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weasleyreidstyles · 4 months

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Serendipity

chapter eleven

summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.

no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. all characters are aged up to be over 18.

pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader

warning(s): fighting, mentions blood, more angst lol

series masterlist; previous part; next part

The three of you sit in varying states of unrest beside Ron's hospital bed.

Hermione was still gripping his hand, as if her touch would entice him to wake up; Ginny was throwing a ball against the nearest wall as she quietly chatted to Mione, ignoring the glares of annoyance from the matron every time her ball made a thwack sound against the stone; you were sat on one of the uncomfortable chairs, a copy of 'Mythical Lore' in your lap, your eyes darting to and from Ron's chest to check that he was still breathing. Harry was Merlin knows where, but you knew he'd be back soon, never willing to leave his friends in distress for too long.

It had been like this for hours. Your tears had dried up and your anger had simmered away slowly; all that was left was the hollow feeling of helplessness and despair as you sat there.

Helpless against the poison that was slowly leaving Ron's bloodstream.

Helpless against forces that harmed your friends.

Helpless to whatever was happening to you.

A monster is what you were. A mythical, dangerous monster. Your gut churned with unease.

The somewhat peaceful atmosphere was interrupted as the doors to the Hospital Wing behind you burst open in a flurry that alerted Madame Pomfrey instantly.

"What is the meaning of this?" she said to whoever had appeared in the doorway. You swivelled in your seat to see, noting Ginny's incredulous look and Hermione's annoyed one, which could only mean one thing.

"Where is my Won-Won?" the squeaky voice of Lavender Brown sliced through the calm. "Cormac McClaggen told me he was here but I didn't believe him."

Madame Pomfrey tutted at her dramatics and pointed the girl in the direction of where you were all sat. You tensed at the blazing heat simmering in Lavender's eyes as she looked between Hermione's hand in Ron's.

"Y'alright Brown?" you say with a grimaced smile, discontent with the fact that you knew the other two wouldn't dare to speak. "Ron's been out for a few hours. Should be cognisant properly in a week's time."

Apparently you'd taken to snarky remarks to cover up your terror at the fact that he had not so much as stirred from his dreamless sleep. She turns to you then, her features betraying how worried she was for her boyfriend, but she had let jealousy rear its ugly head.

"And what is she doing here?" she hisses, pointedly looking at Hermione as you and Ginny share bewildered looks.

"Well-" you say, awkwardly glancing between the girls, "Well they're friends aren't they?"

"Yes well, you're friends with Theodore Nott, but it's so obvious that you're fucking each other behind closed doors." she snaps and you gape at her in disbelief. "Forgive me if I don't think that Granger's intentions are any less pure."

"I am not fucking Theodore." you jibe, throwing a whithering glare at Ginny who had let out a loud snort at Lavender's self assured statement.

"I've been friends with him for longer than he knew of your existence." Mione snapped, not letting go of Ron's hand, scowling as Lavender lets out a catty laugh.

"You're joking right? The two of you haven't had a civil conversation in weeks. But I suppose you want to make up with him now that he's all interesting." she says shrilly and its Ginny who whirls on her this time.

"You call being poisoned interesting? Are you that dim?" she questions and Lavender's resolve jostles only slightly.

Suddenly, Ron's features contort in discontent.

"Oh look at that." Lavender says smugly, eyes flicking to Hermione's grimacing face. "He senses my presence."

You yelp as she practically shoves you away from where you are sat, leaning over to peak at her boyfriend's face as it twitches with his dreams. He begins to mumble something that you can't make out and Lavender begins to encourage him to speak up, as if he'd be able to hear her.

You just stare at the back of the girl's head in annoyance until she staggers away, mouth agape with shock. You're confused until you hear it for yourself.

"Her- Mione. Mione. Mione." he chants her name like a siren's song.

Hermione smiles gently and her thumbs caresses his hand softly as he continues to mumble incoherently in his sleep. Lavender lets out a broken exhale and promptly flees the ward. You pity her in that moment. Not even the most incorrigible of people deserve that kind of betrayal.

The three of you are silent as you watch Ron. But he's sound asleep again. Still, as if it had been a combined figment of your imaginations. You stand to make the matron aware of this development, playfully shoving Ginny away as she taunts you.

"I can't believe she thought you and Nott are fucking." she laughed. "Unbelievable."

"Shut up." you berate her and she lets out a giggle before replying in a barely hidden whisper.

"Wrong Slytherin Prince, right?"

She smirks as you throw up a middle finger towards her as you reach the matron's office on the other end of the Hospital Wing.

~∞~

Somehow you've mastered the accute art of stealth.

In the week that has passed, you have managed to drift through the castle halls without so much as crossing paths with any of the Slytherin group. Partly due to the fact that you spent your time in the Hospital Wing with a near-cognisant Ron, in classes or in your dorm. You didn't dare go to the Room of Requirement or the library and you were eternally grateful that it was not your week to do the nightly Patrols.

Ancient Runes proved to be a difficult feat, but you somehow coerced a fellow Ravenclaw to switch seats with you in exchange for completing the next essay so that they could focus on training for the quidditch match at the end of the week. Under normal circumstances you would've abhorred the idea of it, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

You could feel his eyes practically burning holes to the back of your head in all your shared classes, and you felt him in the corridors, but you didn't dare give in. You didn't want to see him. Couldn't bare to face him.

Mattheo was restless and agitated. All week long you wouldn't so much as look at him, let alone deign to spend an ounce of time with him. He was worried.

When you slammed the common room door in his face a week ago, he had reluctantly confessed to his friends about what the two of you had discovered; each of his friends were wholly willing to help him find a way to help you, if only he could tell you the good news.

And he'd tried. He'd reached over the tether that had connected your mind to his, but each time he was met with an offensive wall of dark stone. You'd blocked him out completely, and he would've been impressed if he wasn't so desperate to hear your voice.

Now he knows how you must've felt all those weeks ago, but it's different now. Now there are feelings involved. Now he doesn't know how to cope without your snark and sarcasm.

When he found Jeremy Stretton sat in your seat in Ancient Runes he found his reigned in emotions snapping. Especially when he saw that you were sat in the front, happily chatting away to Hermione and one of the Patil twins, waiting for Professor Babbling to turn up. He doesn't know why the sight of the Chaser makes his blood boil.

Mattheo slammed his hands onto the desk, bringing his face level with Stretton's, who had looks up in startled alarm. Mattheo was seething, and he didn't particularly care that everyone was beginning to peer curiously at the scene that was beginning to unfold.

"What the fuck are you doing at my table, Stretton?" he snarled, eyes narrowing as his hands tightened around the lip of the desk.

To his credit, Jeremy shook off his stupor and looked at Mattheo obstinately.

"I'm sitting in my seat, Riddle. Problem?" the Ravenclaw chaser replied, challenge flaring in his oceanic eyes.

Mattheo's glare became venomous.

