktop, he looked up at you as you stood diagonally opposite him.

Eyes glancing down to your left hand that was spread against the work surface, Harry reached for it. The tips of his fingers running gently between the divots of your knuckles, before his hand slipped underneath your fingers and tugged you towards him.

You slowly obliged him, as your eyes moved to his face. “Come to bed,” he mouthed, watching as your top teeth worried at your bottom lip. His right hand moved to slip around to your lower back as you arched, pulling your chest away from his trying to keep his mouth away from the phone.

“Come to bed wi’me,” his voice was a whisper now, not quite loud enough for the person on the other end of the line to hear but a next step up from how he was previously just mouthing his words to you.

As he tried to distract you, he dipped in and out of your conversation which was the most monotonous thing he had ever found himself eavesdropping into.

With your chest open to him, he nosed his way along your skin, head nudging at your hand that held the phone. His lips pulled into a smile as you faked a yawn, clearly trying to politely give the man on the other end a hint that you were done.

Still he heard the drone of this guy, who was now even repeating things he had previously said to try and keep you on the line with him. You weren’t interested though, too preoccupied by the way that Harry was once again pressing kissing to the skin that he could get too.

Before you knew what was happening Harry had clearly had enough.

“We’re tired, pal. Take the hint,” he spoke into the phone that still rested against your ear, his lips finding the bottom end of the receiver. “‘S time for bed.”

You had to pull the handset away from your ear, not wanting to hear his reaction from the sound of Harry's voice. You blindly ended the call, keeping your eyes on your ex-boyfriend, whose green-eyed monster had made itself known.

He helped guide your phone down to his marble countertop and watched as the phone was brought to life with a call. The same name appearing on your screen as he tried to call you back.

Harry didn’t take long to decline the call, quickly turning the phone to silent and placing it face up once he’d finished. Again, it lit to life, this time buzzing against his work surface rather than omitting a jarring noise into the silence the two of you shared.

“‘S a bit creepy in’t it?”

His question lingered as his eyes moved between the phone and you, watching another call ring out. “If he rings again, ‘m gonna answer.”

As expected the phone lit up for the fourth time. However, before Harry could reach for the item you pushed it, causing it to slide against the work surface and away, just enough that it was out of his reach.

Harry clenched his jaw, his muscle pulsing as he looked at you. “‘S he always like tha’?”

“He’s just realised the girl he was dating is in the company of some other bloke.”

“Dating or taken on dates? There’s a difference,” he raised his eyebrows. “‘S a huge difference an’all.”

You stared at him, watching him lower his body to lean against the counter with his elbows and wipe down his face in frustration. Unwarranted at that.

“I don’t like ‘im.”

“Of course you don’t,” you hummed.

Sharply he turned his neck to look at you, “‘s tha’ supposed to mean?”

“That I agree.”

“No,” he frowned. “It was how you said it.”

“I can handle myself.”

“I’m not-“ he cut himself off, sigh heavy. “I’m not saying you can’t.”

He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, thinking of how to navigate his way out of this.

“‘M saying that you don’t always have to,” he dropped his voice, slowly standing and letting his itching hands reach for you.

With his hand resting against your ribs, you stayed still. He didn’t guide you anywhere, he waited. Waited on your next move. When he felt your stoic figure relax underneath his touch, his tight chest expanded. Maybe he could talk himself out of this one.

“When we tried this before,” he softly spoke, pulling his hand away from you to motion between you both, “We shared the load, started to become a team.”

“Yeah and look where that got us.”

He felt his lips twitch from your negative deadpan. “‘S got you back ‘ere again tonight so ‘m doing summat right.”

Shaking your head at him, he rolled his lips into his mouth trying to fight his pleased smile. He dropped his eyes to the counter below him as he mumbled his sorry.

“If you were to ask me, I think we did alrigh’.”

“You would say that.”’

You watched as he jutted out his lips, before running his hand down his mouth and facial hair. He leaned on his palm, his eyes taking you in and wishing you would speak.

“My Mum talks about you all the fucking time,”

“Say tha’ like it’s a bad thing.”

“It is when you’re trying to get over someone,” you glanced at him from the corner of your vision.

“Now why would you want to do that?”

“You didn’t seem to have a problem with it,” you were scornful. He shook his head, clearly amused.

“I’ve still got half of your belongings upstairs, if you wan’ ‘em. You have no idea.”

You squinted your eyes at him. Trying to read him. “Appearances aren’t always what they seem. Don’t know how many more times I’ll have to tell you about papers and social media, ‘s all a load of bollocks.”

Standing once more, Harry rolled his shoulders and brushed his hair off his face. Once his hands were at the back of his head, he linked his fingers and turned to look at you. Head resting back on his hands, the two of you held each other’s eyes. Him from the corner of his vision, you dead on. No words passed between the two of you.

“‘M going to bed,” he sighed, dropping his arms and tapping gently against the kitchen counter twice before pushing away.

His body screamed dejected as he walked away, his shoulders sagged and head down as he walked through his home, towards the second floor and his bedroom.

Swallowing thickly, you rolled your lips into your mouth again before you spoke his name. The way you called for him caused Harry to stop his movement, back continuing to face you as he silently waited for your next move after you voiced your plea.

You let your feet take you to him, abandoning your phone on the kitchen island and trying your hardest to ignore the white hot anxiety that overtook your being.

Close enough to touch now, you looked on at your shaking fingers as they gently reached out for him. Your feet took you as close as they could, arm wrapping gently around his abdomen and feeling it quiver with a nervous exhale.

Lips against the linen of his shirt collar as you pushed onto your tiptoes, hoping that the wine stain upon them wouldn’t attach itself to the cream garment. His head dropped forward, exposing the curvature of his neck to you as his hand gently slid over yours and he rested his fingers between the splayed gaps of your own.

Gentle squeeze. Reassuring reminder.

Take your time.

“Come show me this stuff.”

***

There was always something exhilarating about someone leading you upstairs. The different ways in which it could play out. Playful with a swing to your hands, sensual with a gentle tug to keep your close.

The feel of Harry’s hand in yours was always wanted. Every stroke of his thumb against your knuckles or the back of your hand, a reminder of the affection you had been missing.

His eyes looking over his shoulder at you as he came to the bottom step of the second set of stairs. A silent reminder that you could back out at any time.

The floorboards still creaked in the same place as always and part of you hated that you didn’t need him to lead you down the hallway because you knew exactly where his room was.

However, taking yourself to bed never possessed the same majestic undertone as when someone else did.

You were now sitting with your legs tucked underneath you at the end of his bed, rummaging through the box of things that he had neatly packed together for you so they were ready for you to have back if you ever came to collect them.

Every so often you would pull something out to him, showing it and either sharing a story or laughing. As you looked up at him now, showing a tequila shot glass and shaking it suggestively at him, he looked every inch ready to sleep.

Harry was stretched out straight on his bed, his linen shirt still covering his upper body but the buttons were all undone, revealing his chest and stomach to you. Tattoos on display to your eyes that you hadn’t seen for what felt like forever.

The top button of his jeans had been undone as he got comfortable and his ankles were crossed, with his right leg over his left. His eyes were heavily lidded and blinking slower and slower each time you presented him with a new item.

Double chin forming from the way his head was propped up, he spoke deeply in acknowledgement of the glass with the less than elegant design on the side.

“Remember getting through a whole bottle of tequila with that,” he drawled, hands clasping on top of his stomach. “Don’t know why we didn’t just pass the bottle between the two of us.”

“That’s because someone insisted that if we were gonna do it, we had to do it proper.”

“Haven’t got a clue what you’re talking about.”

“That’s convenient,” you deadpanned knowing that there was probably some truth behind his words given how inebriated you had both been at the time.

Thoughts aside you continued looking into the box to see a worn slogan shirt peering up at you. Pushing aside the half empty bottle of perfume that was once your favourite, you silently admired the tee that you knew didn’t belong to you.

A soft smile pulled itself onto your lips. Sometimes nice boy Harry was unbearable. He’d taken to folding the shirt that you adored as if it were on a shelf in a posh(er) department store than usual. Think more John Lewis than Debenhams.

Slowly you pulled the item from the box and enjoyed the feel of the soft cotton against your fingers. You loved that the shirt’s collar was slightly saggy, a sign of how loved it had been.

Your voice left your throat as more of a dreamy sigh than you imagined. “I loved this shirt,” you spoke as you held it up in front of your face, eyes tracing over the blue slogan of ‘Enjoy health. Eat your honey.” and the cheeky looking bee that was drawn within the circle.

Who didn’t love an innuendo?

Without a second thought, you let the item fall into your lap, hands quickly turning to pull at your black v-neck top and reveal your matching black lace bra underneath.

Harry slapped his hand against his eyes, quickly covering them. The sound caused you to look up at him. “Don’t be so daft, Harry,” you spoke, fighting your smile by rolling your lips into your mouth as you saw him splinter his fingers and look at you through the gap he had created.

“Could give a guy a little warning,” he groaned, continuing to peek over at you.

Shaking your head, you enjoyed the way the cool fabric fell down the skin of your stomach as you covered yourself once more. You knew if you were to turn your head slightly and press your nose to the collar, a mixture of your perfume and his cologne would remain.

You fought the urge however, as you pulled your hair out from underneath the collar and quickly pushed your hand up the back of the shirt to undo your bra.

It was almost second nature for you to remove your underwear to get comfy within your comfier clothes and the sagging of your bra cups away from boobs was always a delightful feeling at the end of any night. Drunk or otherwise.

You pulled at the straps of your bra from underneath the sleeves of your shirt, before diving your hand under the hemline and dropping the item less than gracefully into the box that held your other items.

“Think you’re forgetting who that actually belongs to,” he drawled, head resting against the pillows beneath him now and watching you rummage once more.

“I think you gave up the privilege of wearing this item the minute you dropped it inside this box all neatly folded like you worked a shift at Topshop rather than Manderville’s every Saturday.”

He cackled, head tilted back as he enjoyed your self-righteous indignation and absolute pisstake.

“All Saints was more my thing.”

“That’s because you’re fake indie.”

He was amused as he shook his head over at you with a silent smile. “And being fake indie is exactly why you decided to live on the edge of Camden and not in the thick of Camden itself.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t once tell me that you’d want to raise a family in Hampstead.”

You felt your face heat up at the way he’d completely called your bluff. “That was when I was young and naive.”

“As opposed to us now? Being old and decrepit.”

Again you were silent as you started to put the items around you back into the worn cardboard box.

“Why’re still fuckin’ around wi’that box?”

Your eyes snapped up at him as he kept your eyes. “The only thing you should be fuckin’ around with, is me.”

Raising your eyebrows, you said, “Now who sounds young and naive. Anyway, what happened to you just taking.”

Harry was silent as he took in your words, his body slowly rising from his lounged position and he sat up to approach you. You dropped your gaze down his chest and to his stomach, enjoying the slight rolls of his abdomen as he adopted his new seated position.

His eyes were focused as your gaze found his once more. A soft determination. This sheen to his skin in the lamp lighting of his bedroom, causing him to naturally glow.

Once he was secure in his upright position, closer to you, Harry snatched at the box with one hand and picked it up to sit it down on the floor at his side of the bed.

He then swooped suddenly, hand scooping around your waist and drawing you to him with squealed laughter. His lips fell against your cheek as he shushed you, aiding you as you moved position to get comfortable.

“Remember the first time I had you in this bed?” He asked, chest to chest with you. Your mouth was agape with your quickened breathing, as his lips puckered slightly at the corner of your mouth and he gently leant his nose to yours.

You both watched each other through heavy eyelids, breathing mixed in rising anticipation. A soft nudge of his nose as he asked, “Do yer?”

A nod was all you could muster.

“Was good sex,” he husked, hoodied eyes holding yours. “Was always good sex.”

You hummed in agreement. Feeling the way your nerve endings came alight as you pushed your fingers through the hair at his temple.

Heat flowed through your body, circling in your stomach as his words echoed.

“Still gonna be good sex, ‘f you’ll let me. Better even.”

The faintest smile pulled at your lips, causing your eyes to glisten.

“Eh,” he nudged. “You gonna let me, or tell me otherwise?”

“Personally, think you’re just talking a good game.”

“You know ‘m fucking not.”

Harry pulled you to him, his mouth claiming yours easily. So hungry and intense. Lips that were desperate to show you what you had been missing. Lips that were desperate to wipe away the touch of another, asking you what the fuck you were even thinking in trying it with some other bloke?

Gone was the brushing of lips, faint and fleeting. Harry’s liquid confidence started to come into play as his lips formed into a smile when he gave you his tongue and hummed as he did.

Harry cupped your face as he slanted his mouth over yours, soft moans leaving your throat as you kept him close.

Lips were coaxing, as he groaned between quiet wet smacking sounds that otherwise would have had you cringing.

Now he had you however, how could he part? Your smell was intoxicating to him, as was the touch of your fingers in his hair and nails gently scratching at his scalp. His mewls were catlike when he pressed his wet lips to your skin.

Breathing now more like a pant, it puffed against your elongated neck as he pulled away and made a beeline for your clavicle and then chest, movements slower. Chestnut hair tickled the underside of your chin and caused the faintest of smiles to ghost across your lips from the way it felt.

His nose nudged the collar of his shirt that sat against your body enticingly. The smell of your perfume everywhere to him.

Now lower down you found his forehead was pressed to your clavicle as you felt his teeth playfully tug the cotton between them. A puff of air left your nose as you bit down onto your bottom lip to try and suppressed your giggle.

“Smells like us,” he hummed, mouth breathing hot and heavy against the shirt that sat directly above your nipples. “‘S tha’ good.”

Your only response was the tipping back of your head, fingers carding heavily through the hair at the nape of his neck.

Had he always been this skilful? Vocal, sure. But it never quite hit you like it was doing tonight. His deep hums and moans, his hands spreading so confidently across your back to hold you to him.

And when you cradled the back of his head and pressed that was when you found yourself moaning his name deep from the back of your throat as his mouth gently sucked at your hardened nipples through his beloved shirt.

His name left your lips again, this time in the softest gasp as a small frown hit your eyebrows and your hips started to faintly roll atop his. He moaned gratefully into your chest, his tongue wetting the fabric of his shirt so it clung to your raised nipple.

As he nosed along the cotton, he found your second nipple, his hand quick to raise to the first and squeeze at your breast that had not been forgotten. His touch wanted - you and it - to know that.

This is what you’d been missing so long. A sense of feeling you had buried somewhere else. Blocking out the way he managed to make you feel more alive than anyone else had.

With cheeks hollowed as he suckled, you whispered, “That’s nice.”

His hum of agreement vibrated through your chest as he kept his face pressed against you.

Everything about him became deliberate and slow, his hands now moving underneath your shirt and fingertips gently grazing at soft, warm skin prickling goosebumps in their wake.

Sliding lower his left hand palmed against the back pocket of your jeans, fingers catching against the thick and sewed seams. Hand pressed heavy to aid the soft rock to your hips, tapping lightly to the top of your bum.

“‘M gonna take these off,” he hummed, looking up at you from where his face was still pressed into your chest.

“Are you?”

It felt as if the room spun before you could even comprehend what was happening, a squealed laugh leaving your lips next as your arms tightened around Harry’s shoulders. He lightly lifted and rolled you, your back landing against his mattress gently as your laughter tapered off.

His lips were sponging kisses to your jawline and cheeks, as you felt the backs of his fingers slide gingerly against the exposed skin of your stomach. Slowly you felt the fabric pull away and fall slack against your stomach when he managed to twist the button with one hand, as your arms fell against the mattress and into the pillows that were slightly pressed higher against the headboard.

“Took you long enough,” you goaded, a smirk lacing your lips as you felt Harry pull away and watched him kneel sitting back with his feet against his bum.

His face was a picture, clearly amused, as he swiftly pulled his own shirt away and threw it behind him. Hands slowly trailed back up to the waistband of your jeans as he lightly hovered over you.

His head found your stomach, the soft skin on show from where the tee had ridden up. Soft puckered kiss, he lifted his head and pressed his chin into your stomach.

“Last chance,” he voiced, soft. While he wasn’t willing to forget about it all, regardless of the ache he had between his own legs, you had to be in this with him as much as he was.

Blinking down at him, you moved your hand up to gently push through his hair and without words raised your hips off the bed enough for him to get the message.

The smile that pulled at his lips, was so triumphant you had to knock your head back to stop yourself from chastising him for being full of himself.

Your hands however couldn’t help themselves as they joined Harry while he pulled your trousers down your legs and watched goosebumps rise upon your skin from their exposure to the cold.

Now he was at the end of the bed, you dropped your head to the side to look at him. The way he looked as he carelessly threw your item of clothing over to the chair that sat in the corner of his room.

His eyes slowly came back to you, as he followed his own motion and saw the faintest of smiles dance across your features.

“What yer thinking?”

You were thinking a lot of things. Mainly more so how mystical he looked in the soft glow of the London evening that was creeping in through the haphazard way he had drawn his curtains. Your smile only deepend at how it was more so from the street lamp lights than any full moon, but he didn’t have to know that.

Of course he would want to though, because your smile was more so on show now thanks to the thought in your mind.

Harry shook his head as he fought his own smile, dropping his face slightly to watch his hands as he fiddled with his own jeans.

“Whatever’s got you smiling, ‘s doing nothing for my ego as ‘m undressing m’self in front of yer.”

You knew he wouldn’t be able to help himself, which is why you lightly laughed.

He spoke your name in a pretend warning.

“‘S doin’ everythin’ for you,” you spoke sultry, “Don’t even try it. Got a girl half naked and waiting for you.”

At those words he looked up at you, through his curtains of thick waves that had fallen into his line of vision.

You breathed deeply, eyes unable to move from his captivating stare even though you knew he was practically naked from the waist down. You knew from the way his upper body moved as he pushed down his jeans; you knew from the sound of the clothes bunching around his ankles.

Now you found yourself wondering again. Wondering if he still kept his condoms where he had done last time. Sometimes in the bedside table drawer, other times hidden in the top of his wardrobe.

Were you going to see him twist and turn, get him showing you how white his bum cheeks were in comparison to his infuriatingly evenly tanned thighs and legs? Or was he going to hold your eyes, dip his knee into the bottom of his bed and crawl up you once more so he could grab one from the bedside table.

“Not just any girl,” he finally replied, his knee dipping into the bottom of the bed. You supposed that answered your question.

“No?”

A small shake of his head.

“The girl.”

Harry chuckled, giving himself away as he watched the way you relaxed deeper into the mattress as he found your legs easy to accommodate him.

“I’ve never been the anything,” you emphasised.

With his lips against your cheek, you felt his puffed breath as he responded, “Yea, you fuckin’ have.”