"That...is not...your seat." he said slowly, his voice low and dangerous. He could see you standing up in his peripheral, looking as if your going to intervene, but Granger stops you with a hand to your shoulder, a look of incredulity on her face. "I suggest you move, before I move you myself."

"Well actually," Stretton says with a barely there smirk, "I think you'll find that it is my seat. I don't know why it's taken her so long to do so, but Meadow practically begged me to swap and I can only oblige to her wishes."

He sees red almost instantly and Stretton's shirt collar finds its way into the clenched fists of Mattheo's hands, his hot breath fanning over the Ravenclaw's smirking face. He now knows why fury coats his every being with a tiny detail that whispered to his consciousness. Stretton had taken you to the Yule Ball two years ago. This was a product of pure jealousy as well as rage.

"Oooh did I hit a nerve?" Stretton says. "What could dear, sweet Meadow possibly see in you, Riddle?"

Mattheo doesn't register the feeling of his fist untangling from the shirt collar, until he feels the soft cartilage of Stretton's nose breaking beneath bloodied knuckles. He can vaguely hear Theodore and Pansy telling him to stop, can barely hear the sounds of people jeering and gasping at the scene. But what he does hear is your blessed voice.

"Mattheo stop it." you say, and it's like the sound brushes away the feelings clouding all his senses. He lets go of Stretton, who flops to the floor unceremoniously, but he doesn't pay him another glance. Not when you're looking at him the way you are. With bewilderment and what he thinks is unease. His breathing is ragged as he steps towards you, but you step back.

"Are you insane?" you hiss at him and to his utter horror, you turn your gaze to the blubbering boy on the floor and kneel down to help him instead.

"Jeremy?" the way you say his name with a soft tone grates through him and he's about to step towards you again, when Theodore's firm hand on his chest stops him.

"Let it go. You've already caused quite the scene brother." his voice is a gentle caress to his ears and his graciously listens to Theo who sighs in relief, pushing Mattheo out of the door, ignoring the shouts of Professor Babbling, who had just entered the classroom.

~∞~

Wordlessly, you heal Jeremy's wounds as Professor Babbling meanders in, unaware of the turmoil that had occurred only moments ago. Jeremy was hissing and cursing as your magic washed over his skin.

"You can take your godsdamned seat back, Meadow." he spat. "It's so not worth getting another beating over."

You smile grimly at him, guilt clouding your eyes. "Of course. I'm sorry, Jeremy."

"Not your fault, love." It's nearly impossible for you to hide the way the nickname makes you cringe. "Can't say I won't miss the opportunity for some extra quidditch practice though."

He bats your healing hands away as Professor Babbling stands above the two of you.

"What on Earth is going on?" she says, voice stern. "Does it have anything to do with why Masters Riddle and Nott are notably absent?"

Jeremy nods immediately at the same time that you freeze, not willing to give them up so easily. He stares at you incredulously. You clear your throat awkwardly.

"Uh, yes. Yeah." you say in a muted whisper. "But it's been sorted."

Jeremy throws you a look, which you adamantly ignore as you rise and go towards Pansy's table, taking Theo's empty seat. She doesn't so much as look your way, tense as you sit down. You close your eyes and sigh.

"Look I'm sorry that I've not spoken to you." you mumble without turning to face her.

"Ignored and neglected more like." she retorts in response. "I had no idea about Ron, Meadow. You have to believe me."

You reach over and squeeze her hand in your's. "I do believe you, Pans. I do. But it doesn't mean that the others didn't. And I-"

You're cut off by Professor Babbling's introduction to the lesson's topic, but the squeeze that Pansy's hand gives your's is all you need to know that you're both okay. And that's enough for now.

"For what it's worth," she mumbles almost imperceptibly. "You're doing an awfully good job of avoiding him. I've never seen Mattheo so ruffled."

Instead of satisfaction, that statement only brings you an aching sense of pain. And whether you do it unconsciously or not, you'll never admit, but your mental walls break down the smallest amount.

Enough for him to know that you're in as much agony as he is.

~∞~

As soon as Pansy leaves your side after you've walked out of Ancient Runes, Hermione is there immediately.

"Okay, what in Merlin's name happened in there?" she asks incredulously.

"We both know Riddle has a short fuse, Mione. It's not that abnormal to see." you retort and she gives you a disbelieving look.

"Maybe so, but it can't be just me that's noticed that he hasn't resorted in bloody fist fighting in months." Damn her and her brilliant observation skills. "And why was Stretton in your seat in the first place?"

"I asked to swap." you say with a shrug and when you don't give her the answer she's no doubt looking for, she pins you with a glare.

"You've been avoiding them all week. Parkinson, Nott and Riddle. You've spent more time with me, Ginny and Harry this week than you have all year."

"Tired of my presence already, Mione?" you say with the ghost of a smirk of your face. When she doesn't return your humour, you sigh. "I've been a little busy with visiting Ron. And maybe Harry's spiels have been getting to me."

"What?" she questions before lowering her voice. "You think they're Death Eaters?"

"I don't know what to think." you say. "But I can't talk to them. I won't."

"You spoke to Pansy, just fine earlier."

"She's not the one I'm avoiding."

A brief glance into her mind shows you that she thinks you're speaking about Theo. And while the thought of speaking to him after what he no doubt had a hand in helping orchestrate, seeing Mattheo, speaking to Mattheo, makes your heart want to drop right down to your stomach.

You can still feel the phantom of his power all this time later. Though that could just be you imagining it; you don't doubt that the brief feeling you got was exhilarating. It terrified you.

"Are you coming to see Ron after lunch?" Hermione asks as you part ways for your differing classes.

"Yeah. I'll find you in the Great Hall once I've finished Astronomy." you smile in farewell as she makes her way towards her Arithmancy lesson.

Your smile slips immediately as you turn the corner, because you find yourself trapped between a cold stone pillar, and his strong, muscled chest, his arms straining as they pin you to the hard structure. You don't look up to lock eyes, instead glaring intently at his loosened Slytherin tie.

"Hello, Princess." Mattheo spits menacingly. All he gets in response is a huff from you. "Still intent on avoiding me, are you?" he lets out a dark chuckle that sets your skin alight, and you can tell without looking that a sinister smirk paints his gorgeous face.

You feel as he sensually caresses your mind, and it has you keening into him.

Let me back in. His deep voice is demanding and assertive. At your blatent refusal he growls. Why won't you let me in?

I can't. You say back, your inner voice a mere whimper in comparison to his. He tilts his head down to look at you, chasing your eyes with his own. He can feel your fear and self hatred like it was highlighted in bold colours for all to see.

"What are you so afraid of, darling?" he asks out loud in a low and raspy tone that makes you melt. Your eyes shut on instinct, squeezing away the light until your dizzy.

"I'm going to be late for Astronomy." you say, deflecting and he scoffs, pushing you further into the wall.

"It's barely eleven o'clock. I'm sure you're not going to miss a change in star pattern any time soon."

"That's not even the point and you know it." you argue, trying in vain to evade his strong hold.

"Stop avoiding us. Stop avoiding me." he begs. "Do you know how insufferable Teddy has been?"

"What a horrible thing to say about your best friend." you retort halfheartedly. But Mattheo is only partially glad that you're returning his words with quips of sarcasm. He sighs.

"I don't blame you for what happened in my dorm, love." Unlike how you cringed away from Stretton, your heart sings at the nickname. "'S not your fault."

"I could've drained you to death, Théo." you say quietly, and his face heats at the shortened nickname. One that he had not heard in years, since the passing of Theodore's mother. "I don't know how you can stand to be around me."

You're still evading his eye contact, so he lifts a hand from the wall and gently cradles your chin, moving your gaze to his; bloody knuckles contrasting with the smoothness of your skin.

"You're not a monster." he says resolutely, like he truely believes it. "You never have been, and you never will be. Not to me, not to my friends, not to your friends, either."

Your brow furrows and your eyes line with unshed tears.

"I went to Dumbledore." you say and he stills. "After I left your common room. I went to him and he said I was a weapon. Because I can detect certain magical objects and people."

Mattheo's body lit up with fury again. You were not a weapon to be used and discarded. No, you were a person who did not belong on the frontlines of war.

"And what did you say to that?" he asks you, onyx eyes narrowed in anger that was not directed your way.

"I told him that I didn't know how to control it. That I wasn't interested in being fated to die." you say, and it feels good to talk about things you're too afraid to speak to your friends about. "I asked him to grant you all safety too."

At this, Mattheo's gaze snaps right to your own. Incredulity lacing his features. "Why would you do that?"

"He could see right through my shield." you defend yourself at his tone. "He refused anyhow. Said you had to ask for yourselves, and he knows that you won't."

He admired your ire for his friends. But he almost winces at the glare you send his way.

"You knew that he wouldn't help any of you no matter when or how I asked. Didn't you?" you couldn't believe him.

"You learn to expect nothing less from the people who expect nothing but bad intentions from you, sweetheart." he replied with a shrug. "Though I wish they'd help the others, no matter if they associate with me or not."

His face is dark as he lets you go. But you don't move away. Instead you tilt your head and stare up at him, eyes moving across his features: from his onyx eyes framed by gloriously long lashes; to the bridge of his nose, crooked from previous fights with a long scar stretching across the middle of it; to his perfect mouth that pouts slightly as he gazes down at you.

Keep looking at me like that and I'll take you in this very corridor. He snarls in your mind and you smirk.

Kinky. But I draw the line at exhibitionism. You pat at his hard, muscled chest and make to move away and run towards the class that you are no doubt now late for. But he stops you with a firm grip to your bicep and he spins you around to face him again.

"Tease." he mutters with his own smirk as he presses his lips to your's. It's as euphoric as the first time, and every time after that as his lips fight against your's, ultimately winning your miniature battle for dominance. You mewl into his mouth as his tongue brushes against your's, hands clawing at the hairs at the nape of his neck as he pushes you into the wall once more.

You're so lost in eachother that you don't hear them when they turn the corner. Ginny and Harry stop dead in their tracks as they stare at the two of you wide eyed. The former smirks at the thought of finally catching you out but it drops immediately when she turns to the boy beside her who is visibly fuming. And she can't steer him away fast enough to save you from his wrath.

"Shacking up with Death Eaters now, Meadow? I thought that was below you." the spitting sound of your best friend's voice breaks you from your daydream like state and you force yourself away from Mattheo's wondering mouth to gape at your two friends.

Ginny is sending you an apologetic look which you bypass in order to face the scathing eyes of Harry Potter.

"Harry-" you say, stepping out from where you're trapped between Mattheo and the wall, and you're so grateful that he doesn't keep you pinned there, instead he stands slightly infront of you, arms folded, a glare set on his face.

"Don't." Harry says, eying the way Riddle stands infront of you protectively. "All this time, I thought you were only tutoring him for Nott's sake. But, of course you just had to get in his bed, too."

The hand on his bicep is the only thing stopping Mattheo from launching at the boy.

"Watch it, Potter." he snaps, his position infront of you turning defensive.

Harry lets out an incredulous laugh; Ginny's attempts to persuade him to leave it alone, are ignored.

"I overheard you." he continues as if Mattheo had not spoken at all. "In Dumbledore's office. Begging him to help your friends."

You don't know what to say. Starstruck by his anger. But you understand why he's angry at you, and that ache burns ever brighter in your chest.

"The same friends who have tormented us, tormented you for years. How can you even ask such a thing?"

"They deserve to be helped just as much as the rest of us." you say at last, your voice quiet and on the verge of cracking with emotion. The lump in your throat gets bigger with every word you speak. "You know what it's like to grow up in an unwanted home Harry. You know that no one deserves that."

"That's not the point Meadow." he snaps and he visibly delights in the way you recoil at his words. "They're all Death Eaters. Working for his–" he points a steady finger to the boy stood beside you, "-father. Did you ever stop to think that they were buttering you up to take to him once they got wind of your powers."

You blanch at that and turn your gaze to Ginny. She gapes between the three of you and avoids Harry's eyes. "I didn't tell anyone. I promise you, Meadow." her resolute tone is the only thing grounding you to reality right now.

Harry shakes his head. "Dumbledore told me that you can siphon people's power as well as perform Occlimency. When were you going to tell us?" his anger gives way to betrayal as he looks you up and down. And the way he spits out the word 'siphon' tells you everything you need to know. He thinks you're a monster.

"I was going to tell the rest of you." you promise, not looking at Ginny again. "But only when I had a better grasp of it."

Harry scoffs and steps towards you. Rolling his eyes when Mattheo stands directly ahead of you.

"Back off Potter. If you know what's good for you."

The way his venomous lilt travels through you should make you ashamed, but it only sends sparks of arousal to your core.

Harry only looks at you from over Mattheo's shoulder, distain painting his pale face as he utters a heartbreaking sentence before he leaves, with Ginny following quickly behind him, with a silent promise to find you later and apologise for Harry's (entirely justifiable, you think) words.

"Don't go to see Ron later, and don't you dare seek us out again. I don't trust you, and I don't know if I ever will again."

Mattheo is onto you the second the pair depart, wrapping you in his arms as you collapse from the onslaught of emotion that crashes down on you.

What have I done? What have I done? What have I done? You say over and over and he does his best to comfort you, going as far as to sit against the wall, cold floor stinging against the fabric of his school trousers, cradling you into his chest.

It's okay. I'll fix it. I promise. Is all he can muster up in comfort as you crumble before his very eyes, sinking into his embrace.