You kept him to you with a hand against the back of his head, fingers woven through his hand unable to not enjoy the feel of his silky locks beneath your touch. Reacquainting yourself with everything that you thought you had lost.

His lips unlatched from yours with a soft, wet sound as your eyes rolled back into your head when he started to trail kisses down your cheek, down your neck once more.

There was no mistaking how greedy they were, his chin knocking yours and his teeth scraping against your skin as he held your jaw with a steady hand in hope of keeping you still beneath him.

Legs moved from where they were open, softly brushing at his sides so your calves wrapped and touched the back of his thighs. The feel of his hairs against your smooth legs becoming a weirdly exhilarating reminder of your closeness once more.

Head buried in your chest, you felt him locate the wet patch against the cotton from his previous play and quickly enclose his mouth once more. Warm hands pushed beneath your body and the mattress, sliding underneath and raising your chest further to his face.

Your mouth fell open as you felt the pressure of his lips and tongue, enclosed around your nipple again, grow stronger. With a hand in his hair once more, you wondered if he was going to take you out of this shirt, or fuck you in it.

As the pressure lessened, with your head pressed into the bed beneath you, you heard the rustling of his nose and face against the shirt. He rubbed his face against you, inhaling and moving his hands closer to your lower back.

Hands in contact with your underwear, you felt him smooth over the fabric of your bum. He pulled at your thigh, before pushing at your knees with a gentle but assured touch.

“If I remember correctly,” he started, voice muffled as his face was still pressed to your breast. “This leg needs to go here, like this. Mm?”

Clammy hand splayed against your thigh, you felt him direct your other leg, “And this one needs to be a bit lower, otherwise you get cramp.”

There was a pause, and you could feel the way his lips were twitching atop the cotton of the tee. Matching yours at the flippant comment that was only funny because it was true.

Humming again, he added, “Keep ‘em like this. Keep me here like this.”

Doing what he asked, you bit back a moan when he moved to fit his palm over you through your underwear. The warmth from it radiating through you, making your throb and giving you the urge to fold your legs in on it.

Tentative strokes were what you received, at first. Up and down, coaxing you and drawing you into him. Then his fingers became more confident, certain in their touch, moving with a sense of familiarity you had been missing.

“‘S this okay?”

His voice was soft, hard to hear over your breathing and the blood starting to rush around your ears. You found yourself nodding, however. Giving him the permission he desired, making his next movement the easiest.

His fingers hooked, slipped underneath the thin piece of fabric and the quiet groan that left his lips only had you moving your legs that bit higher.

“‘S it nice.”

Harry was enticing. From his oozing velvety voice to his careful, barely there touch. You were lost to him. Finding it hard to breath as your body begged for you to be actually - really - touched.

With a heavy swallow, you felt your eyes fall shut with your slow, deep breath and let your head turn to the side, finding the edge of a propped up pillow to shield your torture expression.

“Don’t hide from me,” his voice lazily made itself known, as he looked up from under his brow at you and caused your eyes to drop as you looked down your body. He descended lower and lower, hands pushing up at his tee against your stomach, to reveal your bare skin to him.

Spongy kisses, encased by stubble, pressed into your skin. His fingers never once let up in their tease, touch opening you up for him. The soft twitch of your legs when his fingers landed on your clit, sliding over it.

“Relax for me,” he hummed. “You good… s’it feel good?”

Confident nod, you swallowed again. Tongue pushing between your lips to lick away the dryness.

“Okay wi’this?”

Another nod.

The press of his fingers onto your clit caused you to breathe deeply. A hiss of ‘yes’ as you exhaled.

“Tell me if it’s changed.”

And you knew what he meant. His desire to know if you still liked things the same as before important to him.

You couldn’t help the low and long moan that left your throat. Neither could you stop the lift of your hips from the bed as you twisted your body as he stroked at your clit.

Heavenly ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ were pulled from you. Encased by ‘yeses’ of various pitches. Harry’s nose was buried into the skin of your ribs, having managed to push the tee you still wore to underneath your boobs and in the process expose more of your skin to him.

His mouth sucked against your skin on the inside of your left boob, just at the underside, and from the groan he omitted you knew you were going to be left with an almighty love bite.

“Oh,” you sighed, as you felt his tongue lave at the mark, again nudging upwards and taking the shirt with him. Tongue over your exposed nipple, alert from the cold and due to your aroused state.

Your lower half was warm, fire stoked while he stroked at your clit. A sharply exhaled ‘fuck’ from you had him smiling around your nipple. The last time you had found yourself getting this wet - soaked and slick, the kind that meant your walls were smooth and would pull him right in - had been with him.

A laugh left you from underneath your breath, one not noticed by Harry who was too lost in the feel of you beneath him. The thought of anyone being able to get you this way from an act so virginal was unknown. Of course, he was the exception. Of course.

“Hear tha’?”

So lazy he couldn’t even ask you properly.

“Nice an’ wet.”

The slip of his fingers moving lower had you humming delightfully, legs falling open a bit more as his fingers danced at your entrance. The contrast of the heel of his palm to your clit was welcomed, warm but dry in comparison to heavily wet fingers.

You could feel yourself pulsing as his palm gently rubbed you again, nervous energy had you teetering. Fingers at your center. You wanted them, you wanted him in anyway he would give you himself.

Quiet, apart from staggered breathing, he smiled to himself when he felt your walls give way to him and his two fingers with ease. Your moan was voracious, a clear need apparent as the edges of it died against your dry throat.

He knew it was his name. He had heard it like that before. Plenty of times. Said in the same tone too. Sprinkled with incoherent desire.

“‘S that want you wanted?” He found himself asking. “Should’a just said.”

And you would’ve if you could. But instead your head was tossed back and your toes were curling into the sheets.

These were the moments he has missed. When he really thought about your time apart. The moments where the two of you were so lost in each other that the nonsense that slipped from each of your lips was met with no judgement but rather embraced.

Reacquainting after time apart. Rekindling your desires and unspoken love for one another.

Eyes on your face, he couldn’t quite see you how he would’ve liked but he did nothing to change it. His own want went out of the window in favour of you getting and keeping yours.

The smell of you was everywhere as he dropped his eyes and pushed his face against your boobs once more. A man quite willing to suffocate in his need to want more.

He could feel your falling apart under his experienced touch, relentless and unfleeting now. His fingers curled and with each ‘come hither’ your breathy moans only drove him on.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell,” he spoke through gritted teeth, the tension in his arm burning at his wrist. Mutters of desperate mantras - ‘come on, come on’ - mouthed to your skin.

And you could - like this - you could. But did you want to?

While you were feverishly hot, everywhere, for him - body unable to stop rolling with each pull of his fingers - your head knocked back and softly shook from side to side.

“No,” you moaned lightly, “Not yet… Harry.”

“No?”

His questioning had you dropping your eyes, head still lolled to the side with pouted expression.

Mind still slightly hazy, you stared at him. He was still in his underwear, very obviously hard. Head nudging slightly, you breathed, “Come here.”

Empty. That’s how you felt when he slowly moved his fingers and left you clenching around nothing but the cold air of his bedroom.

His right hand was against your skin, middle and third finger slightly hovering away as they were coated in you and he selfishly didn’t want to lose that to your flesh but rather his tongue.

Legs welcomed him, smoothing around the backs of his thighs once before lifting and using your feet to try to push his underwear down.

Harry let out a noise you hadn’t heard in a while, a mix between a grunt and chuckle. The kind that created an aggravated fire within you.

“‘S not gonna work,” he mumbled, eyes closing as he felt the warmth of you against his clothes bulge. Your one thigh lifting to encourage him to roll onto his back.

And he did, taking him with you. A mess of awkward limbs tangling. With shaky knees you climbed over him, eyes down and taking in his underwear.

A pair of black briefs fit him just right, hugged him and holding his straining cock.

Your eyes slowly rose up his body, his chest lifting and falling with heavy breathing as his chin softened while he looked down at you with his fingers just about leaving his mouth from where he’d cleaned your arousal off of them.

You felt his eyes peering at you as you lowered down, nose first teasing against the waistband of his underwear before you found your lips pressed kisses to the tops of his thighs. Enjoying a little bit too much the feel of his leg hair against your nose and lips.

Hand lifted, it blindly sought out the waistline of his pants and allowed fingers to slip inside to pull down the material.

Just about past his thighs, you locked eyes with Harry. His soft blinking gaze and content smile had you grinning impishly, knowing in the faintly lit room he would most likely be able to make out the blush upon your skin.

You’d saw but more arousingly heard his cock move as the briefs which encased it gave way and it fell back, heavy, against Harry’s lower abdomen. And that was where it lay, next to the hair in Harry’s stomach and down to his pubic region.

Small crawl to get you better situated, you flipped some of your hair over to your opposite shoulder and felt him touch the back of your head with a barely there graze as you licked up the underside of his cock.

“Shit, darling,” he breathed, voice blissful above you but filled with a rawness only brought on by sexual vulnerability.

Looking up his body, you could see the grin that had made its way to his lips. His teeth quick to bite it away, with little to no avail.

You licked again, mouth moving lower to delicately suck one of his balls into your mouth.

The groan that left him was husky, right from the back of his throat. The kind that gave you shivers from how unguarded it was. His legs widened against the bed, your eyes diverted to his thighs from his movement. How thick they looked as they flattened beneath you on his bed.

Wrapping your hand around him, you ran your thumb over the head of his cock. Up and down. Slowly taking in every movement and what it did to him. Just like you remembered.

“‘S this right?” You asked, hand and mouth working him and his balls over. Looking up once more you watched him hum, with the smallest of nods. His lips were rolled into his mouth, dimples prominent as they dipped into his cheeks.

His nostrils flared as he breathed and his hair had started to fall across his forehead from how he’d been dipping his head back into the pillows beneath him.

“Squeeze me ‘ere,” he reminded you, voice holding a slight tremble, his hand encasing yours and encouraging a tighter hold as he leisurely dragged both his and your hand up and down his cock. “Slowly- tha’s it.”

You pulsed between your thighs as you watched him moving your hand with his, each downward pull showing his glistening head more and more. Heavy swallow, you knew he was holding back and you would be lying if you said the visual wasn’t encouraging you to take him in your mouth properly.

Almost like second nature you did exactly that. Licking at your lips as you lifted up and wrapped your lips around his exposed tip. When his hand faltered from the pleased sound you voiced now you were on him, you were able to slip from under his grip and felt him continue to wank as you suckled so teasingly.

With each bob of your head, you felt his hand pull away more, as your mouth and jaw stretched around his hard cock.

“Yea’,” he groused, deeply when his hand fell to give way to your mouth and move to shift your curtaining hair. Harry rolled his hips up gently, eager to get the last bit of him down your throat. Old him would’ve voiced it too, but he felt this moment didn’t call for that.

He softly fucked your face, if there were such a thing. The nudges of his cock warming through your core as the throbbing sensation that had been lingering between your legs only grew.

Harry fought against himself to make you gag, teetering on it with each raise of his hips as his glassy eyes barely focused on you. Too engrossed in the filth he wished to voice.

“God, look at you,” he dropped his head back. Ironic really. Unable to continue looking as he said it. It was tame in comparison to how he wanted to speak.

So, he laughed. Breathy at first, before becoming a little bit louder. You lips twitching into a smile as you lifted off of him and gently tugged before letting it fall and bounce proudly erect. Kissing up his stomach and placing your knees either side of his hips.

He had almost forgotten you weren’t completely naked until you sat on top of him covered up. Eyes too taken by your face to care, as you blinked down at him with a doe-eyed expression that made him want to lap you up in any way he could have you.

His right hand pulled you down to him, lips greedy against yours as his left hand found the top of your bum cheek, trying to blindly find his cock and guide him into you regardless of knowing it wouldn’t work.

“Like this?” He asked as his lips hovered at the corner of yours, wanting to know if you wanted it this way. “How’d you wan’ it?”

“On top.”

“Me?”

Your voices were breathy as you spoke around the faintest of kisses. Both eager to start from the feel of you both so close to each other.

The faintest of nods was given to him and it was all it took for him to roll the both of you, further continuing to ruckle up the bedsheet beneath you.

“Do I need one?”

And you knew you should be responsible and not shake your head no at his ambiguous mention of protection. All rushed and breathy, chest heavy as he exhaled in a nervous rush, but you just wanted him. Bare and in you.

Underwear was quickly removed before you’re resumed your position.

He watched you softly as you shook your head no, Harry pushing the shirt up under your boobs, your arms wrapping around his neck as he continued to kiss at your jaw and cheeks.

“Planning on staying over?”

Feeling him shift up and jar his head back, just enough to get a good look at you, you stared at him not knowing how to respond. It was practically morning now, so hadn’t you already?

His hands moved your legs as you thought, his one holding you where he needed you to be.

“Don’t think ‘bout it for too long, darling,” he joked nudging his nose gently against you as he watched the way your lips went against you, smiling at his words.

“Let me know how long we can go for,” he added, gently taking his cock that was sprung and bobbing between you into his hand. He looked down and tapped it to your wetness, sliding it down with a press of his fingers to the topside of his shiny cock to line himself up.

“Gonna let me have you all night.”

Your breathing picked up, chest trembling slightly at how much more of a statement those words sounded than a question. An amorous glance looked back at him, slow blinking and head lolled gently to the side.

“Eh? Sleep in the mornin’?”

A deep and shaky breath had your mouth falling, your eyes slowly shutting as you felt him push in. You were right when you thought about how easily you would take him earlier. Body crying out for a good fuck.

“Fuck me,” he groaned deeply, head dropping forward and hair hanging down. You reached for him, wanting to see his face.

Harry obliged you, his face turning to find your wrist and pressing a chaste kiss to your skin. “Missed havin’ you like this,” he breathed. Quick bite down to his bottom lips, nostrils flared.

“‘S tight.”

He knew the remark was boyish. Unable to stop himself as he eased out and rolled his hips back into yours. Each push and pull giving you a little more of him. Deep frown etched between his eyebrows as his breath caught in his throat, mouth slightly fallen and lips starting to dry.

“Haven’t-“ your voice croaked, head dipping into the pillow beneath you.

Haven’t slept with anyone in a while. Haven’t slept with anyone since you last slept with him. Haven’t had the desire to.

He hummed in agreement as the two of you felt the words fall away from you both. Harry’s concentration firmly on each roll of his hips as he gave you more of him. The rhythm he set being one that you could only describe as intimate. Familiar.

He was warm on top of you as he alternated between grinding dips of his hips, thrusts that were tantalisingly slow, making your hips roll up to meet him and causing him to smile at how you wanted it.

He had to voice it. “You want it, don’t you?”

He only knew so easily because he did too. He had done the minute he fucked the whole thing up and let you slip away with his dwindling text messages in response and shorter phone calls every time you had a chance.

Your hand glided to the back of his head, the other down to his bum as you encouraged him to give you his entire weight. He was close but you want him closer. Close was never close enough.

Was that enough to answer his question of wanting it, wanting him?

Squeezing at his bum, you fought the urge you had to give him a slap, too caught up into the heavy groan that moulded into your face as he pressed his nose to your skin.

“You make me good,” he lowly gruffed against your cheek, his hand trailing down to take yours from his bum.

Fingers laced and pressed against the mattress upon which you lay, you tilted your head back and pressed it harder into the pillow beneath you. You keened and mewled beneath him, breathy noises of indecipherable words as the head of his cock bumps your spot inside.

“You make me feel good.”

You were taken by his gasp, how desperate he sounded as he hiked your leg higher, wanting you to spread yourself open for him. His hips don’t give you much choice other than to play along as he moved with an assiduity you had never found with any other man.

He allowed you to feel every inch of him going in, pulling out and going back in. Teasing himself and you with a slow and measured pace that had you passionately panting underneath him.

“No one gets it like this.”

Looking at him with heavy-lidded vision, you wove your fingers through his hair and tugged. His face contorted blissfully, breath catching in his throat before it heaved out of his mouth as his chest forced him to exhale.

You were nodding, agreeing with him. No one had you like this. Him like this. It like this. Sweltering and sticky.

Teeth gritted, he grunted as he thrusts grew heavier now with more conviction behind their motion.

“Deeper,” you gasped, “Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

His pelvis was heavy against yours now, making it difficult for you to lift and roll your hips to meet his thrusts. And he knew you loved it like this, he still knew that.

Legs practically pushed to your chest, held there by your own fruition as they rocked and rubbed up against his fleshy sides cradling him to you, feet bobbing in the air with toes curled.

The sensual roll he was giving you caused the grip of your fingers to go slack against his head. You could feel him smiling against your skin, as your breath hitched in your throat and your hand squeezed at his.

“Touch my arse,” he moaned, sliding his hand out of yours and breathing in quick succession until your hand met his bum cheek once more.

This time you didn’t falter, gently tapping and feeling the tension to his thrusts as he clenched. Quick squeeze and nails digging in creating crescent moons against his white bits. “Yeah darlin’, know I like it like tha’.”

Head turned to the side, you messily brought your mouths together. He chuckled as you broke away, probably from the words he’d just spoken. Laughter dying down into a hum as your feet wrapped around his lower back.

His lips were dry as they met yours, too caught up in how his mouth hung open, to make them wet and inviting, as his need to breathe was evident.

“No ones like you,” you admitted. “No one comes close.”

He revelled in the whine of your last word, how it had your back arching and allowed him to wind his hand around you to lift your bum slightly to encourage your hips to continue meeting his.

He knew you were tired, the breathy whines that were spoken up towards the ceiling were not lost on him. And he knew he had to keep going, to give it to you how you deserved. To make up for the lost time, to say sorry for ‘being a bit of a dick’. A lot of a dick.

When you knocked your head back, your eyes were unable to concentrate and he was mesmerised by the visual of complete, unadulterated lust that was present on your features. Hair sticking to your temples from your exertion and face void of any concern.

“Make me come,” you whispered your plea, feeling him bury his face into your neck and drop himself down flush to you. With one hand woven through the hair on the back of his head, your other stayed at him bum feeling the grind of his groin against yours as he lay on you.

He was sensual now, if not a little tired himself, as his breathing left his mouth in hot pants against the side of your neck. You could feel yourself beginning to flush from the heaviness of his body as you both rocked from the force of his motions and the fullness of him above you.

With rustling sheets and sounds of grunts, your cooed ‘oh’ left you, as you felt the motion of Harry’s hips pickup pace. Your fingers clawed into his hair, lifting the strands and softly pulling as your body ached in the most delectable way.

Harry groaned around a smile, muffled by your skin as he could feel his stomach start to tighten; his orgasm impending. He tried to hold off as much as he could, eager to watch you come undone first in the best way he could as he was rendered speechless and breathless alongside it.