~∞~

i love writing angst lol i hope you enjoyed this shortish chapter (lots of time skips im sorry)

the coming updates will probably be slow since i've gone back to uni - i have to complete three presentations and come up with a product idea and a lab report in like 5 weeks 🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲

i've tried to fix it and i've reported the bug but i'm still incapable of editing pretty much all of my posts (not the serendipity masterlist post though, thankfully) and its getting quite frustrating now but we move 🫡

taglist:

(striked out users are ones that i couldn't tag)

@camille-1019 @lovelyygirl8 @xluansstuff @babeylover @thejadeazalea @undercover-smutlover @adhxmoony @dreamingofonceuponatime @thepassionatereader @urmomsgayforme5 @aphroditeisamilf @devotedlycrookeddonut @purplegirls-posts @nofacenonamelikekira @foxboyapologist @lafrone @lovely-maryj @nromanovaswife @leeknows-wife @dracygf @wildlyobserving @ravenclawprincess33 @melllinaa @vellicora @lantsovheiress @emiliahoward @stunkbiggu @vcosette @prongsprincessworld @mattiesgirl @rachmmb @x-kermit-x @sun-fiower-seed @cas-planet @certaindreampost @weirdowithnobeardo @mikalovesicecream @sunasbbie @rainy-darling @faeriepigeons @lovely-blackinnon @hiireadstuff @gimalo135 @elsafromcabinsix @moonlightreader649 @blueshome @nopedefe @spencerreidsthings @navs-bhat @agent-tempest @magimtz23 @y0urm0m12 @sbrn0905 @leona-hawthorne @whatsupb18 @moni-cah @taylorann2013 @unstablereader @gisellesprettylies @nat1221

#mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo x you #harry potter #mattheo riddle #pansy parkinson #ginny weasley x reader #hermione granger x reader #harry potter x reader #angst #serendipity series

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mooshs-crack-headcanons · 4 months

Note

Fucking in their offices with the veteran trio please ☺️

Wow I'm getting a lot of requests asking for these three actually and I am NOT complaining lol.

Disclaimer: I use they/them pronouns for Hanji and since this request is NSFW in nature also AFAB language/terms will also be used for them. And tldr summary of this entire thing: poor Survey Corps desks, man... the true strongest soldiers ❤️‍🩹

(Gender neutral reader)

(NSFW contents under the cut)

Levi Ackerman

Takes issue with the idea at first, after all this is the place he works - important papers who knows been god-knows-where and shit get signed and handed off at that desk. To fuck on it would be unsanitary you know how many people have touched this thing? Plus it would leave an unnecessary mess, and not to mention the door leading to his connected bedroom is not even like... eleven steps away from it. With a bed. A bed he knows only the two have you have been in and with sheets that are cleaned everyday. Why not just fuck you there instead? It seems obvious. Until, that is, one day you're having a heated argument - one he looks back on as very dumb but he knows how stubborn he can be when not backing down on something, especially when it involves Erwin's equally as stubborn ass who tends to drag him into his messes and therefore creating this argument you had - and he doesn't exactly remember the turning point of when you started kissing each other with such tenacity or when you started ripping each other's clothes off but it's when you're pushed back on his desk, pushing all his neat stacked paperwork onto the floor sprawled back with your legs spread with that demanding "fuck me," glint in yours eyes.

Eh. It just clicked and now he's thinking with his dick.

His kisses are frantic. He bites all over the base of your throat and leaves marks he knows you're going to have trouble hiding the next day but that's honestly the further thing from his mind right now as he has three fingers shoved all the way to the knuckles inside you right now prying your hole practically wide open.

Your legs are anchored on his hips, your pants dangling one of them and the straps of your gear hanging loose off of them keep snapping into his ass to an annoying point where he completely rips them off and tosses them to the complete opposite side of the room.

Yank and pull on his hair. Do it and he'll let put a guttural groan and shove you down further on the desk where your back is completely on it and you have to physically strain to keep your head up from keeping it from hanging over the edge - to 'assist' you from having to do this he puts a hand in your hair in return, holding your head up and make you look as he fucks you with his nearly his entire hand now. It gets your eyes all glossy as you feel so overwhelmed, you feel so good.

"You're pitiful, you know that?" He tells you, picking up the pace as you squeeze around his fingers. "But that's just fine... preferable actually. I love seeing you this way and I'm not even properly fucking you yet."

When he enters you the desk finally creaks. It's a sound that itches his brain turns out, it gets his silver grays all wide that he pauses what he's doing for just a lingering moment - to your dismay as you're now flipped on your stomach on the surface with your ass out, grinding back onto him whimpering for him to move, which he gives a slight buck and there it is again. The creak. He needs to hear it again. Again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And-

It's the combination of both your noises - all the moans, groans, curses, whimpers, and gritted calls of his name on your lips - and the wooden thudding, metalic complaining, the slight crackles that his desk, the one he's had since getting promoted to Captain and earning this office, that reeeeaallly gets his rocks off as he pounds you into it.

He thinks about just about how many boring exchanges he's had at his desk, all the meetings, the Cadet reprimantions, that fucking time that noble had the balls to come to his - at the time - brand new office and lecture him and newly appointed Commander Erwin who was visiting up and down how he still didn't approve of this "Gutter-rat thug," getting such a high position of military rank in barely over a year and had threatened to pull fundings. Now look at him. Captain 'Gutter-rat thug,' currently fucking you over it. Weirdly hot. Next time he has those boring exchanges he'll definitely have something nice to distract himself now.

He drapes himself over you from behind, continuing to mark up your neck and whisper in hushed tones all sort of both dirty things mixed with genuine praises of love and adoration - things only meant for you to hear, afterall he can still wreck you to the point of pleasured tears and still be all sappy, you know? It's not like anyone else is around. He likes doing it with one of your legs picked up from off the ground and holding it up in the crease of his arms - spreading you open wider for him to take and every creak and crackle of the desk underneath you is like a euphoric punctuation to ever single thrust he makes deep inside you that only grows louder, and louder, and louder, and louder, and louder, and louder until it almost sounds like thunder.

When you two finally finish, both out of breath like you just ran a mile as all your love spills between you does Levi pull back to assess the mess that trickles in flooding globs that forms into large puddles onto the rocky wood that rationality sets back in him like a truck.

"M'gonna have to clean and disinfect that... fucking knows how I'm going to get the damn smell out before those snooping fuckin-"

You move without out saying anything, down on your wobbly knees but you still make eye contact as you perform your next sinful action: licking it all up, every single bit left behind on the hardwood.

Levi just blinks. Dumbfounded.

It doesn't matter how big or small you are, Levi has you picked up and tucked under his arm before he can even realize it - he takes those eleven steps to his and yours shared bedroom and tosses you on the bed and kicks the door behind him close. You two aren't done yet.

It's later the next day when Levi gets a knock at his office door, which he barely even has to let out permission to come in as he currently is reorganizing the some of your books on his shelf and cleaning around the general area as the door opens and comes in Erwin, stack of papers in his hand.

"Levi," He greets closing the door behind him and walking further into the office.