Instead you were both a mess of tangled limbs, with rocking motions so vigorous that you felt yourself moving up the bed. A symphony of noises - slapping skin, feeble grunts and creaking bed.

Harry wheezed, knowing he sounded pathetic by too caught up to care. Through hooded eyes you caught sight of his mouth falling agape before he ground his teeth together as his thrusts heavily rolled into you, nudging your entire body.

Your mouth fell as his name unashamedly fell from your lips. Demandingly, but in a juxtaposed whisper, you told him to give it to you.

“I am,” he whispered. “Oh, I am, darling- Mmhm.“

You whimpered, feeling each breath get harder to produce as your abdomen began to tighten and your chest heave. “I’m coming,” you hastily whispered. Voice nothing more than a pant.

Looking up at Harry, you watched his bottom lip become captive to his teeth, as his nostrils flared while he breathed. His thrusts were at their heaviest now, wetter and sloppier but getting the job done.

“Gonna- oh.”

This was the loudest you’d been in a while. Moans long and dying off into wordless bliss as your muscles tensed and your orgasm rolled through you. Leaving you as nothing more than cloudy thoughts, and a warm, floaty body.

You felt the bounce of his laugh against his skin from his breath, as he continued to move above you and moulded you into nothing but a high-pitched mess as he wouldn’t stop.

Body falling slightly slack, relaxed and pliant to the bed, you felt Harry move his face into your neck and nudge his hips once more. His ruts were less rhythmic, rough grunts and indecipherable slurring only matching his pending euphoria.

With his final, heavily thrust, his hips slammed to a stop against yours. Your breathing stuttered as you held him to you, hands moving over his shuddering shoulders and ears listening to his muffled groans which vibrated through you.

“Yea’,” he drawled. Low from the back of his throat. “Yes.”

***

Sunday mornings were made to be slow. To bask in the stillness. To hear nothing but the blood that was rushing through your ears.

It was far too bright to be considered early morning. Not with the winter months looming.

You stretched your limbs, listening for the crack of your back as your hands reached for the t-shirt that was still awkwardly bunched up to your armpits.

Rolling your body slightly you reached for the hem and pulled it down, letting your head fall to the side to see an empty bed which allowed a sense of regret to creep into your morning thoughts. Blinking slowly, you almost missed the sound of the bedroom door gently bouncing against the wall.

A hushed, “bollocks” spat out for the other side of the wood causing your lips to twitch upwards in a smile.

A pause came to Harry’s movements as he caught your eye in nothing more than a pair of fresh underwear and mismatched mugs in each hand.

“Stayed the night,” he hummed, eyes softly shining. A soft smile pulled onto your lips as he left a cup of tea closer to your side of the bed and you watched him start to blow gently at the lip of his own mug. With his mouth about to take a sip, he asked, “Fancy staying another?”

#harry styles #harry styles smut #rekindled fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry fic #Harry x reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you

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imagine-straykids · 3 years

Text

Stray Kids SS: Argument PT. 1

SS for short scenarios. Stray Kids arguing with their significant others

requested? No. I just write whenever I feel like it.

genre: fluff, angst, romance, etc etc.

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Bang Chan

You’re no bragger but you think you’re pretty reasonable most of the times. You understand your boyfriend is a busy person and his work came first and foremost. You’ve tried not to take it personally and he has made it pretty clear before you guys even got into this relationship that he wouldn’t be the best person with time management.

Of course you took a gamble and compromised to form this bond with the one and only Christopher Bang. You had always put his feelings first whether that’s him choosing his friends, work, or music over you, you were definitely okay with that as long as he came back to you at the end of the day. Even the smallest texts nearing the end of the night like “Goodnight sweetie, hope you had a good day!” was enough for you. You weren’t asking for much. You don’t know how much lower you can set your standards because slowly and progressively, Chan was already failing to meet them.

The most you guys have ever been apart was maybe two weeks and even then, Chan had always made sure to check on you through texts or phone calls. So when it was nearing a month, and he has rejected your invitation to do something for the second time in a month, you were left to feel less than pleasant whether you had set yourself up for failure or perhaps did you deserve more than what you had settled for.

You couldn’t help but to be upset to some degree and even then you still doubted if your feelings were valid. You even felt guilty since you had promised him a long time ago you would be understanding. Were you wrong for just wanting a little bit of your boyfriend’s attention?

So when Felix brought you his breakfast treats like he would every Sunday because the boy loves baking, he could tell in your eyes that your world was seeing more than blue. You weren’t your usual self who was always welcoming and greeted him with warmth. The tone in your voice and your body language imitated that of a walking dead and although you tried your hardest to put on a great appearance, Felix could see right through you.

When he had asked you if you were alright, a sea of tears just came bursting through. Like a puddle that you had held inside for weeks finally being freed. You told Felix everything and everything. It was nice to have someone to talk to, for once in a long time. Felix had always been very understanding of you and was very much like a brother. He reassured you and you felt so much better after, that when he left, you even thought you might finally be able to get a good nap after some words of comforts.

Your nap was shortly disrupted when a series of loud knocks were ringing through your door. It took you a few seconds to process everything because your brain was still trying to wake up along with you. Then a beep from your phone was heard. You turned to the left side where you had placed your phone and noticed long notifications of texts and missed calls from Chan. Oh lord. Well of course who could that be at the door then.

Felix had only told Chan out of good intention, and honestly you weren’t even surprised. Not one thing said to one of those boys will stay in its origin. You crankily tossed your blanket aside and walked up to the door as you took a deep breath. You opened the door and it was just the one person you were expecting.

Chan looked totally out of breath, as if he had been beaten by a stick over and over again, you can see the sweats tracing along the line of his forehead down to his cheeks and his hair has gotten messier than usual.

“Chan--” You were cut when Chan just shoved himself inside your apartment.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” He looked at you dead in the eyes as he shut the front door.

“Tell you what?” You weren’t acting naive but you just wanted to know what exactly Felix had told him.

“What you told Felix. Why didn’t you tell me that? That you wanted to hang out with me, that you’ve been feeling sad and lonely?”

“I did. I asked you twice if you wanted to go out or do something. You said no both times.” You defended yourself.

“Why didn’t you say anything when you were not feeling good then?” A worrisome look overshadowed his angrier look earlier.

“Pfft,” you scoffed. You couldn’t believe what he was saying. “Really Chan? Do I need to feel less than okay, do I need to question if my boyfriend even wants to be with me, for you to actually worry now?” you challenged him full on.

“What do you mean.” Chan wasn’t gullible, but sometimes when he gets too caught up on one thing, he misses another.

“Why should it be my responsibility that you act like a reasonable boyfriend who cares about his girlfriend’s needs. I shouldn’t need to tell you when you should be doing your parts. You were on the line of almost ignoring me for a whole month, doing whatever you’re doing without caring for my well being, and the two times I ask to do something, I get pushed aside. And you’re here telling me I’m not trying harder?”

“I already told you from the beginning, y/n, that I am not the best person to be in a relationship with. I lose track of times, get lost in my own thoughts. I apologize if I made you feel like I didn’t care about you. I do. Sometimes I just need time to myself, you know. And I try to do it without hurting your feelings but it’s hard. Because I care about you too.”

“I know that you’ve warned me from the beginning. And I’m a fool. I can’t do it anymore, Chan. I’m not the girlfriend you want me to be. I thought I could do it because I love you so much... but it hurts to be away from you. I can’t do it, Chan. Sometimes I just miss you, and want to be with you, but I’m afraid I’m going to bother you because you’ve already set your boundaries. I’m sorry.” you started sobbing even thought you told yourself you weren’t going to cry.

Chan quickly pulled you into a hug as you ugly sob into his chest.

“It’s going to be okay, y/n. We can get through this together. If you still love me, we can talk it through. You still love me, right?” he angled your frowning face up to his.

“Of course,” you answer like music to his ear.

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Lee Know

Before you ever accepted Minho’s confession, you’ve been told by nearly everyone around him that he would be a handful. And oh Jesus, you wish they had warned you better, because he wasn’t just a handful. Minho was a pain in the ass if he didn’t try. Even before you got together with him, he found pleasure in teasing and making fun of you whenever he got the chance to.

But besides the assholery moves Minho liked to pull, when he was just with you, he showed sides of himself that only you got to experience. That’s pretty much your answer whenever somebody ask you how did you guys even got into a relationship considering y’all were pretty much like fire and water. The person who everyone else found to be a living nightmare because you just don’t mess with him since he has such a way with his words, you’ll find yourself questioning your intelligence.

Minho can either be the best person you’ll ever meet in your lifetime or as so he likes to claim, or he can be the person that makes your feet turn the other way whenever you hear his name. So you knew this weren’t going to turn out pretty when Minho was forced to be in a team with Hyunjin for game night and Hyunjin was losing every single point possible.

At first, him and the rest tried to play it off light heartedly, but you can feel the room growing sour each time Hyunjin missed the hints and was unable to score a point for this game of Charades that was suggested by the super innovative Chan, who decided that Hyunjin and Minho in the same team was evolution.

The others were having a blast poking fun at Hyunjin and Minho whose points were definitely not looking very nice until Minho out of a sudden, slapped the pile of papers onto the ground and said he’s had it.

“I don’t want to be in a team with him! He sucks!” Minho pointed fingers at Hyunjin who obviously took it personal by the look of his face.

The room silenced and everybody just stared until Chan spoke up, “Come on, just this once. You guys are never on the same team because you always want to change.”

“Yeah, because he sucks, can’t you see. Even a 5 year old kid would be able to score more points than him. We’re not even losing by a little. We’re unredeemable at this point,” Minho spit out without missing a single beat.

Everybody was growing uncomfortable, especially Hyunjin who had done his best to stay positive the whole time.

“Minho! Can you not. That’s incredibly rude. It’s just a game. Losing one night won’t kill you. How childish can you be.” You stared at your own boyfriend in disgust.

“Really now, you’re going to argue with me against this?” It was like he really couldn’t believe you were not on his side.

“So what if I am. You’re acting ridiculous and you deserve to know it.”

“Guys! Please stop. Don’t argue because of me please. He’s right. I wasn’t very good. Don’t be angry at him because of me, y/n. I’ll be fine. I’m going to go outside to get some fresh air, I’ll feel better once I come back.” Hyunjin excused himself and left.

You could only roll your eyes when Minho, being his stubborn self was refusing to go after Hyunjin and continued to stay in the same spot.

“How selfish can one be.” You criticized him before you followed after Hyunjin.

You had hoped Hyunjin didn’t think too much of it, knowing how Minho usually is. Being the sweetheart he is, he thanked you and told you not to worry. When you went back inside, the others notified you that Minho had already left and honestly, you could care less. He was being a d*ck and this time, you weren’t going to cave in. Only time would help kill that inflated ego of his.

About a week has passed and you still haven’t talked to Minho and vice versa. You knew that his diva ass would never give in, so you didn’t quite know why you were silently battling him when you’re pretty sure if you wanted to fix this, you’ll have to do it yourself. But you didn’t want to.

You’ve had enough of Minho always getting what he wants, always having the last say in anything, and thinking that you’ll always bend backward for him. It’s kind of funny because Hyunjin had actually told you that Minho already apologized, so why are you guys still fighting? Pride. Now it’s just a fight of pride. And as much as Minho has it, you have a lot of it as well.

It was the weekend, and usually you’ll spend your weekend with Minho doing whatever you guys usually do but since he wasn’t here anymore, you decided to just spend your day relaxing with a nice cup of tea watching Netflix. It was your day off work and you weren’t going to let this day go to waste.

You gently set your tea down on the little table to your right, about to lay against the couch when the corner of your eyes caught your screen lit up with a text message. You sat back up and struggled for about a couple seconds trying to reach your phone that you had placed a little too far.

It was from Minho. You couldn’t believe it. Reading what he sent you just made it even more amusing.

Stupid, are you going to apologize or not - Minho Lee

Why should I apologize. What the hell? I didn’t do shit - Y/n

Okay well I already said sorry to Hyunjin so I don’t know why you so pressed for. I didn’t do nun to you. I mean I know you kind of had a thing for him and all before we met but don’t take it out on me - Minho Lee

This little shit, you thought.

Bruh. I never liked him tf. I just think he’s very pretty. Prettier than me. And unlike someone, he actually has half a brain and some human decency - Y/n

Okay we get it, you have a crush on Hyunjin - Minho Lee

No, dumbass. The problem is you always going around saying, doing whatever you like without considering other people’s feelings. I know that’s your personality and all, but there’s a limit between what’s okay and what’s crossing the line, and whenever I try to tell you, you never listen. Always doing whatever you want. Hyunjin is one of your best friend and you hurt his feelings the other day and didn’t even feel bad about it until someone got in your face and told you you were being a d*ck. I love you, Minho. But I just wish you would listen sometimes and be open to I don’t know... improvements? - Y/n

I’m sorry, I’ve just grew up this way so it’s hard to get out of a pattern. Sometimes I say things I don’t mean and sometimes I say things I do mean and then I don’t realize that my actions has caused harm to the other person, because I’ve just always been this way you know. Others have tried telling me before but I've always brushed it off because I am a stubborn person. But I care about you. You’re one of the very first person other than the members that I deeply care about. So if you’re telling me this out of love then I’ll take it into consideration. I know I should’ve been nicer to Hyunjin as well. Chan yelled at me for a while the other day, so please don’t yell at me too :( - Minho Lee

Of course I care about you. Everything I do is out of love, dear. You’re one hell of a nuisance but I love you. I know you grew up this way and it is difficult getting out of a pattern, but take little steps. I’ll be here with you. and yeah, you totally deserved that from Chan. Jk I love you - Y/n

You’re mean :( can I come over. We were supposed to go shopping today - Minho Lee

Mhmmm. Let me think about it - Y/n

Well you have 2 seconds, because I’m already outside your door - Minho Lee

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Changbin

Changbin liked to brag about anything and everything, whether that’s how many confessions he got on Valentines, to how many people who wanted to be his partner when it came to a science project, or even the amount of girls that would hit on him daily.

You never really minded because that was just how he is. And of course, mainly because you knew all those scenarios only existed in his head and was as real as flying fairies and pink unicorns. So when someone was actually blatantly hitting on him, Changbin wasn’t as knowledgeable as his bluffs claimed to be.

Changbin was one of the best from his music class, so good that the professor made him the teacher’s assistant even when the semester was on going. He usually talk tales of how many students usually needs his help when it came to writing lyrics or composing as a beginner. Interesting enough, but nothing major as he’d like to phrase it.

Then every time when you guys would usually meet at the end of classes to which you usually ask how his day went, he started talking about this girl who he’s currently assisting. At first it was nothing out of the ordinary. Just a student from his class who he’s helping because that’s his job. Even the first two or three days of his on-going blabbering about this student didn’t kick something in you until maybe the fourth time this week where this girl is always managing to squeeze herself into his schedule everyday. It shouldn’t have bothered you, but for some reason it did.

Especially when he’d say alarming things like “Oh yeah and she also asked me if I wanted to get a drink after class but I told her I have plans.” or “She compliments me a lot and told me if I have time, she’d love to listen to my work.”

Maybe you’re overreacting and she’s just a really engaging and kind person. You felt bad at first for assuming such a thing about another human being, so you gave her the benefit of the doubt because you didn’t know your dumbass boyfriend would be this oblivious when someone is clearly trying to get inside his pant.

So when you happened to walk past the school garden the following week and saw the both of them from your very clear sight, you were a little more than dumbfounded. This girl was not even trying to hide it at all. You didn’t know how Changbin was keeping his eyes to himself at this point. The outfit she was wearing was definitely very sexy and appealing. Changbin was still faced down, scribbling something on the music sheet trying to get the female to engage but she clearly had something else in mind.

You could’ve sworn you saw her hand trailed alongside Changbin’s thigh and so you accidentally let out a shriek, but quickly hid behind the thick white pillar, grumpily dragging yourself back to class in anger after.

After your final class of the day, Changbin waited for you at the bench near the entrance where you guys had always met up. He beamed with ecstasy once he saw you, but you quickly brushed past him and continued walking completely shunning his existence. His smile progressed into a frown once he realized that you were not in your usual mood.

He ran in front of you and blocked any further movements.

“Y/n, are you okay?” He asked with a concerning expression.

You didn’t say anything and only continued scowling.

“Come on. You know you can tell me anything,” He encouraged.

You of course, continued to be silent for a few more seconds because you honestly couldn’t get anything out due to how enraged you were feeling on the inside.

“You liar!” you slapped his chest with literally no strength at all as your tears escaped at the same time.

“Wait hold up, what did I lie about?” He was in complete confusion.

“I saw it, Changbin. You and her at the garden. How could you let her make a move on you like that.”

His face showed that it wasn’t really clicking with him until he thought more about it.

“Who did I let make a move on me? Minji? I was only helping her, Y/n. Please don’t misunderstand. The class was getting really loud and we needed a quieter place, so I asked the instructor if it would be fine if me and her went somewhere else.”

“So you just let her be all up on you like that? She was clearly hitting on you, Changbin. How do you not see it?” School was no place to be emotional, but here you were, bawling like a little baby at the entrance of the school as Changbin tries to comfort you. You guys definitely weren’t getting weird stares. Nope.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t know you thought of it like that. Cause I didn’t. I just thought of her as another student that needed help. I’m sorry Y/n, if I made you uncomfortable. I didn’t do it on purpose I swear, because in my mind, there’s no one else but you. I know I like to boast all the time but I only do it as a joke because you seem to like it. I would never in a million year think of hurting your feelings. Hundreds of other girls could give me attention or like me, but none of them matters if they’re not you. I only love you, Y/n.”

His words made you immediately stopped sobbing as if your broken heart has been patched up.

“R-really? You mean it?” You pout.

“Of course, silly. I would never think about being with someone else but you. Never.” He leveled your face with his.

“I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. Just seeing another girl being intimate with you kind of tugged something in me.” you awkwardly chuckled.

“Aww. My baby was jealous. Not going to lie, you’re kind of cute when you’re upset,” He teased you.

“Changbin!” you slapped his shoulder in retaliation.

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Hyunjin

Between the both of you guys, Hyunjin had always been the one who had the upper hand in almost everything when it came to catching others attention. Anything ranging from looks, to talent, or even intelligence, you can admit he’s got it better than you do.

Going out to public places, you quickly got used to getting stares from other girls or even old Aunties who would comment on how good looking your boyfriend was, and how lucky you were to have him. They weren’t wrong, you were of course very lucky to have someone like Hyunjin who was definitely way too good for you. You didn’t take it to heart very much that other girls have eyes for him the way you do, because he’s made it distinctly known that he only saw you. Jealousy in the relationship was a bigger problem for you than for him at the beginning, because compared to him, you were not as sought after.