The Captain just hums, setting the current book in his hands down and moving to the next to carefully wipe down the cover and shaky off any gathered dust from the pages. Erwin then stands there awkwardly for a moment, rubbing back his pomade slick hair before speaking again.

"I think I should apologize for causing you and (Name) to argue yesterday at the meeting with Zackley, that wasn't my intention. Again, my apologies."

"I know. Tell them that."

"I will, I just thought I'd come here first. I have the documents you requested."

Levi hums again, with his rag he starts to scrubs down a stain mark on the shelf he hasn't noticed before. Meanwhile Erwin slowly trudges over to the Captain's desk, putting a careful eye on the documents in his hands before he shuffles around where he's facing away from desk and goes to sit down before Levi catches it at the last second from the corner of his eye and immediately goes to yell for him not to and then-

CRUNCH.

Erwin's wide eyed as he now sits on the floor, the desk now cracked into two pieces with him in the middle of it. It'd be funny, it really would, if it were anyone else's but his desk. The Commander looks honestly baffled as he looks at the current unexplainable predicament he's found himself in. Levi silently swallows and hurryingly thinks up the first excuse he can pull out of his ass.

...ass. He points at the blonde.

"Your ass fucking broke my desk."

Erwin blinks before looking back down at the broken wood pile he sits on, chuckle leaving his throat. "I do really do guess Mitras quality still isn't worth much, huh? Overpriced yet completely unstable. Just like the lot of them."

"Your ass broke my fucking desk."

"Yeah - I - I guess it did..."

When he stands up he brushes himself off, looking at the damage that Levi swallows and tries not to think on the truth on actually why it broke - Erwin's ass was just the damn straw that broke the titan's back or whatever the saying goes. He didn't even want to think about how much from the budget it'd take to get this shit replaced but Erwin insists on it, saying Mike's folks actually are good craftspeople, they should be able to build an actual stable one instead of expensive dull and weak Sina bought ones. But yet... Levi wasn't sure on the truth of how weak it was since he fucked your guts out on it... but of course he couldn't just voice that part out loud. So he just quietly nods his head and agrees.

From that point afterwards he swear to you no more desk fucking.... for a good couple weeks then he finds you two at it again - however, Erwin was right, the new desk from Mike's family was very stable, very strong, very capable of withstanding a good dicking between you two.

Let's just hope it doesn't need to get replaced any time soon.

Hanji Zoë

Quite literally will jump at the chance to. Like you could be at the side of their desk, pointing over and drawn together diagrams and other research papers as they sit in their chair with their eyes wide staring at you not paying attention to a single thing you're saying - it's rude, they know, but it's so damn hard when you're so attractive! You don't notice their staring, you keep on talking business and adding your thoughts and commentary about certain test results on the latest experiments done on the two captured titans behind base: Jimmy and Stanley, as Hanji has named them - you only stop talking and look over when you process how quiet they've become, a very unusual thing for your lover, and your about to question what's wrong or if something about the results is troubling to them before they immediately have their hand on your face, cupped between their palm, as pull you down to kiss them.

Titans are quite literally the farthest thing on their mind as they push everything - every single thing, from the research notes you were just going over, to other important pieces of paper, to the junk nit-nacks they've hoarded on their messy desk - all onto the floor as the jolt and push back their chair to stand and pick you up to set you down on the surface and yank off your boots and pants.

They kiss all over your legs, nipping and biting and sinking in your touch as your fingers find the back of their brunette head to encourage their actions. Their breath is so warm against your underwear as they proceed to kiss through the material - getting an approving hum from you - before tantalizingly pluck their fingers in the band to begin to pull them down your legs, revealing your aching-with-need sex to them. But they don't touch you where you want right away, you're going to have to earn it by begging. They remind you of that while tracing their tongue over the worn marks of ODM straps on your thighs then biting at them, deep in the flesh.

Once you've begged enough to their liking do they finally touch you, and they're so good with their fingers, giving you a nice good prep before replacing it with their just as good tongue they devour your sex with. Then with their unoccupied hands they reach and grab around your hips so you can't squirm away from them as they are crouched down at the foot of that desk and go to town with you in their mouth like there's no tomorrow.

Your come stains their face when they finally pull away gasping for air - hadn't pulled away a single time since they started. They smile big at you, with their hands on your hips they scoot you in closer and with a rough sudden movement rocks the desk where you falling slightly forward so they can kiss you, making damn sure you taste yourself on their lips.

You're both on top the desk now. Hanji's - their lower half completely bare - straddled one of your legs as your rearranged as much as you can on the surface space to tangle them together and they have you slightly pushed back to where both your sexes can kiss and grind against each other. With obnoxious squeaks you fuck each other on it like animals.

They talk to you in punched out whispers, their chest - fully exposed as you've ripped open their shirt and tugged off the bandaged to reveal their breasts from underneath and bounce with each movement to two of you make. They also have their glasses pushed up and rest on the top of their head, they bounce with each movement too.

"You like this? You like taking my pussy like this? Naughty little thing... you know, I've noticed you bending over or sitting my desk with your legs open tons of times. Did you want this? But to embarrassed to ask? Huh?"

They get so domineering worked up like this you feel too high to even speak, you nod before your pulling in to more kisses as they completely fuck you further sending you closer and closer to the edge until your light headed and your whole body is numb, you fall back with your bones turned to jelly until everything sudden tightens again and the numbness fazes into hyperawareness when that snap in your gut happens and your practically sob with your release.

When your both done you two keep sitting on there for awhile, you're not even sure how long but Hanji rests into you with a wide smile on their face and half asleep in the crook of your neck but they lazily keep you sitting up and not to fall off onto the floor. It's nice, really nice, your hands stumble as you go to pet at your lover's hair and further relax into them.

But your afterglow safe haven doesn't last long as there's a sudden banging on the office door.

"Squad Leader! Stanley just bit a Cadet's arm off!" Uh oh.

Hanji's eyes go wide and whatever sleep was present in them before completely evaporates as they pull themselves off you. Panic sets it.

"Shit!" They curse and hop off the desk to go immediately pull their clothes sloppily and haphazardly back on - their pants are on backwards. They turn back to you.

"Give me like - uh - twenty minutes! Be right back!"

Incidents like this if word travels fast enough could be used as ammunition against the Corps, not to mention the poor kid...

They give you one last kiss before quickly rushing out the door, slamming poor Moblit in the face with it without realizing it as the shoot down the hall.

"STANLEY!!!"

They sob in a way like a parent just lost their child, which in a weird way they kind of did, they really did like that one... and it's nape's probably already been split open by now.

You should probably get dressed and join them, comfort their 'mourning'... if your legs can unjelly that is.

Erwin Smith

Erwin Smith is the biggest workaholic you've ever met. He spends 80% of his time glued at that damn desk and he can be very stubborn about it so it can take quite a lot to pull him away from it... though, maybe with some slight convincing...