The whole duration of your guys relationship, he never had to deal with any actual threat or competition that he could possibly lose you, or that you would find someone else more intriguing than him because he was always accustomed to you having your whole attention toward him whenever he was in the room. So that was why when the opportunity finally present itself, he found himself developing a sort of ill feeling that he wasn’t familiar with. A feeling that left a bitter taste in his mouth, one that turned his vision red when he wasn’t a violent person in the first place.

You had been talking about this friend all week, reminiscing the past to Hyunjin about all the crazy things you and this friend did back in the days. Hyunjin being the amazing boyfriend he usually is, was very supportive of course. You haven’t seen this friend in years ever since his family moved away to another city.

He called you a few days ago to let you know he’ll be back in Seoul, visiting for a few days and wanted to catch up. How could you let this chance pass by. The person that was there for you when you had your darker days, the person that ran miles through the rain when you needed him, there’s no way you would say no.

Hyunjin was more than happy to accompany you to the Mall although you did assure him he didn’t have to, as you didn’t want to bother him if he had plans, but he was persistent he wanted to meet your friend and get to know one another. Since he agreed to everything, you thought might as well introduce them to each other.

But Hyunjin’s cheerful and optimistic aura rapidly changed into a stinging one when your friend ran up to you with a hug, and oh boy did your friend looked nothing like Hyunjin had drew in his head. In his head, he was a she. The person that was arms deep within your hug didn’t have long flowing hair, nor did he looked very feminine like he had pictured. He was growing some kind of hatred for this stranger that he barely even knew, and it was only solidified more when you would get so engaged in conversation with your friend, you would forget for a moment Hyunjin was even there.

The way you laughed at his jokes mirrored how you would exactly react to Hyunjin’s whenever he said something funny. He hated how your friend would sometimes pull you so close to him and you would just go along with it. Hyunjin literally felt invisible. This friend of yours managed to shrink you and Hyunjin’s year long relationship into what felt like you both only knew each other for weeks. Hyunjin could tell just by his body languages and actions that this friend knew you for years. And then he just felt like nothing. Hyunjin was nothing compared to this friend of yours, and he was mad at himself, mad at you, mad at him, mad at everything.

He was so tangled up in his own train of thoughts that he hadn’t even realized you have been trying to call him.

“Hyunjin!” you pinched his arm not too hard.

“Oh I’m sorry, what.”

“Do you want ice cream?” You asked him.

“I’m good no thank you,” He answered completely uninterested.

“But you love ice cream, Hyunjin. Are you sure?” you tried to get a confirmation just one last time.

“Yes, I am sure.” He rolled his eyes as if he’s being pestered by an annoying bug. It wasn’t what he said but it was the way he said it. He was giving you attitude and you didn’t like it at all.

“Okay geez, just a no would’ve done.” you frowned.

Hyunjin has his days, but he’s usually self composed when it came to your friends. He had always been nice and pretty kind if someone was close to you since you were his girlfriend, but he was different today. He was hushed and soundless, not at all like the Hyunjin you knew.

“What flavor would you like, Y/n?” Sanghyun, your friend asked.

“Mhmm. Any flavor will do.”

“I’ll get mint for the both of us then, if that’s fine with you.” Sanghyun looked for an answer in your eyes.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You nodded.

You were not too cool with the flavor but you haven’t seen your friend in a while and it wouldn’t hurt to just take it this one time, for him. It didn’t bother you too much that he might’ve forgotten. It’s been a while.

Hyunjin was beyond confusion. For as long as he knew you, you hated mint. Absolutely refused to eat it whenever he took you out, and now all of a sudden you’re fine with it? For him?

“But I thought you hate mint. So what? You suddenly like it now because he suggested it?” Hyunjin fired, as if he was ridiculing you.

For a second you thought you forgot to clean your ears, because you refuse to acknowledge that Hyunjin was actually trying to cause a scene right now, in the mall, with your friend by your side, in front of all these people.

“What’s up with you today, Hyunjin. Giving me an attitude when I asked a simple question and now this? If you have a problem, you can tell me. No need to make a scene,” you scolded him, utterly embarrassed by your boyfriend’s action.

Sanghyun looked terrified down to his toes just glaring you guys down.

“Fine, I’ll tell you what my problem is.” And without your consent, Hyunjin somehow managed to drag you all the way to the parking lot against your protest.

“Let go, Hyunjin!” you threw his hold off of you.

“What the hell is your problem? You made me look like an absolutely fool back there. How do you think Sanghyun feels now, seeing how much of an asshat my boyfriend is acting after all those stories I told him about how you’re the most kind and caring person ever,” you raised your voice, too irritated at this point to even care if anyone heard you.

“Well, I probably wouldn’t be acting like this in the first place if you had made it clearer that your friend was a freaking guy.”

“Really, Hyunjin. Is this what it’s about? That my friend is a guy? That’s it? I’m sorry but, if you’re going to act childish and jealous because you can’t handle me being friends with the opposite gender, then that’s your problem. Not mine. Besides, we don’t even like each other like that. He was one of my only friend back when I had nobody. He was there for me when no one else was. I don’t see anything else in him but the same guy back then who was like a best friend to me.”

You had hope you knocked some sense into him. Your tone turning from furious to more serious.

“I don’t care if he was your friend from back then or whatever. You have me now. I don’t like the way he looks at you, or act around you. I never act like that around any other females.”

You were this close. This close to just straight punching him and running him over with his own car. The person you were talking to right now and yesterday was the difference between day and night. You think that might’ve been the shittiest thing Hyunjin has ever said since you’ve known him and you were denying it yourself that it came out of his mouth.

“Oh go cry me a river, Hyunjin! When I was telling you the details of my past friendship before you even knew the gender, you were rooting for me, but now that you know it’s a guy you’re all of a sudden acting like a little bitch? Why does it matter whether it’s a guy or a girl?” You questioned his integrity, but most of all, you were just in disbelief.

“Fine, whatever. Suit yourself.” He sarcastically threw his hands up in the air in defeat and drove away without final words from you. Unfuckingbelievable. He was like a little child throwing a tantrum because he didn’t get what he wanted.

You didn’t want to leave Sanghyun hanging, but if you were to be frank, Hyunjin totally killed all the good vibes within you and left you with no motivation or energy to do anything else. You made way back to the ice cream court and simply apologized to Sanghyun on yours and Hyunjin’s behalf. He didn’t mind too much and only wished you luck on the relationship. It was a bummer that he was leaving tomorrow already and the only day he was free to spend it with you, your man child “boyfriend” had to go and ruin it all.

When you entered the lonely atmosphere of your hollowed apartment, Hyunjin’s well being did crossed your mind because he was notorious for being quite stupid, always acting on his feelings whenever he was upset. You never had to worry too much before though because it was only on rare occasions where his head would be so far up his ass, but you knew this time was one of those occasion. But you were mad at him as well. Never in a million years could you picture him ever saying those nasty things.

You settled down on the couch and eventually put your mind and body to rest. Today’s been a long day and you needed that nap more than anything. You had called Jeongin and Chan to notify them of what happened and to keep an eye out for Hyunjin in case, before closing your eyes and seeing black.

When you were finally conscious enough, the only thing that made its existence clear, was the sound of traffic outside your window. You may have overslept just a tiny bit. Rubbing your eyes to get a better view of your surroundings, you felt a weight on you as you struggled to get up. Turning towards your left, you found Hyunjin completely knocked out and slouched against you with his head on your shoulder and his arms around your waist. Right, Hyunjin had a spare key to your apartment.

He looked like an absolute angel that fell from heaven, almost as great as the day he conquered your heart. He was adorable and quite resembles a puppy when he’s not spurting all those hateful words. You needed to use the restroom bad so you made an effort to untangle him off of you but just as you were about to get up, a strong force wrapped you back down.

“Ahhh! I thought you were asleep.” you faced him with bulging eyes.

“I was.” He calmly replied, his arms still around you.

“Bummer. I like it when you’re peaceful and not so angry. You are cuter that way,” you purposely jabbed.

“I’m sorry. I really am. I wasn’t thinking at the moment and just acted on emotions. I’m really sorry y/n. I was angry when I drove off but when I got home, I just kept thinking and thinking and the more I thought, the stupider I realize I was... please forgive me.” he pouted and rested his head on your shoulder.

“Oh you big baby. Don’t try to bribe me with your cuteness now. You made Sanghyun scare of you and today was his only free day to catch up,” you scolded him as you pinched his cheeks.

“I won’t ever do that again, I swear. I’ll be better next time. I was just... jealous when I saw another guy acting close to you. It makes me scare that I’m going to lose you. I know I was wrong. But I just want you to know I’m sorry.” He said it softly but also with shame.

“Oh dear. There’s nobody else I love more than you. If anything, I should be the one scared to lose you.”

“I only love you, y/n.” He looked into your eyes and did that little smile that always makes your heart weak. The one where his dimples would pop out.

“I love you too, Hyunjin. Now let me go, I need to pee.”

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

SORRY I GOT CARRIED AWAY WITH HYUNJIN’S. anyways.

Part 2 for the remaining members coming soon

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the-widow-sisters · 3 years

Text

Tracing My Love

Summary: When Yelena is bored one day, Natasha asks Yelena to lay her head on Natasha's lap. Yelena is confused until her sister introduces her to a gentle activity that fully satiates the touch-starved beast within Yelena. Just innocent sister fluff.

Word Count: 2093

“I’m bored,” Yelena whined, drawing the last word out in a much too dramatic fashion. She could feel Natasha’s gaze upon her as she looked up from the book that she had stuffed her nose into.

“Go for a run,” Natasha suggested, and Yelena shook her head from her position on the other side of the couch, just groaning loudly.

“It’s too hot and miserable for that,” Yelena informed her, looking at her older sister and taking in the unhidden grin spreading across the redhead’s face.

“You could get one of those nasty slushie things you like,” Natasha spoke, and Yelena scoffed immediately in reply.

“The store is not open on Sundays. Besides, the slushies are a delicacy. Second only to vodka,” Yelena informed her, and Natasha just grinned a bit wider, a laugh rising in her throat, and Yelena felt quite satisfied with herself for bringing such emotion to the redhead.

“So that must be why you like them,” Natasha suddenly piped up in response. Yelena shifted her gaze to her in slight confusion.

“What?” Yelena asked, suspicion in her voice as she noted how smug and pleased that Natasha sounded with herself. She had to admit that it was quite nice to have the privilege of hearing Natasha’s voice in such a pleasing, happy tone.

“You must be mixing vodka in so you can’t taste the actual slushie,” Natasha told her, keeping her voice perfectly level, and Yelena narrowed her eyes a little in a playful glare. Natasha’s light greens were sparkling with mirth as she glanced up from the book.

“Ha,” Yelena just faked a short bark of laughter.

“There’s food in the kitchen,” Natasha suggested, and Yelena just pouted a little in response to the statement.

“There is no sour cream and onion chips,” Yelena shot down her sister’s proposal,

“I bought some for you yesterday.”

“Yeah, about that… I finished the bag yesterday,” Yelena admitted with a slight grin, completely unashamed of her feat, and Natasha’s eyes widened a little

“Seriously?!” Natasha questioned, some surprise in her voice as she looked up from her novel once again to gaze at Yelena.

“What?! I’m a growing girl, you know!” Yelena defensively declared, and Natasha just shook her head with mock disappointment.

“If you keep downing a whole bag of potato chips all at one time, you’re going to grow. Not sure if you’re going to like how you do, though,” Natasha commented, raising her eyebrows.

Yelena brought her foot up, gently kicking Natasha’s arm that was holding up the book. However, she overdramatically did it, so it looked like she was putting more effort into it than she actually was. Natasha skillfully kept her hold on the book, just trading hands as she kept reading.

Yelena groaned before scooting over closer to Natasha, her eyes locked onto the side of Natasha’s face. She eased ever nearer to the redhead, and she finally was close enough to rest her chin on Natasha’s shoulder as she lazily raked her gaze over the words inside the book, not truly reading any of it. Natasha raised an eyebrow, craning her neck slightly and looking down at the blonde.

Yelena just shifted her honey-green eyes upward to meet Natasha’s.

“What are you reading?” Yelena questioned curiously, and Natasha huffed a little. She delivered a swift, soft kiss to the center of Yelena’s forehead before looking back down at the book.

“Probably nothing you’re going to find interesting.”

“Try me,” Yelena challenged, and Natasha simply looked down at the younger girl with blatant skepticism evident in her stare.

“I will have you know that I am very educated in the world of literary… ness,” Yelena proclaimed, her voice a little uncertain despite the bravado she forced into it. Natasha just chuckled fondly, shaking her head a little.

“It’s Gone with the Wind,” Natasha told her, and Yelena wrinkled her nose with disgust. She tilted her head, trying to get a better look at the cover. She scoffed as she spotted a man and a woman on the front in a loving embrace.

“Are you sure this is appropriate reading material?” Yelena asked, trying and failing to hold back the laugh in her voice. Natasha raised an eyebrow with slight confusion, not exactly understanding Yelena’s mirth.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“It looks like it has some… adult themes,” Yelena suggestively spoke, waggling her eyebrows ridiculously, and Natasha finally flipped the book to actually take the time to look at the cover. She quickly caught on, just laughing at the younger girl. Yelena chuckled but awaited an answer.

“No, no, none of that. Just pure romance. Not anything too out there.”

“Ick. Sounds sappy,” Yelena blew her off, her chin still resting on Natasha’s shoulder heavily, and she noticed out of her peripheral vision that Natasha was rolling her eyes in reply to her.

“Natashka, I’m bored,” Yelena drew the words out tiredly, unable to think of anything she wanted to do and hoping that her awesome big sister would think of something. Natasha finally put down the book on the table nearby, pursing her lips ever so slightly as she grew lost in thought.

After a painstakingly long moment of this, Natasha seemed almost as if she had settled upon something or came to some conclusion or another. She looked at Yelena and shifted slightly so that Yelena would raise her head from its place on her shoulder. Yelena felt the need to complain about the loss of her comfy place, but she held her tongue, curious as to what Natasha was coming up with.

Natasha looked at her for a long moment before finally speaking.

“Lay down,” Natasha patted her lap, and Yelena started to do it without question, eager to take advantage of her sister’s offered affections. However, she quickly paused in the middle of her movements, looking at Natasha skeptically.

“Wait… Why?” Yelena asked, and Natasha rolled her eyes fondly, nothing but warmth in her eyes.

“Just do it,” Natasha told her, and Yelena hesitantly complied, not sure what to expect but trusting Natasha nevertheless. She was not sure if she was being lured into a tickle trap so she carefully kept her arms clamped to her sides once her head was in Natasha’s lap.

“Relax. No tickle fights,” Natasha assured her, and Yelena loosened, hearing the genuineness in the redhead’s voice. She hesitantly slid her arms up so that they were resting on either side of her head and across Natasha’s lap.

To her surprise, Natasha rolled up the back of her shirt, and Yelena stiffened just barely. She quickly loosened up, though, trusting Natasha wholeheartedly. Before she could ask what the older woman was doing, she suddenly felt feather-light touches raking across her back gently.

She almost shivered from the feeling, and her eyes were open wide as Natasha’s digits tickled barely along her back, tender across her skin.

“I’m going to trace a word on your back, and you’ve got to tell me what it is,” Natasha explained, her voice soft and quiet, and Yelena just nodded barely, worried that if she even breathed wrong that the attentions would stop. The ministrations were unlike anything she had ever felt, and it made her mind completely overload with the sensations of the most trusted person in her life touching her so lovingly and so gently.

Y-E-L-E-N-A.

Natasha stopped once she had spelled it out, and it took Yelena a painfully long moment to respond to the redhead as she tried to get her thoughts back in order from the overwhelmingly kind touches.

“Yelena,” Yelena answered softly, finding herself eager for the next word that would be traced if only to feel Natasha’s gentle fingers running across her back.

“Good job,” Natasha softly praised, and Yelena felt her chest constricting with something that was so purely the love of an adoring little sister that thought her older sister’s praise was as valuable as the air she breathed. Of course, she would never admit this to herself, but it nevertheless was an emotion that was coursing through every fiber of her being.

“Two words this time,” Natasha explained quietly, and Yelena almost impatiently awaited her sister’s tender touches.

S-W-E-E-T.

G-I-R-L.

“Sweet girl?” Yelena asked, almost embarrassed as she uttered one of Natasha’s special nicknames for her.

“That’s it,” Natasha quietly agreed, and Yelena felt herself melting even further with the love in her voice.

It was all that Yelena had ever wanted in her life. She had just wanted her sister’s affection, approval, and love. While she felt ridiculous on one hand for finding such satisfaction and pure happiness from a silly game like this, on the other hand it was something she craved deeply.

Natasha soon started writing again.

L-A-P-O-C-H-K-A.

“Lapochka,” Yelena affirmed, feeling a slight smile coming to her face, and Natasha chuckled warmly.

“Thought I’d switch languages and make it a little more complicated,” Natasha told her, and her voice was filled with nothing but affection. Yelena felt herself inflating a little with the loving, proud tone in Natasha’s voice. She knew she had really accomplished nothing significant, but it was still a huge deal to her that Natasha approved even of something as dumb as guessing a word right.

Natasha traced another word on her back, and Yelena concentrated on it carefully.

“Rooskaya,” Yelena acknowledged, and Natasha swept a hand across her back as if she were erasing the word. Yelena closed her eyes, enjoying the contact from someone that she trusted so deeply.

“I,” Yelena read once Natasha wrote and paused for a while. It was confusing to her, and she did not know what exactly Natasha meant by just one letter.

Natasha swept a hand across her and started again. Yelena furrowed her brow as she felt the letters across her back.

“Love,” Yelena spoke, and Natasha started writing again, her finger moving carefully along Yelena’s skin.

“You,” Yelena finished, and she quickly realized that Natasha had written her a message. Goosebumps covered Yelena’s back, and Yelena moved her head so that her chin was on top of Natasha’s leg. She looked up at the redhead, feeling her heart overflowing with pure adoration. Natasha was looking down at her softly, her eyes warm with care.

Yelena felt her lips tugging down at the corners just a little, and she valiantly fought the tears of love, happiness, and awe that were threatening to come over her. She moved a bit closer to Natasha, burying her face into the redhead’s stomach and wrapping her arms around Natasha’s waist slowly and tightly.

She ordinarily would not have cried at her sister telling her that she loved her, but somehow, this time felt so much more meaningful. It was through that physical contact and affection that Yelena so craved and needed, and the fact that Natasha had somehow combined verbal and physical methods to tell her how she felt was almost more than Yelena could take.

“Ya tebya lyublyu, Natashka,” Yelena spoke against Natasha, and Natasha ran her fingers through Yelena’s hair before gently pulling Yelena’s shirt back down over her back.

“Ya tozhe tebya lyublyu, milaya devushka,” Natasha reciprocated, and Yelena just pressed herself against Natasha harder, feeling her body as it moved with her breaths.

After a long moment of this and when Yelena was sure she could trust her voice again, she pulled away from Natasha and rolled over so that she was laying on her back with her head in Natasha’s lap.

“Wait… Isn’t it your turn?” Yelena questioned softly with a slight quirk of her eyebrow, trying to convey more chill about this whole thing than she was really feeling. Natasha chuckled a little, reciprocating the eyebrow raise.

“Sure,” Natasha replied easily, and Yelena sat up from her place in Natasha’s lap and straightening her legs on the couch so that Natasha could lay across her. Yelena just watched her expectantly, and Natasha smiled softly before laying her head down in Yelena’s lap carefully, her arms brought up so that her hands could gently hold onto Yelena’s leg.

Yelena softly pulled back Natasha’s shirt and looked down at the slightly scarred canvas before her. She quietly thought for a moment before a wicked smirk came onto her face. She began to trace the word.

Natasha was quiet for a moment, and Yelena finally reached the last letter, waiting eagerly for Natasha’s response. Sure enough, Natasha quickly caught on, and she spun on her side, looking up at Yelena with mock offense.

“Poser?!”

Yelena just cackled.

#yelena belova #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #widow sisters #black widow #black widow 2021 #marvel #marvel fic #marvel fanfic #black widow fic #black widow fanfic #friendship #family #platonic #touch starved #sisters #fluff

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cherryonigiri · 3 years

Text

nanami kento [evenings with you]

nanami kento x reader || cw: descriptions of blood/injuries, light angst

a/n: this is just self-indulgent writing for me but i'm v stressed about school rn and this is the result. just imagine that y/n is a bio/medical phd candidate lol.

Nanami can tell that you're stressed. Usually you savor the nights he's not on overtime, asking him about work and refusing to leave his side for most of the evening. He's used to you being attentive, so the fact that you've asked him the same question twice within the last ten minutes is already setting alarm bells ringing in his head. You're constantly fiddling with something, or flashing furtive glances towards the bedroom when you think he's not paying attention.

It only gets worse after dinner. You insist on washing up, something about how you want him to 'enjoy his night off.' Nanami compromises, silently grabbing a towel and drying the dishes. It's clear that your mind is elsewhere. Your hands scrub the porcelain on autopilot, and he can hear you muttering under your breath.

Every now and then you'll mutter a list of tasks under your breath. Nanami remembers you mentioning that things were hectic in lab. You're almost always still working when gets home from work, even when it's well past when you eat your dinner. It's clear that you've had a busy day-- the apartment is far more cluttered than it usually is. There are post-it and pieces of scrap paper stuck to every single surface, and a forgotten pile of folded laundry rests on the couch.

An intense burning sensation across your palm causes you cry out. "Shit!" You drop the knife you were washing in favor of cradling your already bleeding hand. Nanami is instantly by your side, firmly pressing the dishcloth against your cut. There is a worrying amount of red seeping into the fabric, so he silently ushers you to the bathroom.

It's a strange reversal of roles. He's used to being the one leaning leaning against the counter while you bandage his wounds. Instead, it's you who is perched on the marble surface, wincing as he dabs an antiseptic soaked cotton ball against your injury. "Sorry, I'm almost done," he says when you let out a loud hiss.

"It's fine," you reply, sheepishly looking away. "I should have been paying more attention."

Nanami chooses to only respond with a nonchalant hum, focusing on cleaning your palm. The two of you sit there in comfortable silence while he applies ointment to the cut, adding gauze once he's finished. It's only when he reaches for the bandages that he decides to ask. "What's stressing you out?"

Your eyes widen as you realize you've been caught. Nanami is rarely home early these days, especially since he's been mentoring Itadori on behalf of Gojo. (Not that you mind - in the few times you've met Itadori through video call with Nanami, the pink-haired student's sunny disposition has never failed to cheer you up.) When he'd texted you saying he'd be home by dinner, you'd jumped at the opportunity to spend some much needed time with him. You'd pulled out the stops, cooking something a little fancier, and intent on spending the earlier part of the evening cuddling with him. Secretly, you had planned to sneak out of bed after he'd fallen asleep (he always goes to bed early on days like these) and finish preparing for the gauntlet of meetings and presentations you had tomorrow. It was your fault for putting off the tasks, and you didn't want to let your own bad habits get in the way of some quality time with your boyfriend.

"It's nothing, I just have a lot on my plate tomorrow." You do your best to laugh it off, but quickly trail off once when you catch Nanami's deadpan expression. He's always been too good at seeing through your white lies. "I put off some work..." A raised eyebrow from him prompts you to continue, "And I was planning on doing it after you went to bed..." You can't help it when your face scrunches into a pout. After all, now your carefully-laid deception has been revealed.

When Nanami bursts into amused chuckles, you're momentarily surprised, but quickly go back to sulking. "Stop laughing at me Ken!" you whine, "I'm a--"

"Self-aware procrastinator," he finishes your sentence with an amused grin. "I know love, I know. I've seen you write far too many papers within 24-hours of a deadline to be surprised." He presses an affectionate kiss against your wrist.

You scowl at your boyfriend, snatching your bandaged hand away from his grasp. "I'm glad that my suffering is entertaining for at least one person." You stomp back to the bedroom in faux-anger, smiling when you hear Nanami's footsteps not far behind you.

When he steps into the bedroom Nanami drapes his frame over your shoulders, his warm torso nestled against your back. "It is one of your more...endearing traits," he murmurs into your ear before pressing a kiss into the crook of your neck. You can feel your cheeks and ears tingle at his words of affection.

"Sometimes you can be such a sweet talker," you mumble to yourself while you change into your pajamas. This week it's been an old Jujutsu tech hoodie and a pair of well-worn athletic shorts.

"Only for you," Nanami replies while he undoes the buttons of his outfit, chucking his tan pants and blue button up into the laundry basket in the corner. He dons a pair of sweatpants before returning your side to recapture you in another affectionate hug. It's a well kept secret of the Kento-Y/N household that Nanami Kento likes to lounge around shirtless in the privacy of his apartment. (You've been sworn to secrecy, but only because your boyfriend claims that Gojo and the students would have a field day teasing him if this information were to be made public amongst the jujutsu sorcerer community.)

Turning around, you wrap your arms around his waist, burying your nose against his torso and taking in his comforting scent. It's been so long since the two of you have had a moment to yourselves, and for once your hectic thoughts are silenced in favor of sharing a moment of calm bliss with Nanami. He hums in appreciation, thumbs rubbing soothing circles against your hips.

"Do you want to watch anything tonight?" you ask after a few seconds of silence.

"No," he replies. "I was actually planning on reading the briefing Ichiji just sent me. Gojo apparently has another scheme up his sleeve." You giggle when your boyfriend lets out a pained sigh. On more than one occasion, your boyfriend has ranted to you about Gojo's unorthodox approach to exorcism. "I swear that idiot shaves a year off my lifespan every time I go on a mission with him," Nanami complains. "He's taking away the years I could spend in Malaysia."

You hum thoughtfully before responding, "Then do you mind--"

Once again, Nanami already knows what you're going to say. "Just remember to bring your laptop charger, I know you have a thousand tabs open on your computer right now," he says while exiting to the living room. After a few moments you join him, overburdened laptop and charger in hand. You both take your usual spots in the living room, him resting comfortably in the center of the loveseat and you sitting on a floor cushion, nestled between his legs. Soon you've fallen into a groove, fingers steadily typing on the keyboard. The warmth of Nanami's presence next to you brings a sense of calm, giving you the grounding focus you need to finish off the last of your tasks.

As he thumbs through the printouts Ichiji gave him, Nanami can't help but let his eyes drift towards you every now and then. You look so adorable when you work. From the way your brow furrows whenever you reread a line, to the way you unconsciously chew on your lip when you scrutinize your draft for any errors. Every now and then he'll gently run his fingers through your hair, relishing the content sighs you let out in response.

It only takes about another hour before you're (finally) closing all your tabs (he still doesn't know why your laptop hasn't crashed yet). As you scroll through social media, your head begins to droop. Soon enough you've fallen asleep, breaths coming in soft and even puffs as you rest against his thigh. Smiling to himself, he puts down his papers and gently lifts your body from the floor. He's careful not to wake you as he slowly makes his way back to the bedroom.

Setting you on the bed, he tucks you under the blankets before lying beside you. The moonlight coming through your window softly illuminates your relaxed features, and he softly traces the outline of your face with his thumb. As he continues to caress your cheek, his eyes are drawn to the dark circles under your eyes. He rarely falls asleep after you these days - between his physically demanding occupation and the ever growing number of things you are responsible for at work- he's often the first to fall asleep from sheer exhaustion while you work well into the night. Not to mention that he's had to spend an increasing number of nights away from you, either on challenging missions or accompanying Gojo's students. And while he knows most of your stress comes from being a student, he can't help but feel guilty about all the additional distress his status as a jujutsu sorcerer has caused you.

When you started dating him, you insisted that Shoko teach you how to suture. He hates how much your stitches have improved since then. The neatness of your stitches is a constant reminder of how much you've endured because of him. When he hears you trying to muffle your sobs into a pillow, he swears he can feel his heart crack in his chest, hurting more than any kind of physical wound from battle. Those nights end with him holding you tightly to his bandaged chest, murmuring reassurances and affection into the crown of your head until you've calmed down enough to fall into a fitful sleep. Even when you're unconscious he'll still continue, words morphing into apologies for the sadness he's inflicted upon your shoulders.

Feeling his eyelids being to droop, Nanami presses one last kiss against your forehead before laying down. He wraps his arms around your waist, surrounding you with warmth, hoping that his presence will be enough to keep your nightmares away, at least for tonight. I love you, y/n is the last thought he has before he drifts away, ready to dream of a tropical sunset and a peaceful future with you by his side.

#nanami x reader #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines

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notathingjustthere · 3 years

Text

Obstinacy

Writer’s note: I posted this last year to start a writing blog but deleted it because of school. It’s summer and now I wanna try again so here is this angsty bit, until I write something new.

Pairing: Jumin Han / Reader

Word Count: 2523

“You kept my clothes?”

It had been years since you stepped into this house. His house. You’d thought three years was long enough to get over someone, expecting him to have moved on. Hoping his desire for you had tired out after the long empty wait.

Here you sat, in his bathroom, a towel covering you as you inwardly worked toward sobriety. Shared memories with him kept bombarding through, some were of the space you had once called your own.

Jumin was pleased in his own way when your contact had popped up on his screen. For a moment he felt a tinge hopeful before answering on the fourth vibration.

“Hello?”

You were drunk when he arrived and he was disappointed, to say the least. Being so vulnerable in such an establishment did not settle well with him. Of course, you would never indulge in such menacing situations unplanned. You had called him sober, with the intent of being intoxicated upon his arrival.

You were almost at your goal before he walked in, too distracted by your conversation to notice him walking toward you. The bar had been fairly crowded, as he disregarded your “little friend”, as he had referred to it, and gently grabbed your arm. Jumin whispered harshly into your ear after helping you up, then made way to the exit.

You had giggled when he led you out, his face remained stoic as he was clueless about what was so amusing.

“Hi Mr. K-kim” you waved at the familiar awaiting driver who held the door open. He smiled whilst shutting the door, and you fixed yourself comfortably next to Jumin, who still would not budge. The ride back had been silent and short, time had lost you until the door opened again with him ready to help you out.

Now you sat in the same bed you shared years ago, facing him in silence as he stared at you testingly. The loud ticking of the clock served as a nuisance as you still tried to get your thoughts straight. Deciding you had waited long enough you gathered yourself onto the bed, preparing for sleep.

“If you’re not going to say anything then goodnight”

Jumin remained seated with his eyes still directed at you, he watched you throw the sheets over yourself and adjust yourself comfortably. It did not take long to hear your light breathing and occasional soft snores. After minutes passed of stillness, he sighed and made his way towards the bathroom, calling it a night.

He had emailed Jaehee about cancelling his meetings for the day as he would not be available. She would eventually give him a hard time for the short notice and inconvenience but that didn't seem to matter at the moment.

He joined you in bed, laying down behind you, hesitant to touch you as if you were so fragile and would break. Building the confidence, he wrapped an arm around you, fixing himself closer to embrace your scent and welcoming warmth.

Varying thoughts clouded his mind, making it difficult for him to fall asleep. Why had you just now appeared after disappearing all those years? Had you been in the city all this time? Were you still as curious of him as he was of you?

You moved and turned to him unconsciously, your eyes still closed. He smiled when he noticed you getting comfortable in his arms, wanting to be closer. He had missed your restless sleep habits, he had missed you so much and hoped you felt the same. He caved into a cuddle not wanting to let you go again, deciding his thoughts could wait another day. All that mattered at the moment was you in his arms.

***

It was sunny when you woke up to the subtle sweet smell of pancakes, his favourite. Although you preferred waffles to the latter the delicious gesture was always appreciated. You felt the gentle brush of Elizabeth the third, who was laid comfortably on your legs when you attempted to stretch.

Your face turned towards the nightstand instinctively for your phone, an eye roll seemed called for when you noticed it was not there. You had an idea as to where it was so decided to pay it no mind.

The walk to the kitchen was slow as your body kept to its morning sluggish movements. You stood at the door, abstractedly admiring the man of the hour’s take at domesticity. He was so focused on preparations, you thought he didn't hear you come in.

“Good morning love”

You hummed airily in response as you sat at the table. The guilt ate at you, it was selfish to call last night after leaving him for so long. You didn't know if you planned to stay either, but you knew he had decided otherwise.

He was so decisive, always knowing what he wanted. You envied it. The uncertainty endured over the years left you hollow. It didn't help that he was always so ready to love when you couldn't decide if you wanted to love. Maybe it was unfair of you to lead him on, or maybe he had been naive to think of you more than a friend. To fall for you.

You had been happy. No, content. The long-lived friendship had mutually developed into this unspoken intimacy you both allowed to remain unacknowledged. Maybe that's why leaving had been somewhat easy for you.

Your disappearance had been a spontaneous decision, Jumin who never expected it was left underwhelmed. He had also been happy alongside you, content as well. The trust he had built throughout your shared childhood always kept him going, so he had been pained when you just upped and left. He played it cool over the years after your vanishing, forcing a numbness that only you could reveal.

“Here you go” he placed a neatly plated stack in front of you along with the kettle of black tea. He sat across from you with his own scrumptious plate and passed you the milk and maple syrup.

You gave him a cheery grateful smile as you helped yourself to some breakfast. It’d been three years since you last shared a meal with him, the pleasure from the first bite in your mouth was gratifying. The moment was pleasant, but you knew it could only last for so long with the look he gave you.

Attempting to divert from his obvious curiosity, you asked about his father.

“Father is well, and so is yours. We all shared dinner the other night.”

“Mmhh” You nodded as you helped yourself to another bite.

“What, no work today?” You followed up, playing innocent after a few more aimless questions

“I see you are still stubborn” Jumin’s sudden harsh response was of no surprise, but you wished the distraction had lasted a bit longer.

“I can say the same for you” You challenged.

“Why do you insist on escaping this?”

You calmly sighed, taking a sip of your milk tea. “We are too much alike and you know that”

“What's so wrong with that?”

Your sigh was louder this time and you murmured to yourself, regretting not going against the phone call.

“Where did you go? Where have you been?”

“Far”

It was his turn to roll his eyes at your vague response. Jumin’s instant reactions were anticipated and he failed to not disappoint as he bombarded you with questions.

“Why did you come back then?” He chose to conclude with his assault.

“I don't know you tell me.” You knew he could answer most of his questions with a simple scan through your mobile device, which you knew he had already done.

The last time he left you home alone, had been the last time he saw you in three years, as you had made sure to leave no traces for him. You had your own resources but chose against using them as you wished to dissipate from existence.

You were successful, given the new chance to start over somewhere else. You never understood why you felt that way or why you still did, yet somehow you did know?

Jumin placed your phone on the table, sliding it over towards you in return. He had the serious look in his eye that he always wore, his semi-empty plate pushed to the side.

“My first and last question still stands”

You never did like confrontations or anything that you considered to be mentally or emotionally strenuous. Neither did he, yet here he was justly contributing to your headache.

Before any more words were exchanged, or any chance at a proper conversation the elevator dinged and a woman stepped out with one of the guards attempting to hold her back.

The scene before you served as a great diversion, you coyly smiled as your attention went towards the unexpected magenta haired guest.

***

Jumin’s palm took to his forehead, his annoyance evidently loud. The uninvited guest walked in forcefully, greeting the man she seemed so desperate to see.

“It's rude to keep me waiting at the gates, that's no way to treat your fiance.”

Her eagerness faltered when her eyes turned to you, a frown now played on her face.

“And who is this?” She asked, seemingly disgusted by your presence.

“Oh, I’ve heard so much about you! The supposed future Mrs. Han!” You jumped to reply lightheartedly, moving your hand in for a handshake.

Jumin could not decide what exactly he sensed from your act but he knew it was something different. Were you joking? Or were you serious? He could no longer tell, with you.

“I'm sorry sir, she wouldn’t wait at the gate” the nervous yet vexed bodyguard apologised.

Jumin waved him away and turned towards the nuisance that stood in his presence. He had hoped the day together would be progressive as emotional issues were being sorted out, but apparently, life had its own ideas.

“Sarah, was it? Chairman has said so much about you”

“And when exactly did you talk to my father?” Jumin asked you curiously.

Was he not the first person you contacted on your return? He would never admit it but the idea of not being first to hear from you was rather upsetting.

Three nights ago you had arrived home at an ungodly hour, your parents were not aware until that morning when the help had prepared breakfast for three. They had questioned the extra seat until you walked in still in your pajamas. It was an interesting morning nevertheless.

“Oh, may I see the ring? I just want to see if it's as lovely as the one he gave me.” You coyly smiled.

Sarah looked up at you confused, the silence did not help soothe the awkward tension. Jumin did not understand how he missed the ring on your finger, the one he had picked to ask your hand. You had agreed at the time, then disappeared without a trace. Now you stood in front of him playing with the item as though customary.

You always wore the ring so blithely before but had been wary. You were unsure of what to expect with your departure, whether he had been heartbroken or if he would ever move on. Each day you were reminded about the life you could have had with him, a life you may have wanted.

It was not that you were jealous but rather self-assured. Jumin had waited as you selfishly expected, by exploiting his fondness you got something you might have wanted. You never did find whatever it was that you set out to look for, nonetheless here you both stood next to each other.