He'll remain focused, neatly writing down his formal documentations to be sent to the capitol along with other important matters gathering his attention, even when you're behind him with your arms around his shoulders and kissing along his neck begging him to take a break as he's been in at one spot for around twelve hours straight. It won't be easy getting him away from work, he'll reassure how important his current business is and will blab on and on about all the detailed variables but honestly you could care less when he looks like he could fall over from overworking himself to death. He at least needed a damn break and you know how you could provide.

Did I mention how stubborn this man is? He won't break, even if you maneuver around in front of him and the desk as he sits there with you dropped on your knees... but he won't exactly say no, so that's start. He'll continue to work, even as you work to start pulling and undoing his belt, he'll continue jotting down on whatever he's working on but he won't stop you - hell he won't even give you any input as the sounds sounds in the office are the jingling of his belt and zipper being undone and the scribbles of pen on paper.

"Do you think Zackley would approve if I were to ask for more horses? It's best we have extra for Expeditions and I think it'd be best if each squad were to bring a couple extra in case one of their horses gets killed on the field."

He asks you, you having his cock buried deep down your throat. Casual - no, business causal in that way Erwin tends to do... but the obscurity for him to ask you about supply horses... you nearly choke because of it and surprisingly Erwin's hand finds to the back of your head to ease and balance your head out but he doesn't completely pull you off if it, as if he's come to terms with the whole situation but still he doesn't pull himself from work. It's clear you're going to easy on him. You will make him take a break from work.

You suck, swallow, take everything he has. Your hands grip tight at his hips as you your your face on his dick in steady but frequent rhythm that does get his hips to slightly buck forward every once in a while but he always comes to pet at your head in apologies if he accidentally put you in discomfort in any way and he carries on - the scribbling on the desk up behind you becoming more grading by the second.

However, there's one ray of hope... his balls.

Erwin will immediately jump in his chair and drop his pen - ink undoubtedly spilling and staining important documents the moment your mouth pulls off his cock entirely and replace it with his balls in your mouth. Play with them. Suck them. Fucking bite them. Anything. Now you have his attention and will earn a loud guttural groan from out his lips that seals the deal you've just locked in your mission success.

He sits completely back in his chair - whatever business details he was going over completely disappear in the back of his mind as both of his large hands find themselves in your head and he vocally encourages you to keep going. His cock will drip pre all over your face as you rest just below it rolling your tongue over his sack and he'll throb so needily for you.

It's then becomes so easy to get lost in everything that you don't even realize you're being pushed back further underneath the desk until Erwin's chair suddenly scoots up to sit up to it proper.

"I got these." Mike.

Mike had walked in and you can hear - and slightly flinch at the loud sound of - a stack of papers being dropped above you on the desktop. You sit there on your knees, slightly uncomfortable at the crowded position underneath the desk, your mouth still attached to Erwin's crouch - but you don't pull away, just look up as much as you can to see your lover manage to keep up sudden appearances to his cadethood friend as best he can... strangely hot in a weird way. And Mike Zacharias was no idiot.

"You feelin' okay?"

"Yes, why wouldn't I be? Though, I do suppose I have quite the workload. I should finish soon."

Mike hums in response but you can't see his face, if you could you feel like it'd be more telling and revealing so, to save from embarrassment it's probably for the best.

Then the bastard sniffs and it sends fifty layers of fear and panic through your spine.

Silence.

"Hanji's holding a card game in their office, there's gonna be booze. I'll expect you not to work yourself to death and come. Bring (Name) too if you want. If you can find them, their squad has been looking for 'em for the past half hour."

Subtly, underneath the desk the Commander feels at your head with an affirming pat. "Will do, see you then, Mike."

You then carefully listen to the boots creak on the floor, you count up sixteen steps before the door opens and clicks close behind. Another beat passes in silence before suddenly the hand on your head tightens it's grip and pulls you forward as the Commander's chair scoots back and away from the desk before he makes your head tilt back and does he look down at you proper for the first time since the encounter started.

"Well," He addresses, voice low and dangerously smooth. "-looks like I'm done with my work, hm? You got what you wanted, you must be so proud."

"Erwin-"

"Pants off. On the desk. Legs spread. That's an order, (Surname)." He says with a crooked smile, the dirty one, the one that sometimes comes out during the most inappropriate of times. That one.

Well, it's your Commander's orders. You yourself grin as you get up to your feet. Who were you not to follow?

It's only a little bit awkward an hour later when the two of you finally step in Hanji's office (pigsty, as Levi calls it) cleaned up the best you could but still the two of you had that 'messed around' aura but no one really seems to question as Hanji jokes it's about time you two showed up before going on a tirade swearing up and down Mike's cheating - he simply raises his nose swearing he's not - before you sit down at the crowded trouble where Levi rolls his eyes and passes out cards for you both, muttering something under his breath you don't quite catch but Mike kicks him under the table for it, causing him to kick harder in return.

It's fun, having little moments of small non battle camaraderie like this, for just a small amount of time all of you get to not think about titans, the Walls, and certain death for once. It's especially nice looking over to Erwin, who is now enthralled in the card game and is a very deceptive cheat to the unexpected opponent and takes plenty of risky gambles as he's known to do - a good amount of people around this table can read him and no when he's lying but it is still rather difficult, his poker face is damn well good and practiced - but even still it's obvious he's having fun and is finally not focused to death on his work which makes you happy. Even if you should've definitely won that last hand.

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intrepidacious · 1 year

Text

a million summers

summary: Something shifts between you and Bucky when he comes back home from college.

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 3k

warnings: modern AU; childhood friends to lovers; alcohol consumption; making out; the rare occurence of me writing something that's almost exclusively fluff. please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

prompt: @allcapsbingo O1: "You've changed."

a/n: i didn't plan on posting anything today but something came over me. happy valentine's day, everyone!! this one's for @jesterstrange – remember when you sent me two songs for my sleepover and i completely ignored one of them? this is why 💛

masterlist | read on ao3

The air in the car is buzzing with late night heat and the crackling of the radio rapidly switching between stations, but you can’t seem to mind. Your heart is pounding in tune because less than two hours ago, you were kissing Bucky Barnes.

The Bucky Barnes, whose hand is currently gripping the steering wheel just a little too tightly. Valedictorian, baseball legend, first boy you ever fell in love with, prodigal third of your trio, Bucky Barnes.

Shit, if Steve found out about this, you’re not sure if he would laugh or kill both of you.

You wonder if the same thing is currently going through Bucky’s mind, because when you steal a sideways glance at him, he’s biting the inside of his lip, like he always does when he’s wrapped in thought.

It’s funny, in a way. You’ve noticed these little things about him since you were eleven years old, innocently collecting tiny facts about James Buchanan Barnes in your mind like other children kept pebbles or leaves they found on a walk. Like how his hair would stick up and begin to curl in his neck when it was about to rain. Or how he always got the first splatter of freckles in May, after months and months of them hiding away from the cold.