Jumin’s possessiveness never sat well with you, but slowly you learned that maybe you were just as proprietorial as he was. It was so subtly instilled that you denied it for so long. Reality had come crashing when he asked for your hand in marriage, and even though you expected the gesture you somehow were still unprepared.

The gradual passing comments from either parent had made prospects seemingly clear. Perhaps it was your distaste for the arranged marriage that called for fleeing. Years of grooming and preparations done for the both of you were beneficial towards your legacies. Despite that your planned union was the foundation towards a future empire, you both cared for each other and showed it in your own pernicious ways.

“What is this Jumin? A joke?” Sarah had finally found words to share her annoyance.

Jumin’s eyes were focused on you, his initial indifference had faltered and he was now very amused. Sarah’s fuming had left her face a bit red, neither of them had entertained her remark.

“I had lunch with your father two days ago, he seemed very pleased to see me back”

“So you’re staying then,” Jumin asserted. There was silence at that, you were unsure of a decision and had withheld from giving it any thought.

“You met with my father before contacting me.” He was bitter, and that much was evident in his statement, when you did not respond he turned to his unwanted guest.

“Fortunately, I cannot see you off. I will call for someone to escort you out.”

“You can’t do that to your future wife! It's not right!” she snapped.

You had heard about the alleged engagement when you returned home, your parents inevitably brought it to your attention that morning.

“As you can see I already have a fiance.” Jumin moved towards you and wrapped an arm around you. “It is strange how delusional you are. I don’t even know you”

The elevator dinged again, Sarah screamed obscenities as the guard from before led her out forcefully.

When the doors closed, you let out a breath you unconsciously held in, Jumin tilted his head to look at your face as he hugged you from behind. You embraced the hug, silently battling your overwhelming thoughts. You both did not know what would happen from that second going on but decided to simply revel at the moment.

“You still wear my initials,” You noticed the customised watch you had gifted him at some point in your arguably deploring relationship. He chuckled and rested his chin on your head.

“And you kept the ring”

You released his arms around you and turned to face him, you had dragged out your stubbornness long enough and after the interaction with Sarah, you were exhausted. Meeting his eyes, you rested your arms around his neck and prepared your thoughts to speak, something you had been avoiding for so long.

“Look, you have every right to hate me. I know It was very selfish of me to call you last night, and as much as it was, I just didn't know how to properly address this”

“I know love. V tells me I can be very overwhelming” Jumin attempted to console as he chuckled.

Elizabeth the Third’s purring interrupted the very short-lived moment, however, it relieved the long felt tension. You both had a lot to discuss and figure out, but until then it seemed that things would be okay in your own baffling ways.

Thank you for reading! :)

#jumin han x reader #jumin x reader #jumin imagine #mysme jumin #jumin x mc #angst #mystic messenger #mysme

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band--psycho · 3 years

Text

George Weasley x Reader-Cuddles Before Class

(Credit to the gif owner)

My eight entry to @girl-next-door-writes bingo challenge (fluff), hope you all enjoy!

Bingo Masterlist / Harry Potter Era Masterlist

I was awoken by the pitter patter of rain hitting the glass windows; most of the days had been like this recently, maybe it was just because it was winter, so it shouldn’t surprise me all that much, but the weather seemed to match the mood most people at Hogwarts were feeling. It wasn’t the same. Not anymore, not since the Ministry sent Umbridge here. It was like she was a living breathing Dementor, she was just slowly sucking the joy out of the school, luckily Professor Dumbledore was still around to keep her in check. I hated her classes, I, like every other student in them, learnt absolutely nothing in them. Reading a book was nothing like actually casting the spells; which we needed now more than ever. I believed Harry entirely when he said that Voldemort was back, I knew others thought he was lying, but he was one of my best friends, I knew he wasn’t lying. We all knew that we needed to defend ourselves from the ever growing threat that hung over us even if the Ministry didn’t want us to.

I rolled onto my side only to be greeted by the peaceful face of no other than George Weasley. He’d been my rock throughout all of this, constantly reassuring me and listening to me rant about how unhappy I was here at the moment. Without him, I was certain I wouldn’t still be here.

“Goodmornin’, love,” George muttered, his arms instantly wrapping around my waist to pull me closer into him.

“Morning,” I whispered, placing a delicate kiss on his nose, making him scrunch up his nose slightly as a small chuckle escaped his lips. We stayed like that for a short while, neither of us saying a word, both of us just enjoying the tranquility we found in each other. I rested my head on his chest with closed eyes, the sound of his heart beating steadily, his chest almost acting like a lullaby that was easily sending me to sleep.

“We need to get to class,” he muttered, stroking my hair lightly. I just shook my head in response to his words and buried my head into the crook of his neck.

“Who’s your first lesson with?” George asked, still continuing his soothing actions, making me want nothing more than to stay in bed, just like this, with him for the entire day or least of all through my first lesson.

“Toadface,” I simply answered, a sigh of realisation left George’s lips as he held me tighter, placing a soft kiss on the top of my head.

“She’ll give you detention if you don’t go,” he whispered, the worry evident in his voice as one of his hands wrapped around one of my own. His thumb tracing along the back of it, where the words ‘I must not be so naive’ once were, that I got as punishment for supporting Harry and standing up to her lies in class.

“I know,” I sighed, opening my eyes to see his brown eyes looking down at me.

“I just can’t today, I can’t deal with her voice, or her digs at Harry or her constant refusal to actually teach us magic,” I admitted, frustration lacing my voice, as I ran a hand along his bare chest.

“She’ll hurt you if you’re not there though, love,”

“I know…” I sighed, remembering the sharp pain that shot through my hand when I wrote the words onto the parchment.

“C’mon,” George began, practically jumping out of the bed, causing my face to land on the soft sheet that once held Georges body.

“Georgie…” I whined, pouting my lips as my eyes locked onto his.

“I know you don’t wanna go baby but you need to, I’ll walk you to class and I’ll meet you as soon as it’s finished,”

“She’s just a bully, love, don’t let her win,” George reassured, attempting to lure me out of bed with his words.

“Fine, but don’t blame me if I kill her,” I sighed, sitting up in the bed, rolling my eyes in frustration, as I ran a hand through my hair.

“You wouldn’t kill her, love,” George chuckled as he began to get dressed.

“You seem awfully sure about that,”

“There’s no books in Azkaban and there’s no me, you’d miss my cuddles too much if you got sent there,” he pointed out, placing his tie around his neck.

“You do give very good cuddles,” I stated, kneeling up on the bed, grabbing his tie and placing a long kiss on George's soft lips, attempting (and failing) to pull him back onto the bed.

“Nuh uh uh, I know your game, love and being charming isn’t gonna get you anywhere,” He whispered against my lips, wrapping his arms around my waist and lifting me off of the bed.

Sighing in defeat I grabbed my clothes from the chair that was beside the bed and quickly got dressed.

“Happy now?” I asked, as did the final button up on my shirt.

“Not in the slightest,” George muttered as he hooked his finger under my chin, connecting our lips in a delicate kiss.

“I love you,” he cooed his lips ghosting over mine, his eyes looking deep into mine.

“I love you too,” I mumbled, wrapping my arms around his waist, closing the gap between us. In an ideal world I would just stay here, in this room, my newly found safe haven with the man I loved but we didn’t live in an ideal world and George was right, I had to go to class otherwise I would get another detention. And that would just mean spending more time stuck with her. I just needed to get through this class and then I could be back here with George.

“You’ve got this, love,” George reassured again, pressing a kiss to the side of my head before intertwining our fingers together and pulling me out of the room.

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five-rivers · 3 years

Text

Danger First

Chapter 4

Hiya @pocketramblr

While the other ghosts watched poor Izuku more and more, Yoichi gathered a pile of pillows and beanbags, and a small container of popcorn, then dropped unceremoniously onto the pile, ready to watch a bunch of teens beat the tar out of each other. En noticed this, glanced at him, and did a double-take.

"Since when do you have popcorn? How do you have popcorn? Where did you get it? Have you been holding out on me? Can I have some? I'll fight you!"

"Uh... it isn't real," said Yoichi.

"Neither are we!"

"No, I mean, you can't taste it. Or smell it. It's just a construct. For the aesthetic." Something none of them really bothered with, lately, but Yoichi wanted to put the effort in for Izuku. Even if Izuku probably would never be aware of it.

"But... popcorn..."

"Shhh! It's starting!"

The first round was Kouda and Satou vs Yaoyorzu and Kirishima.

If he had to guess, he'd say Yaoyorozu and Kirishima would win. Yaoyorozu's quirk was perfect for setting up quick and simple barriers and traps, and Kirishima's was good for defense as well.

That wasn't to say Kouda and Satou couldn't win as well... Satou had what seemed to be a fairly powerful strength enhancer, perfect for ripping through hastily constructed defenses, and Izuku didn't know if Kirishima would be able to completely counter him.

Izuku also wasn't entirely sure what Kouda's quirk was. His first guess would have been a physical mutation, given his appearance, but thinking back, it didn't seem like he'd used anything like that during the quirk assessment, so those features were most likely vestigial, like Izuku's hair color, which suggested a less physical quirk. It had to be something that could be applied in combat against robots, though. Izuku was the only one who'd passed without villain points.

So, it could go either way.

He could continue to analyze, but his attention was drawn back to the team he'd be facing. Hagakure and Monoma.

A blush rose up in his cheeks. It had to be Hagakure. He still hadn't apologized for running into her during the entrance exam. Hand to hand against her was going to be tough- he could only hope the support department had given her an invisible costume, and she wasn't... well... uncostumed. Again.

But, beyond that, not being able to see her would be a problem. She could get to the fake bomb without him even noticing.

Monoma would be a challenge, too. Given the number of pocket watches on his costume, Izuku suspected he had a time limit for how long he could copy a quirk. But he had no idea how long that could be, and it could be misdirection, too. Izuku certainly wouldn't want to telegraph a weakness like that if he had that kind of quirk.

Another option could be that he could only hold one quirk copy at a time. That'd be trickier for Izuku to deal with. Either way, he doubted Monoma could permanently hold an unlimited number of quirk copies. Monoma's personality was all wrong for that, and he didn't have Iida's engines anymore- unless he could choose to dump quirks? But why would he do that? Izuku's (formerly) quirkless sensibilities rebelled against the very thought.

He was overthinking this. He'd have to assume that Monoma could come at him with any quirk in the class. So. What would be the most inconvenient? All Might's, except Izuku had All Might's, and Monoma wasn't able to use it.

(Oh, and that could be a problem, couldn't it? Could Monoma be able to tell All Might didn't have a quirk anymore?)

Well, judging from what he was seeing right now, Izuku really didn't want him to take Yaoyorozu's quirk. It was sort of terrifying.

Other scary ones would be Todoroki (he'd launched that ball with a glacier) and Tokoyami (a sentient quirk! So cool!) but he thought Monoma would avoid Shouji and Asui (full body mutations). Other than that... Monoma would probably wait and see who did the best, or which quirk would work best with Hagakure's.

He'd have to take Hagakure's quirk into account, too. What if they both came at him invisibly (and naked)? Izuku would die...

Each battle lasted for up to fifteen minutes, not counting the ten minutes the villain team had to set up. That's how long Izuku had to defend the fake bomb. As the defender, Izuku had another handicap. He only had to fail once to fail entirely...

No. Stop that. This was a school exercise, and All Might wasn't going to expell him. Losing would suck, but he'd be together with half the class on that front. The important thing was learning from the experience. And not getting too hurt.

Right. He returned his gaze to the screen as the match started.

"We're a sentient quirk, too," said Banjo. "Aren't we cool?"

"He doesn't know we're sentient, though," said Yoichi. "Also, he spent like two months straight gushing about how cool One for All was when we were with Eighth. Didn't you get enough?"

Banjo sulked. "It isn't the same."

"Speaking of Monoma," said En, "why didn't you slap his little grabby hands away from One for All yesterday?"

"Because a late bloomer is one thing, but someone confirmed not to have a quirk suddenly having bone-breaking super strength? Yeah. No. Yagi might have beaten my brother, but that doesn't mean everyone who worked for him is gone. Eight never knew about Garaki at all."

"Way to bring down the mood, En," said Banjo, elbowing the younger ghost.

"The mood was already brought down by the fake popcorn."

Izuku wrote furiously in his notebook, trying to record every detail of the match. He pulled one of his gloves off with his teeth to get a better grip on his pencil. He'd need to practice writing with gloves on. He was missing important notes. Speaking of which...

"Can we get copies of these recordings?"

"You should be able to access them through your Ultra Account on the school website!"

Izuku nodded and continued writing. As expected, Kirishima and Satou had gotten into a one on one fight down the hallway from the bomb room. Unexpectedly, however, they had seemed rather hesitant to hit each other. At least, until Satou dumped a packet of white powder (sugar according to All Might) into his mouth and started smacking at Kirishima indiscriminately. Kouda, meanwhile, had sent a small army of mice (animal control! Very cool) at Yaoyorozu, who had responded with mousetraps.

The clock ran out, to the villains' victory.

"It was surprisingly hard to hit someone," admitted Kirishima in the debrief.

"We've been socialized to avoid violence," said All Might, nodding. "Overcoming that hesitation is part of our training. As is when not to use force."

Next up were Kaminari and Sero vs Aoyama and Jirou.

Kaminari entered the building first, quickly engaging Aoyama, who had been directed towards Kaminari by Jirou. That fight got loud quickly. Sero, meanwhile, scaled the outside of the building with his tape.

Kaminari ultimately defeated himself with his own quirk (that was a pretty severe drawback- maybe Kaminari should consider other fighting styles?), which allowed Jirou to hear Sero climbing up the wall. But Aoyama couldn't get back fast enough to prevent Jirou from being captured by Sero.

"I think Kaminari was the MVP," said Izuku. "He did hurt himself, which was bad, but his sacrifice allowed his teammate to safely reach the objective. If he hadn't, um, shorted out...? It would have been better, of course, but..."

Yaoyorozu shook her head. "Sero managed to capture one of the villains and safely reach the bomb. Additionally, he's the one who came up with the plan of attack."

"Ah," said Izuku, "that's- that's true..."

"Regardless, it is a plan that only bore fruit due to teamwork! Excellent work! Jirou, Aoyama, your division of labor was also a good plan, but don't forget the enemies you don't see! Time for our next match!"

This time, Asui and Tokoyami were defending against Todoroki and Uraraka.

"Good luck," Izuku said, waving slightly to Uraraka.

"Thanks!" She gave him two thumbs up as she trailed slightly behind Todoroki. "So," she said, as they walked out through the door, "how are we doing-?"

The door closed. Izuku winced. Surely, they had strategized beforehand...

"Young Todoroki," said All Might, somewhat sternly, "you... that was certainly an impressive display, but even when dealing with real villains, a hero has to be conscious of the damage they may do. A large number of villains are only minor criminals, or even otherwise ordinary citizens having a bad day."

"That's not what the media says," mumbled Todoroki, though he looked pale as medi-bots carried Asui from the scene.

"The media is full of sensationalists. And even if it weren't, Asui isn't a real villain. There is a difference," he said, very gently, "between going beyond and going too far."

All Might paused. Todoroki hunched his shoulders. There was something familiar about his posture, something that made Izuku's stomach knot.

All Might continued. "It was a good strategy. Against another team, or against real villains, it would have been a more than appropriate strategy. In fact, it was even an appropriate strategy in this case, since you didn't know Asui had trouble with cold temperatures. But when you encountered her in the hall and noticed how poorly she was doing, you should have hit the emergency stop button."

Instead of laying down mode ice when Asui struggled to get free, which was what actually happened.

"Why didn't you stop the match?" He didn't sound accusatory. Just flat and resigned.

All Might made a face and gestured to the screens on the wall. About half of them showed static and the rest blurry shades of white and gray. Like the rest of the building, they had been iced over.

Todoroki sighed. "How much trouble am I in?"

"You aren't," replied All Might. "In trouble, that is. As your teacher, this is entirely my responsibility. I shouldn't have set you against Asui or should have gone over safety concerns more clearly..." All Might paused, his face that of someone who knew they weren't getting their point across but didn't quite know what the problem was. "Injuries are inevitable in heroics and hero training, but you don't want to maim your classmates. Or minor villains, really, if you can help it. So... consider this a learning moment."

"But it was just ice," said Kaminari.

"Cold kills people frequently," said All Might. "People lose fingers and toes to frostbite regularly. Again, for anyone but Asui, this level of ice for such a short time period wouldn't have caused lasting damage, but it is something to be mindful of. Does... that make sense, young Todoroki?"

"Yes," said Todoroki, head bowed.

"All right. Young Uraraka, thank you for hitting the emergency stop button. It showed good thinking and good awareness. Young Tokoyami, your decision to hide the bomb in the basement was a good one, complimentary to your quirk."

Izuku glanced over at Monoma. He had a sinking suspicion he knew what quirk he would copy.

After moving to a new building, Iida and Ashido managed to pull a win as heroes from Ojiro and Shouji by melting a hole in the ceiling above the bomb and then jumping through to tag it after Iida confirmed its location with a scouting run. The general consensus of the class was that it was surprisingly clever and out of the box, but that it probably wouldn't have been feasible in real life. Ashido had then sheepishly admitted that she'd come up with the idea after hearing Izuku mumble about it.

This, of course, made Izuku blush. Strawberry would probably bee his nickname from now on.

Better than Deku.

It was his turn to go set up, now.

He was unlikely to be able to beat Hagakure and Monoma at the same time, even if Monoma didn't copy any quirks at all. Assuming they didn't split up, a ridiculous course of action, he'd have to find a way to protect the bomb other than physically defending it.

This was the problem that had been plaguing him all afternoon.

He had to hide it. Then, he either had to hide himself or use his location to steer them away from where the bomb really was. His capture would also lose him the match, so he had to be careful.

He carried the bomb to the top floor. Uraraka's quirk could get them up there, but Izuku didn't think Monoma could handle the nausea. And if he did have a time limit, he wouldn't want to be airborne when it ran out. Sero had demonstrated his quirk could get him up the side of the building, but that had clearly also required a lot of skill in climbing, not just the quirk itself.

Iida's quirk would get Monoma to the top of the building fast, but since he'd have to go room by room... Either way, the top floor would slow them down the most, buy Izuku the most time.

The room he picked was full of prop boxes. Izuku had to rearrange them to completely hide the bomb, and there was a chance Monoma and Hagakure would remember what it looked like before, from the camera feeds, but he hoped they'd overlook it.

He still had time. Next...

The second floor had office equipment in it. Clearly old junk the school didn't mind loosing. Izuku pulled as much of it out into the hallway as he could, his experience from the beach helping him maneuver quickly. He dumped a lot of it into the stairwell. The rest he left in the hallways.

How much time did he have?

Not long.

He ran up the stairs, to the fourth floor, where Ashido had melted a hole in the floor. Here, he had multiple egress points. It would be harder for them to corner him. Also...

He randomly closed half the doors on the floor. He could pretend to be guarding one of them. Delay them. How much longer?

No time at all.

Right on schedule, the air went dry and cold. Izuku, having planned for this, leapt for one of the door frames and held on. A thin layer of ice, not as thick as the one on the floor, crusted over his gloved fingers.

Izuku counted to five, then let his hands slip out of his gloves and dropped to the floor. Then he reached up and tugged his now empty gloves out of the ice.

He inspected the ice momentarily, and tested his ability to move on it. It wasn't as even or as thick as it had been when Todoroki used it, and the surface was a difficult and unpredictable mixture of smooth and rough... but it would become slicker as it melted.

Good. Izuku had predicted this. It made his closed doors and stacked boxes much more formidable obstacles. The ice wouldn't allow doors to open easily, and the boxes would also be reinforced and hard to move.

Izuku was glad for the conversation All Might had with Todoroki. Although it probably hadn't been his intention, the way he had phrased his commentary on Todoroki's freezing strategy had made it seem like an automatic win, given that it wasn't used against someone who'd be seriously injured by it.

Izuku hadn't been sure they'd do it, since it would handicap Hagakure so much. She couldn't walk around on ice barefoot. Unless she had a secondary mutation that made her skin tougher, or less sensitive to temperature- that would be so cool! No, focus, focus.

Monoma wouldn't have Iida's quirk, either with this strategy. Even if was unfamiliar with speed quirks, he would know that high speeds and ice didn't mix... Unless you were a speed skater, Izuku supposed. But Monoma didn't have ice skates- Unless, unless he took Yaoyorozu's quirk and made ice skates. But that would be horribly impractical with this uneven ice, and probably wouldn't work with Iida's quirk at all. So.

He'd probably have Yaoyorozu's quirk anyway. And after that, for this exercise, Jirou's would be the most valuable. With Jirou's quirk, Monoma would be able to locate Izuku quickly.

Another reason to separate himself from the bomb.

They were coming.

He hid himself out of immediate sight, in the room with the hole, on the off chance that Monoma couldn't hold that many quirks.

There was a clatter from the stairwell.

They were coming.

Muffled voices. A louder thump.

"Maybe if you hadn't frozen everything-"

A sort of fwoosh brought an oddly warm breeze and Izuku hissed. Todoroki's quirk must be more than ice. Given his overall appearance... Fire? Izuku was screwed.

Well. Hopefully his precautions would at least get him a good grade.

There were more scrapes and clatters as Hagakure and Monoma forced their way through the stairwell. Then, relative silence.

They were coming.

"I thought you said he was on this floor," said Hagakure, plaintively.

"He must have gotten free," said Monoma.

"Can't you listen for him again?"

There was a pause. Monoma must have responded nonverbally.

"We'll just have to be careful checking everything out," said Hagakure. "The bomb must be on this floor, after all."

Okay. Okay, great, this was good news for Izuku. He eyed the hole in the floor. Part of him really didn't want to jump through. His brain was supplying him with all the things that could go wrong with such a jump. Especially with the layer of ice. Ugh, he should have dragged one of the office desks up underneath it.

Too late now.

Minding his visibility, Izuku crept over to the side of the hole and lowered himself until he was hanging by his finger tips.

It was still a long fall. Monoma and Hagakure's footsteps were growing closer.

He let go.

He tried to hit the ground properly, but his roll turned into a slide, and he hit a wall at a higher speed than he would have liked. Reflexively he grabbed at his left arm. Ow.

He knew this was going to happen.

"He's on the third floor!"

"What?"

"He jumped through Ashido's hole!"

Izuku forced himself to his feet and sprinted towards the stairs. The second floor had more hiding places than the third. At the last minute, something twinged in the back of his mind, and he tried to stop. Tried. The ice made this difficult.

His legs went out from underneath him, and he went skidding down the hallway on his back, taking a mercifully, mercifully, clothed Hagakure out at the ankles. They slid together into the bottom of the stairs descending from the fourth floor, further battering Izuku's poor arm.

He dodged Hagakure's capture tape and briefly considered pulling out his own, but there was Monoma, cautiously coming down the icy stairs.

Icy stairs.

It seemed neither Izuku nor Monoma had fully considered the obstacles that would result from coating a building like this in ice. Todoroki's ability to maneuver easily on this terrain was, in retrospect, a keystone of the 'freeze everything' strategy, not incidental.

He needed to get away.

He pushed Hagakure off of himself (and noted that she was just as muscular as he was) and slid on his knees to the banister. He pulled himself up and slid down the rail, using the ice to his benefit. Using his uninjured arm, he gripped the end of the banister connected to the wall to slingshot himself down the second floor hallway.

... and almost right into a desk he'd half forgotten he'd put there. He dodged it and recovered quickly before scrambling over the other obstacles in the hallway. He came to a scraping halt and tucked himself into the leg well of one of the desks. A convenient bar meant he could keep his feet off the ground and out of sight as well.

Just like hiding from bullies. Only less dangerous and more fun.

How much time was left?

It had taken them about five minutes to get past the desks on the stairs, then maybe two or three to get to the fourth floor? They hadn't been moving quickly, probably because of the ice. Then, they'd been on the fourth floor for another couple of minutes before Izuku dropped to the third, even if it had felt longer to Izuku. The tussle on the third had taken a minute, tops, so he had... Four minutes left? Less, now.

He could win this. He could run out the clock. Maybe it wasn't the most heroic way to win, but he was supposed to be playing the villain, and he hoped Mr. Yagi would be proud of him anyway.

"Show yourself!" called Monoma. "Or I'll freeze you out."

Could he do that? Maybe he had Jirou's quirk at first, but switched to Todoroki's later, and lost access to Jirou's? If only he knew more about how Monoma's quirk worked... It could be a bluff, too. Even if it wasn't, why would he reveal himself? This late in the game, even if he was frozen in place, he could still win.

And winning... it wasn't something he got to do very often.

A buzz signaled the end of the match. "Villains win! Or, rather villain wins? Good job everyone! Come on out for the final debrief."

"MVP, MVP, MVP," chanted Yoichi, Banjo, and En, arms slung around each others' shoulders.

"Our boy is MVP!" cried Banjo.

"You know what this means, of course," said Hikage during a pause in the noise. The other ghosts looked at him. "It means, my quirk is the most valuable. The greatest power in the universe is the power of anxiety."

"Take that back!" said Yoichu, throwing an imaginary kazoo at Hikage. "The most powerful thing in the universe is the power of friendship. Everyone knows that!"

"What about those two?" asked Hikage, pointing at Second and Third.

"Unfortunately, the power of spite is also great," said Yoichi. "Even so, they will soon find themselves defeated."

Nana rubbed her temples. "If I hadn't given up on sanity within ten minutes of waking up in here, this would be what did me in."

After an intense practical, the next stop was the nurse's office. There, the class found Asui already mostly recovered, and Izuku found out that he had, in fact broken his arm.

"Are you sure it isn't just a sprain? It is broken?"

"A fracture, and, yes, quite sure. But a sprain can actually be worse than a break- many true sprains never quite heal correctly... either way, with my quirk you don't have to worry about it." She pressed her lips to Izuku's forehead. He felt his energy ebb to a new low. "You should talk to Mr. Aizawa about falling techniques. Your body type is more like his than your other mentor's."

"I- I will," promised Izuku.

"Good. You can go get changed, now."

"Thanks," said Izuku, not quite wobbling out of the room.

"Midoriya!"

He almost jumped out of his skin. "A-ah! Uraraka!"

"Sorry to startle you!"

"No, no, it's fine. What is it?"

"Oh, well, Iida and I were wondering if you'd like to come out with use to a café after school? It's nearby and apparently it has discounts for UA students?"

"Indeed! My older brother talked about it frequently when he was a student here!"

"W-well," said Izuku. He looked at All Might, who was awkwardly supervising and directing other students in the hallway to the locker rooms. All Might caught his eye and nodded. "Sure! That sounds like fun!"

This would be the last time Shouta would have to nap after school for a while. From tomorrow on, he'd be alternating quirk counseling with Midoriya with hero work. Why did he agree to do this again?

Kan opened the door to the break room. With him came the acrid smell of smoke and hot dust. "Which companies did the first year costumes this year?" he asked, voice dangerously soft enough to impress Aizawa.

"Why?" asked Hizashi.

"Because I want to... talk to whoever thought it was a good idea to give a fifteen-year-old with no training in demolition not one, but two weapons that could level buildings at full charge. I just want to talk."

Judging by the expression on Kan's face, Shouta seriously doubted that.

Kan took a deep breath. "What about your hellions?"

"Don't know. Yagi had them today."

"And you didn't watch?"

"I was in court."

"What's wrong with Yagi, anyway?"

Shouta, Hizashi, and Kan all turned to where Yagi was splayed in a chair. If the scene were a painting, it could easily be titled 'depression.'

"I'm a failure as a teacher and a hero," he moaned.

"Huh?" said Hizashi. "Why?"

"Young Asui nearly became hypothermic, and young Midoriya fractured his arm."

There was a beat of silence as the others waited for him to go on.

"What?" Kan asked. "Is that it?"

#bnha #boku no hero academia #fic #fanfic #danger first #danger first au

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chaos-caffeinated · 4 years

Text

Emotions can help you remember Part 3 (Sebastian Michaelis x reader)

Okay this is it, those words say everything you need to know, enjoy!

update: Oct/06/2020: To compensate for the part, I completed the story.

Like I said -did I even say it?- I am an overachiever...and a sucker for plot

Not requested (Tagging @naniky)

NSFW/T - 18+

Smut, lemon

One more thing: Do not forget I am not the only author, my brother and I share this blog for the sole reason of creating content together as well as maintaining an easy access to our stories. Just look under #caffeine for more stories from him, the media he does, previous works, requests/commissions/, and what he is willing to write and not write.

Okay, NOW onto the story: Enjoy!

I wrote this part incredibly long that I just had to make another part, which will be uploaded in the next hour (October 31, 1pm). If you would like to be reminded, just click on the button on the top right corner (if mobile) and select “get notified”.

“Though it’s good, it’s not fluent enough. Again.” Sebastian ordered, his facial expression was laced with the strictness of his voice. His eyebrows were knitted behind his delicate oval glasses that were chained for easy access. He held a short whip that caught your attention each time he smack it onto his hand, sometimes wondering to ask him if it hurt to whip himself.

Flinching from the sound, you involuntarily let out a whimper before gazing at the text before you, “Ce soir, je serai donné à l’obscurité, je n’ai que moi-même au prince des ténèbres. Oh Crow permettent à mon corps d’aider dans votre plaisir que votre vie s’est propagée avec la douleur que l’humanité comme elle l’a-a...a...^1” You felt burned out, your voice no longer being able to read off the text that Sebastian had you reading, emphasizing the importance of pronunciations.

Sebastian, on the other hand, was enjoying the moment you were casting yourself off to him, simply smiling behind his façade of strict teacher. Once you finished your speech you would his for the night, but he flinched when you stuttered towards the end, his attention towards you made him realized you looked tired, “Sebastian...I’m sorry, but I...I am so tired...French is not my strength, I am so sorry.” You gazed downwards, too ashamed to even look at him in the eye. You felt the constraining corset shift underneath as you crossed your arms, disappointed at yourself.

Before he could sigh subtly, his brain had racked up the idea to try something. He smirked widely, his eyes glinting the mischief with the intertwined lust.

“It is unfortunate, Miss. (L/N), but you have four days before the ball, and I’m sure you want Miss. Hopkins to be delighted upon your return without a language barrier, right?...”

“...Y-yes.” You confirmed, saddening at the fact that you may potentially be upsetting her.

“Well then, I hope you realize I have a couple tricks under my sleeve, however, some may deem it as unorthodox because of its-” he used the thin stick in his hand to whip the desk, his free hand placed on the mahogany desk leaning over slightly, hovering over your body. Your head whipped upwards where you immediately came face to face with the handsome butler/tutor, to which your cheeks were tinted with a slight pink hue from the closeness between you.

“Physicality.” He finished with a smirk, “Of course I need your permission, but time waits for no one my lady.” He adds as he rose the tip of baton from in-between your collarbones up to your chin with a light tap. You subconsciously tipped your head back lightly in response to the baton to which he responded with a subtle smirk. When you heard his sultry voice, you almost swore to hearing a purr at the end.

Entranced by his proximity, you gulped subtly and let out your respond:

“Yes....Sebastian.”

“Then we shall start immediately.” And he closed in by pressing his lips against your lips, one second secure and passion, the next dominant and rough. You let out a soft meek as you were trying to push against him, but he was strong. You sensed he wanted more, hence why he was rough enough to lean you back.

He removed himself, smirking and revealing the fang as he lick his lips lightly, “I hope you are ready, Miss. (L/N), for I am not lenient.” And he stood up, “Stand.” He commanded, raising the baton to visually represent his command as you obeyed.

You watched as he made his way behind the desk, but you looked ahead as you were afraid of anything sudden.

He made his way to where you sat and the chair scraped along the floor.

“Sit.” He ordered, and you sat down to an unfamiliar seat when you realized the firmness and slight shift underneath. You blushed as you realized you sat on his lap.

You trembled softly as you felt as he placed his hands on your hips as he adjusted both of you, “You will read and translate the words I point, if you fail, I will punish you accordingly. Ready?”

You nodded, “Yes, S-Sebastian.”

With a smug look, he pointed at a word of ease to get you comfortable. This went on for a couple dozens of words before he began to challenge you: adding feathery touches to your back, causing you to flinch.

“And this one?...” He leant by your ear, his voice having a slight rasp as he ushered.

While his gloved finger lightly traced your back, your body shivering from the touch, your voice faltered from it, “Uhm...eh...p-plaisir^2...”

“A stutter, Miss. (L/N)? When the ball is in session, I’m sure you’ll have someone like this as well. You can’t be distracted with this simple touch.” He took his forefinger and traced down your spine, making your cheeks blush again from the vulnerability.

“...S-so what’s my punishment, then?...”

“You want to be punished? Hm~...I’ll speak two paragraphs in French and you’ll translate them.”

Groaning as you had trouble listening and understanding, you took a deep breath and sighed, “Fine...”

“Good. Now...Dès que je t’ai posé les yeux, j’ai étré enchanté par ta beauté. J’avais espéré que vous travaillions pour Mlle Hopkins, et vous avez fait votre preuves devant elle ainsi que le jeune maître; talentueux et belle, je te voulais. Je vous ai dans mes mains, votre cœur bat vite, votre corps est à la chasse d’eau- Je sais que vous me voulez tout aussi bien, et à tout moment vous vacillez dans vos leçons Français, je vais m’assurer que vous souvenez de mes mains, mon corps, ma voix. Vous ne m’oublierez jamais aussi bien que la belle langue de Français.^3“

You couldn’t concentrate while he was caressing your back. Images flashed in your mind and you were shy to even have them possessed into your brain. You were fantasizing about being fondled, his hands caressing in other places, to have your own hands running through his raven locks. You wanted it all. However, when he spoke you understood some wording, his distinct pronunciation brought the sense of familiarity which gave you the confidence to translate his message, making you blush in the process as you processed the message.

The more you spoke, the more Sebastian grew with anticipation. As you finished, he had held your hip, without moving his digits and whispered into his ears, “Good, now for a reward. (Y/N). Tell me, are you in any way against of my teachings?”

“...N-no...” you shyly confessed, “Please...keep it going...I do believe it’s helping me.”

His smirk widen, enough to reveal the fangs, “Good.” He whispered, “Then from now on...nous parlons dans Français ^4.”

(From this point on, it will all be english, I promise. I just thought this was fun)

You let out a gasp when he rose his hands, groping your breasts as his lips grazed on the back of your shoulders; he let out whispers you were able to catch, only to respond with the same whispered voice. Each word he spoke out you would be given a kiss from his soft, yet rough lips onto your warm flesh. His hands lingered over your breasts, his fingers rubbing your clothed-areolas triggering them to harden.

“Tell me how are you feeling, (Y/N). Describe it.” He pulled back his hands as he teasingly, irritatingly, slowly removed your dress to expose your soft skin to his greedy mouth and hands. He removed his gloves to expose his black nails and the Faustian contract that linked his current master and him as property as he was currently ready to devour a mortal body in front of him, “Tell me, (Y/N)...what do you want me to do to you?”

“I...I feel like...my skin is on fire, like I want more just to get rid of it, but...but I like it...I like the feeling of your hands on me...I never want it to stop... I know I want more, I want to feel you everywhere...” You let out shaky breaths as you tried to muffled your moans in, your chest heaving as you gazed down to see his right hand placed on your abdomen area and you gently grabbed it, leading it back to your breast. His touch alone was driving you wild, craving for more as you tried so hard to hold back; believing that you were strong only to fall back.

Sebastian hummed in response, "Then so be it." Where his hands were located, he easily held you down while bucking his hips, earning a few mewls from you, and your head lulling back as your chest arched forward. You hated how your body betrayed your logical side, falling into the temptation that you thought you had handled, but it was only destroyed from his presence, from his words, from his eyes.

He bunched up the skirt so your clothed womanhood would be pressed against his clothed bulge, your moaning raised slightly to place your hands on the top of the desk, immediately interrupting the craze. You were panting, you were blushing, you were craving for more of his hot touches that got your body to get tingles, “...It is overwhelming...how is it that your so good to get me so desperate like this?...You are like the devil everyone warns to stay away from...” You attempted to take control of your body again, but you felt something pressed against you as you not only felt a hand on your hip, but another placed in front by your hand.

Sebastian was even more entranced, while you felt he was responsible for your craze, he blamed you for his craze towards you. Other people would feel guilt while in the bliss of pleasure, others feel a sense of betrayal for their partners, others feel used when the Head Butler of Phantomhive seemed to be intriguing enough to have his attention, but when there isn’t a direct order from Ciel to gather information, to get them to cooperate, he feels a sense of ferality since his interest is purely internal. His plans were to make you his; you can be feisty, you can be yourself, he was most amazed that a simple being such as yourself can manage to stir a demon with their core motivations. He just wanted you, but there were instances where he believed he was doing this because he was to be yours, and that did not sit well with him, which is why he would do everything to get you to submit to him first.