They’re there now, dancing across his cheekbones and down the bridge of his nose, and when the sunrise hits them at the right angle, they point out all the places you want to kiss; underneath his eye and on the tip of his nose, and, most importantly, right at the corner of his mouth, where his smile starts.

Your heart still can’t believe he’d actually let you do just that.

(He would, he would. He has.)

Your phone vibrates again and you ignore it. Reality might be on the other end, and you’re not ready for that quite yet.

There’s a slight tick in Bucky’s jaw when you peek at him again, barely noticeable to anyone who doesn’t know him quite as well as you do, and it sets your cheeks on fire. You roll the window down to feel the wind in your hair. Maybe it’ll cool your face a little.

You haven’t talked to each other at all ever since you got in the car, Bucky concentrating on the road, you counting the cars you pass. There’s not a lot of them, not at this hour, so the activity doesn’t exactly help to calm your mind, but you don’t trust your voice enough to start a conversation quite yet.

(Still, he hasn’t let go of your hand since you got in the car, either.)

It’s strange, this silence between you, not uncomfortable but unusual, because even though you’ve filled countless hours just quietly doing your own thing next to one another, it’s never been with this tension that’s making the air between you thick enough to cut.

The radio finally settles on a station, and there’s a spark of recognition at the song that manifests in Bucky squeezing your hand a little more tightly, and you finally break the silence with a quiet laugh and a warning, "Don’t."

"I didn’t say anything," Bucky says with a smile in his voice.

"Your thoughts are very loud."

"My thoughts are none of your business." He lifts your hand to his lips and presses a small kiss to your knuckles. Your breath hitches. "Besides, you were very cute."

"Slow down," you say, "I want to throw myself out of the car."

Bucky has the audacity to laugh. "Come on. Everyone had a phase in middle school."

"Everyone who knew me in middle school needs to die," you groan.

"Is that a threat, Y/L/N?"

You take in his cocky grin, tapping a finger against your chin in fake contemplation. "Maybe."

"Oh yeah?" he says, and you swear his smile grows even more crooked as you echo his words back at him.

(You want to trace it with your fingers and then taste it again.)

"So this is what we’ve come to," he says, his face exaggeratedly appalled as he shakes his head. "You’ve changed."

"I’m afraid there can’t be any exceptions," you say, squeezing his hand. "Especially not if this 'short drive over' takes much longer," you say, turning to the window again. The clouds look heavy with the reminder of rain.

Bucky rubs soft circles into the back of your hand with his thumb, and the gentleness of the action makes you press your lips together to hide the giddyness threatening to spill over. "Almost there," he says, and continues driving.

A little faster than before, maybe.

***

You’d seen this look in Bucky’s eyes before, but it’d never been directed at you. Pupils blown wide, hair sticking to his forehead, gaze unwavering and so intense you felt like you were being stripped naked in the middle of the crowd.

(And during his own homecoming party, no less.)

You forced your gaze away, trying to focus on whatever story Wanda was telling intently, but it was impossible to do anything other than nodding and humming and taking another sip of your drink whenever there was a breath for you to do so.

When you dared another glimpse in his direction, Bucky was still watching you, even though he was doing a much better job at pretending to listen, one of Steve’s arms still slung around his shoulders, his lips widening into a smile at the same time the rest of the group started to laugh while you were just out of sync with everyone else.

Not that you were staring at his lips.

It’d been so long since you’d last seen him in person. He was supposed to go off to college with Steve, but instead ended up going to an entirely different part of the country, and despite the fact that the three of you once shared every spare minute, there was only so many lagging phone calls at odd hours a friendship like the one you used to have with Bucky could take.

It broke your heart, of course, but maybe it was for the better. After all, your feelings for him had been drifting towards something different to friendship for a while at that point, something softer and more precious, something hidden away in stolen glances and late night journal entries.

Him literally being out of reach had made it easier, in a way, even though you’d never quite managed to move on from the color of his eyes.

(How could you have?)

Now, seeing him right in front of you again, they seemed so much brighter than they did in your memories; like someone had broken off two pieces of a clear summer sky and put them in the center of his face. It was honestly unfair.

You managed to steal away to the upstairs bathroom for a few minutes, not bothering to turn the light on, splashing your face with cold water to try and get a grip on. You weren’t quite drunk, but tipsy enough to recognize the light haze in your eyes as you stared at your reflection in the mirror, angling yourself in the thin strip of moonlight falling in through the window, trying to see if there was anything different about you.

Anything that Bucky might have picked up on tonight, of all nights.

There was a knock at the door, so you quickly fixed your hair with a small sigh and mentally prepared to continue the night with a smile, determined to enjoy yourself, weird and totally not heart palpitation inducing looks from former best friends be damned.

As soon as you swung the door open, though, your confidence was immediately shattered when you almost barreled into someone standing right on the other side, leaning against the frame, hands in his pockets, smile blinding.

Like he’d been waiting for you.

"Y/L/N."

(Your name still sounded like honey on his tongue.)

"Barnes." You raised your eyebrows when he didn’t move to let you pass. "Can I help you with something?"

"Maybe," he said, and then he pulled you back into the room with him, locking the door behind the two of you.

You leaned against it, arms crossed in front of your chest, swallowing heavily. Bucky hovered very close by for a moment before he retreated, pushing both hands through his hair and then hiding them in the pockets of his leather jacket.

"Right," you said, your head spinning slightly. "This isn’t ominous at all."

Bucky chuckled quietly, his eyes searching for something. "You look great," he finally said.

With a snort, you tilted your head and looked at his feet, not really believing his compliment. Your fingers were itching to unlock the door and just slip back into the party on the other side, but at the same time, you found you couldn’t move.

(You’d never been able to move away from him.)

"Look at that," you said, nudging your shoe against his. "You haven’t changed."

"Not really."

There was a strange edge to the smile in his voice, like he was trying to swallow something down. Maybe it was more clear on his face, but you couldn’t look up at him.

It was strange, the small details you remembered from years ago. Even when you and Bucky had begun to drift apart (because bottling up your feelings all the time could only ever have gone well for a short while), you would still spend most lunch breaks with him and Steve. How many times had you joined them on the tiny, dried up shrivel of lawn next to the library, being silly together and trying to stretch those thirty minutes into infinity, your sneakers always, always untied.

Steve had sprained his ankle in college when he tripped over his own feet, and so he’d started to tie them like the proper adult he pretended to be, and because the two of them had a habit of always copying the other, you’d just assumed that Bucky would have eventually grown out of the whole thing as well.

(Unlike you.)

Seemed like some things had stayed the same, after all.

And as if that stupid little observation had returned both of you back to the days that were, talking was suddenly so easy. You drifted closer to each other and apart again, like you were moving to a song much slower than the one still audible through the bathroom walls.

Later, you wouldn’t even be able to recall what you’d said. Some teasing remark, probably, a snarky comment like the ones you used to hide your feelings behind when you were fifteen and he was the prettiest boy you’d ever seen.