When Sebastian stood up, the chair sliding back, he pressed against you, "Are you scared of me?" He whispered into your ear, "Because I can assure you that even the devil can open your eyes to reality...” He taunts as he raised his hand to caress your exposed arm with his fingertips then grazing them with his black nails before placing on top of yours, interlacing with your fingers.

You whined desperately, turning your head slightly to glance at Sebastian who was smirking. Once again your flesh burned with passion as you feel him start discard your undergarments, the idea that you two were getting closer and closer to bond was filling you up with anticipation, with more shivers down your back. What surprised you was to see each piece of your dress in front of you as he asked you what they were called: he wanted you to continue to learn despite the situation you two were in.

"What is this?" He asks as he takes off each material. You grunted as he was testing your French by having you name every single material. Each time he removed something he would ask you and it was getting annoying. It was torture, hell, trying so hard not rip anything apart to get closer to become one.

After what felt like an eternity of hell of torture, you were naked in front of him. You realized how vulnerable you were in the position, offering yourself to the Head Butler of the Phantomhives and that made you cower slightly. Trembling, you tried to close up when you felt two soft hands placed on your back.

"Such a magnificent body you have, it's no wonder why everybody else wants you. Beauty like this deserves to be shown off...,but at this moment, and moments like these...you are mine alone." He whispered to you only, his ushered tone had a growl towards the end, like a predator growling in victory towards its prey. His fingers trailed up your back to the nape of your neck and held it in place as the other groped your breast.

You wondered when he had the opportunity to unbuckle his pants, but you shivered once you felt the head of his cock rubbing against your clit, a wanton moan releasing as your body pressed against him almost out of instinct.

"Mmm, desperate for more?~" Sebastian teased as he smirked devilishly, holding you in place as he rejected to further your pleasure.

"Please....please, Sebastian." You begged, tearing up, "Please..." you panted as you swayed your hips in an attempt to tempt him further.

Sebastian smirked and remained like that only to hear and see you move less and less. You tried waiting patiently, tried, but you simply closed your eyes and imagined the scenarios that made you blush. As you imagine him, your thoughts were quickly interrupted as he guided you to bend over the desk as he held your hips, "Distracted yet again, Miss. (L/N), my my. You are one persistent student, aren't you?" He snapped his hips towards, his cock rubbing against your entrance which startled you, "Patience 'will get you anywhere and everywhere', my dear." He reminds you before he proceeded to enter.

As you stiffened from the pressure of his member stretching you, you let out a strained moan as your hands gripped the edge of the table. Even Sebastian groaned subtly as you tightened around him and he calmly rubbed your back in a soft manner, "...W-was...Was this your first time?" He caught his breath as he eased the thrusting by removing himself until the hilt.

You involuntarily let out a breathy moan as he returned, thrusting in a steady pace. Each thrust felt more good and pleasurable than the last before you your hips pressed back against him. You even arched your back as you press back to feel his hips slap against you. The pace was increasing ever slightly, his breaths were audible as he let out breathy moans with your vocal ones. He had an immense grip on your hips that bruises were going to appear, but you didn’t mind. You would have to deal with that in the near future, at the moment you getting taken care of very good by the butler.

Sebastian let out a soft chuckle as he removed himself and proceeded to sit on the chair. You gasped and whined from frustration when you looked over your shoulder to see him sitting, his erection was resting against abdomen; the image alone was an unholy sight, for he had achieved his core motivation.

The way his hand rolled over to curl his finger into a “come hither” motion made you and your body responded by flowing with his hand. You turned around and watched as he accommodated his sitting position for you to sit on him once again. Facing forward, you rested your knees beside his thighs and remained uplifted as you stared into his enchanting crimson red eyes. His smirk widen -his bloody smirk- as he leaned forward to nip at your flesh. His arms entangled you in an embrace, but he held you down; he had successfully trapped you fully, he had you, not the other way around he thought you intended.

You took a deep breath as you felt him once more, but this time it felt different. The way he held you, the way he gazed into your eyes as your back arched and your head leaned back, mindlessly staring at the ceiling. He leaned forward once again only to lick at your mounds and made suckling motions over your harden nipples. His right arm wrapped around your waist and held you down as he thrusted into you unexpectedly with a steady speed.

Moaning and instinctively placing your hands through his raven locks, you tilted your head down only to look straight into his devilish eyes. He pulled away from your nipples as you tugged at his locks; his eyebrows twitched subtly as they furrowed slightly; lips were agape as he panted softly. There were sweat beads decorating his pale face as he let out soft moans, your blush darkening from the mysterious man himself,

“Are you e-enjoying the view, Miss. (L/N)?” He asked in his best attempt of a flustered tone, “You’ve gone back to your head once again, and just how would you feel good if trapped in there?” He bucked his hips which made you buck your hips in response. He pulled your body at an angle which trigger a hyper vocal activity, even your hand left his hair to cover your own mouth, closing your eyes to sense him intensely than before. There was an intense tingling sensation as your body took over control to reach their goal too.

As the speed and pressure built up, you had the courage to not only sit back up, but wrap your arms around his neck, curving forward so your mouth latched onto his neck, biting into it as he stiffened from the sudden move.

You had reached a point that you desperately wanted to increase the speed from how close you were, grinding against him; knowing him already, you were the one that had to obtain it instead of asking.

Sebastian was completely thrown off guard from the bite, his nails puncturing your skin as he stood up with you in his arms and laid you on the top of the desk, his hands gripping on your thighs, bruises would be appearing in a while, but he didn’t care as he aid in your goal, “A naughty girl indeed..” He panted, his eyes darkening, “Marking me in such a way is unforgivable...now I have no choice to reciprocate your feelings-”

Before you can even comprehend his intentions, you felt a sharp pain on your shoulders, your back arched forward as you cried out in pain, “S-sebastia-”

A hand covered your mouth, your voice muffled as he moaned as well into your shoulder.

As you came onto his girth member, he remained still as he tried to hold off, even his body shivered from the denial- the torture he put himself into when he purposely holds himself from pouring his pleasure into you. As your body shivered and bucked into the pleasure, you simply held onto him as you rode out your orgasm, the sensation of the building pressure continue to overwhelm, the feeling of pushing him off whilst holding him close was a dilemma.

As your eyes closed, you can feel him shift, you hear the rustling of clothes in a quick, yet slow manner. Instead of the clothes, you focused on yourself: your legs slightly shaking, your chest heaving as you breathed heavily, your cheeks burning, your body freezing from the sweat that had gone out to refresh you from the hot man in front of you.

Slowly, you opened your eyes to see him dressed up already. His deep red eyes maintained fixed on you as he fixed his tie, his smirk plastered on his facial features, “Miss. (L/N), I do believe the lesson over for now, I think it’s best for you to rest.” He offered his hand towards you while you just had come down from the high. You felt queasy, but it wasn’t it. No, you felt lighter, you felt fresh for some reason. Could the taboo act made you much bolder, could it have made you more experienced?

“...My dress.” You managed to croak out in English, your voice sounded hoarse and you blushed from embarrassment as your hand hovered over your mouth.

“Oh my...I think overstepped my boundaries a bit, my apologies my lady, I will prepare some tea to soothe your voice...We don’t want our lesson to go to waste.” He spoke in a matter-of-fact. You blushed as you averted your eyes from his as you nodded, “Y-yes...”

“Yes?” Sebastian’s eyebrow quirked slightly which you quickly corrected, “I mean, ‘Oui, monsieur’.”

When you saw him smile in a satisfied manner, you nearly sighed in relief, but you were now flustered and quiet from the ‘lesson’ that he performed to help you learn French. Without a doubt it left an impression you, an act of intimacy and vulnerabilities in a lovemaking surely stirred things up to help you remember words -events- more effectively.

While you were thinking, Sebastian helped you back in your dress, “I have to say, I didn’t know of such a strong bite from you, my lady. It was certainly an eye-opener.” He explained as he helped with a few items. When he got to the corset, he lifted you onto your feet and turned you around, “Hopefully you don’t forget about our time like...this” he whispered as he guided his hands across your abdomen which you instinctively let out a breathy moan, “Y-yes...I’m sure I’ll never forget about the event...” you stabled yourself as he pulled on the corset only to make you gasp from how tight he was pulling.

After a couple minutes, you both cleaned up the area and headed to your room to rest. Your voice felt raspy, nearly gone. When a surprise visit from Ciel caught your attention to ask about your lessons, Sebastian intervened for you, “I apologize young master, but realizing that Miss. (L/N) is tight on schedule for the ball, I had a trick under my sleeve to ensure she would capture the lesson, but...I believe I was too harsh on her.” He smirked lightly which you forced yourself to nod.

“...L-lost my voice a bit...” you confirmed, “But it’s not like a cup of tea won’t help.”

Ciel nodded slightly, glaring at Sebastian, “I’m sorry as well, I know Sebastian can be too rash with his studies, but if he does it again you can tell me. I’ll be in my office if needed- Sebastian, I want cake when you’re finished.” and he proceeded to walk to his study room.

“Yes, my lord.” Sebastian responded before guiding you to his bedroom.

“Couldn’t have been more obvious?”, You bit as you rested your hand on your neck.

Sebastian chuckled behind his fist as he arrived to the room, opening the door for you, “If you wanted me to, I could have.”

“You really have no shame, Mr. Michaelis, but please...I ask that you keep this our secret...I don’t want you to get in trouble as well as I...” You asked of him as you entered the room to sit on the bed.

Sebastian placed a hand over his chest as he leaned forward wit his eyes closed, “As you wish, I will keep it between us.” He stood up once again with his eyes open halfway.

You smiled small as you leaned against your hands behind you, “You’re so...intriguing Sebastian. One moment you are a shadow, the next...uhm, you are almost a beast, and right after that you are....back to a shadow- how?...” You sat up, “I’m...beyond tired- very tired- and you are still up and going to complete your duties.”

Unnecessary to withhold his smirk, his half-lid eyes glanced on your way, “Your observational skills never cease to overwhelm me, Miss. (L/N), however..” his voice got more stern as he got closer, “ I have mentioned before that if you look into someone, you might regret it later, so I advise you my lady to keep at bay..”

The closer he got, the more you look up to stare into his eyes, challenging him, “Temptation rises when provoked, so I suggest you stop provoking me, Mr. Michaelis. Because we...intertwined in a forbidden act, you opened the doors to temptation, my... I even have to take care of myself in order to walk through those doors again...”

The corners of his lips curved slightly, Sebastian took your statement into consideration, but as entertained as he was to continue this conversation, his duties in the manor made him realize he had to cut it short, “I do have a few ways to cure that, my lady.” he suggested, his tone completely changed from the previous ominous tone to the mischievous one he possessed earlier.

“Keep your tricks in your sleeve, please. I’m already exhausted from...your lesson there.” You huffed with a flustered face as you avoided eye contact once again. However, you failed to realize just how close he gotten. He reached out to your chin and pulled you close to him, “My lady, I have many tricks under my sleeve that I am not afraid to show you...four days is all I need.” He smirked darkly as he pulled away with a cheerful smile as he closed his eyes for the moment one again, “I will be right back with the tea as promised. In the meantime, please do relax and rest your voice...madam.” he added and proceeded to close the door behind him.

He left you speechless, knowing full well that his tricks were just promises ready to occur.

When Sebastian reached to the kitchen, he couldn’t help but rest against the door for a moment. After taking a deep breath, he chuckled darkly as he placed a hand over his face, “Sweet, sweet (Y/N), you drive me into a deep craze.” The hand hovered the side of the neck you bit him at. He was serious when he said you had a strong bite, and it wasn’t just that of muffling your moans. He strolled over to the counter and took out a knife to use as a mirror. He lowered his collar and managed to see a bruised bite-mark on his neck. His smirk widen and he clicked his tongue as he placed down the knife, “You’re a feisty one; I admire that.” He smiled darkly as he removed his coat to prepare the young lord his dessert.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~4 Days later~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The music was soft and inviting, a subtle siren in your head to set the atmosphere of the ball. It was a slow drag from the violins which gave you strength to take a deep breath and walk forward to the crowd whom were laughing.

Ciel was conversing with a man -the truth being the other way around-, commenting and opinionating of events that bore the young master to a tremendous level, but he remained to act as if he was in interest to the best of his ability to focus on capturing a special guest. When the nobleman excused himself after recognizing an acquaintance, Ciel called forward Sebastian who stood behind him, “Sebastian, keep an eye on Miss. (L/N) and anyone she is speaking with, there may be a chance that she’s talking with him at this moment-” as he gave him his order, Ciel spotted you with someone casually talking in French. He stood there slightly impressed at your proficiency and commented instead, “Miss. (L/N) has a lot of confidence with her French, she even looks different from before.”

Sebastian smiled with his eyes closed as he respond, “Thank you my lord, it took a little more effort due to the time restraint, but additional teachings were added to ensure proficiency.”

Ciel eyed him for a moment, “Additional teachings? It didn’t involve something like close proximity did it?” He asked with a near disgust that his demon butler would go that far, but not surprised if he revealed the information.

Placing a finger over his lips, Sebastian responded, “Miss. (L/N) has asked me not to disclose any information regarding our situation young lord, but that should already tell you.”

Ciel’s eyebrow twitched before releasing a sigh, “...Unfortunately, it did.”

When he turned back to look at you, he audibly gasped when he didn’t see you there anymore, “Sebastian, track her.” He ordered with a slight urgency in his voice,

Bowing his head, Sebastian replied, “yes, my lord.” and he walked from his master to find you.

While the dynamic duo were talking, you were having a conversation with someone that was visiting a friend. It became so casual and so friendly that the two of you had walked over to the table to take a few pieces of snacks.

His name was Jacque Arias, born into a family that dealt with the fabric industry in South France, you thought having a good friendship with him would help Miss. Hopkins with future business after you explained to him that you worked as a tailor for her.

As you took a drink from your glass, he spoke: “I am so relieved to finally have something to go to, if I had to stay in the office one more night I would have gone insane.”

“So you like parties to distract yourself from work?”

He nods, “Yes, and to meet lovely ladies that could potentially be my future wife, like yourself.” He smiled small with a slight tilt of his head.

You blushed from hearing this, stiffening slightly, “Searching for a wife? Me? Surely you gist, sir. I am merely just a tailor intern.” You explain to him, ‘At least for the time being, I like having those small arguments with Sebastian,’ you admitted in thought.

He reached forward to your hand only to caress, "A beautiful intern no less-...it maybe my imagination, but perhaps the party has tire me out. Shall we go somewhere more...silent? Somewhere we can be more intimate?"

You were ready to say no, already losing the interest of a business partner potential. If he wanted to marry you, for some reason you felt it was your choice to choose, and you wanted to choose someone that perhaps wasn't necessarily available to be taken, and you responded, "I don't want to offend you, but-"

He took your hand in his and lightly started guiding you out, "Then let's enjoy nature together." He suggested, "I...I don't-" You glanced around to see the mysterious man himself offering glasses to the guests, but he also glanced at your way. You noticed the faint smirk before he tilted his head forward, 'Go.' You felt him say before he went back to attend with the rest of the guests.

Almost feeling your body going light, you then followed the man ahead of you with a light smile.

It was chilly, your skin shivered to make some warmth, "Are you cold? I'll call up my carriage." He offered as he took off her coat, "In the meantime, here." He placed the coat over your shoulders, "I'll be right back." And he walked with a rushed speed.

You were surprised to see his nice side as he was going to get the carriage. You were suddenly curious about taking his offer, but you wanted to reject by the interaction at the table. Giving him the second chance to see him truly, you decided to wait outside than inside where it was warm.

Waiting patiently for a couple minutes, you felt your body shiver once again, but you subconsciously glanced around. You felt like someone was staring at you- stalking you. It felt uneasy for you, your hands tightening the coat around your body while you made your way back to the manor so you would at least be with someone before you spotted someone in pitch black. You almost called out his name until your eyes widen at the revelation.

While the ball was still in place and everyone was blissful at the moment, with the earl holding in his disinterest in people and balls overall, Sebastian kept a close connection with you. He immediately recognized the man you were with and knowing how humans seemed to be believe they were mated with one intense session, he just had to play the role of the silent lover, granting the permission for you to be with the next chaperone,

The atmosphere was filled with a wave of chattering, the laughter whether genuine or filled with arrogance, Sebastian could listen to all with depth. He listened to the piece played by the string quartet and multi-task with his butler duties. Suddenly, he heard a change in the quartet, a new piece was to be played and he listened.

The violins and violoncello were stroked rapidly in the next piece that it threw people off guard. They were not expected such an allegro tempo from the players: notes raised, dropped, the moments of silence, the notes raising a subtle anxiety from the audience even Sebastian felt it. He felt the anxiety, he felt -for a moment- his heart beating faster and faster and he turned to glance at the young master only for him to just watch the quartet as well. In that instant, he heard your panting with his demonic ears, it was the only thing that stand out from the silent crowd and the musicians ahead of him.

He strolled to the head of the family and bent over at his height only to whisper by his ear to prohibit eavesdropping. While Ciel watched ahead, his full attention was for the demon.

“Sebastian, I order you to find him and bring both of them back here after the ball.” He ordered with the ushered tone as the butler replied: “Yes, my lord.” before smirking at the slight liberation in his current state.

Previous Part/ Final Part

~Translations~

1: Tonight I will be given to the darkness, I have but myself to the prince of darkness. Oh Crow allow my body to help in your pleasure as your life has been done with the pain that humanity as it (cut out: brought/ apporté.)

2:Pleasure

3: “Good Now...”The moment I laid my eyes on you, I was enchanted by your beauty. I had hoped you worked for Miss. Hopkins, and you proved yourself in front of her as well as the young master; talented and beautiful, I wanted you.

I have you in my hands, your heart is beating fast, your body is flushing- I know you want me just as well, and at any moment you falter in your French lessons, I will make sure you remember my hands, my body, my voice. You will never forget me as well as the beautiful language of French is in your possession.”

4. we will speak in French

A/N: Tell me why I spent over 45 minutes searching the music sheet for the Diabolic Waltz and Danse Macabre (Can you blame me? It’s amazing work.) only to confirm or learn from parts where in the music because I am an overachiever and I go all out when I attempt to describe the music without being “the music played louder” come on, I didn’t spend two years in the marching band and be discriminated for being a woman and a semester in Music Appreciation in college for NOTHING- TEMPO, FORTE (Brother save me, this is my call for you to save me, this has gone way too far even for my own sake).

P.S. I am saying it again: Do not forget about my brother, Caffeine, he makes exclusive and waaaaay better stories than I. Just look under #caffeine for more of his content as well as a list of the media he covers for any requests/commissions.

#black butler #sebastian michaelis #sebastian michaelis x reader #sebastian michaelis smut #sebastian michaelis nsft #kuroshitusji #sebastian michaelis x reader smut #chaos

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