Whatever it was you’d said, Bucky chuckled again. As if he thought you funny. "I can’t believe I …" He trailed off, shaking his head, dragging a hand through his hair again.

Your eyes tracked the movement. A single curl kept sticking up near the top of his head, like it always had when you both were younger. "You what?" you said, almost entranced by it.

"Nothing," he said, looking over his shoulder like he expected someone to come up to him. There was no one there, but he kept moving like he was struggling against some unseen force.

"You what?" you laughed, thoroughly intrigued now.

He shook his head, but it spilled out anyway, like some tidal wave he couldn’t keep contained. "I used to have a crush on you in high school, alright?"

A pause, a break, a screeching record halt.

"No, you didn’t."

(He didn’t.)

"Uhm, yeah I did." He sighed heavily. "Look, you were never supposed to find out."

Your heart was pounding so loudly you could feel it in your ears. "Why not?"

"Because you’re …. You were my best friend. That was more important." The past tense really shouldn’t have broken your heart the way it did, because you’d known. Of course you’d known.

"And what about now?" you said, your hands clutched tightly around yourself." We’re not best friends anymore, are we? So … what are we now?"

He stared at you very intently, and his voice broke a little when he said, "I’m not sure what you want me to be."

There was a pause, and you realized Bucky’s face had turned even redder. You could barely look away from his eyes, though. It was almost impossible to make out their color in the semi-darkness of the bathroom, but there was a softness to them that made your skin prickle with goosebumps.

"Are you drunk or something?" you asked, feeling very, very sober yourself.

"What?" he said, almost offended by your suggestion. "Of course not."

"Good."

You stared at him for a moment longer, and then you kissed him.

You’d imagined kissing Bucky Barnes so many times before, but the real thing was so much better than even your wildest dreams could have predicted. He kissed you like he had all the time in the world and still didn’t want to waste a single second. Your hands circled around his waist to press him ever closer to you, and he made a noise at the back of his throat that made your brain short-circuit.

His hands trailed across your shoulder blades, gently pulling you with him as he took a step backwards and his back hit the wall with a low thud, his mouth never once leaving yours. He tasted like coffee and salt and something that was so distinctly him it took your breath away.

When you finally came up gasping for air, Bucky whined in disapproval, peppering smaller kisses along your cheeks, your jawbone, your neck. You grabbed his shoulder for support as your knees threatened to buckle, the fingers of your other hand grabbing a fistful of his hair.

"Shit, Y/N," he mumbled against your pulse, and the low timbre of his voice was enough to make your eyes flutter shut again. "You’ve got no idea how long …"

He didn’t finish talking, his lips finding yours again with a hum that made your grip on him tighten involuntarily, his hands large and solid around your middle. There was no telling how much time you lost to that kiss. Hours, maybe, an eternity of both of you trying to get as close to each other as possible.

At one point, Bucky tapped your thigh, as if he was trying to get you to jump and wrap your legs around his waist, and you were about to, honestly, but just then you were interrupted by a sudden and incessant knock at the door.

"Whoever’s in there, can you hurry up? There’s a line out here!"

You broke apart with an embarrassed snort. "Just a minute!" you called, somehow managing not to sound quite as short-winded as you felt. You steadied yourself against Bucky’s chest, feeling his heartbeat drum a mad rhythm underneath the thin fabric of his shirt. "I do not wanna go out there," you mumbled.

"Neither do I," he said, and his voice sounded so low and so wrecked you had to kiss him again. Just a small peck on the lips, this time, but you still came up light-headed. "Wanna get out of here?"

(More than anything.)

"I can’t," you sighed apologetically. "Nat’s not even here yet and I told her I’d help with the cake."

"I don’t give a shit about the cake."

You giggled. "I promised, though"

Bucky groaned, pressing his forehead against yours. The person on the other side of the door started knocking again. "She has an hour," he mumbled and sealed it with a quick kiss before you could say anything else. "Tops."

You left that bathroom with your head held high and an incredulous smile on your face. Outside, a clash of thunder shook the window panes.

***

It crosses your mind, then, when the car slows and the gas gauge finally stops blinking, that your younger self would have killed to be in your shoes. Or rather, bare feet pulled up on the passenger seat, Bucky’s fingers entertwining with yours, feeling tired and wide awake at the same time as nervous excitement curls up in your chest.

How many summer night did you use to lie awake in bed, imagining a scenario just like this?

(A million, at least.)

The summer air carries the smell of the ocean, and if you looked out the windscreen, you could probably see the waves crashing against the shoreline as the sun starts to rise, a picture perfect view like something out of a fucking dream. You’re still not quite convinced you haven’t fallen asleep on Wanda’s shoulder earlier in the evening, your subconscious making all of this up out of some long buried yearning from years ago.

You don’t want to look outside, though. You don’t want to look anywhere but at the boy beside you, whose hair is still tousled from your touch and who looks at you like he’s on cloud nine and absolutely terrified at the very same time.

"Do you feel kinda nervous or is it just me?" Bucky says, and you laugh.

"Yes. What’s up with that?"

It’s like the manic, pent up energy that made your kiss in the bathroom feel like you got struck by lightning has vanished from your bodies, making room for something more quiet. More anxious. A question whispered at the back of your mind that makes your hold on his hand tighten.

What now?

(Reality stopped calling a while ago, but it’s only a matter of time.)

"I guess it’s a good sign." Anticipation makes the blue of his eyes shimmer. "Means neither of us wants to fuck this up."

You smile tentatively. "Is there something we could potentially fuck up?"

Bucky swallows, tilting his head. "I hope there is."

(You want to run away with him. You want to stay with him. You’d wait a million summers more to get here.)

"Me too."

When he leans in this time, it’s sweeter than before, slower, less a declaration and more a promise. Neither of you would have to wait anymore.

thank you for reading!! if you want to see more of my writing, check out my masterlist or follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications!!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfic #a million summers #esther 🧣

1K notes · View notes

novelizt · 8 months

Text

THIS LOVE CAME BACK TO ME ☁︎ ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

GENRE ➺ fluff with a little angst, friends to lovers (everyone can see it)

SYNOPSIS ➺ you're back in town. as promised, lockwood welcomes you with open arms. the only difficulty was the fact that you kissed the last time you saw each other.

WC ➺ 4.8k

DISCLAIMER ➺ fem! wedding planner! reader, and i try to write a more descriptive kiss scene (i apologize in advance), the trio has been aged up to about 18-19, and lockwood calls reader 'sweetheart' but in a totally (not) platonic way.

WARNINGS ➺ profanity (one curse word), reader is briefly jealous of lucy, QUILL KIPPS, description of pools and being underwater, a little suggestive but nothing graphic

NOTE ➺ here's the beginning of my 1989 TV sonfic collection!! (full collection masterlist will be out on oct 27.) belly and jeremiah's pool kiss popped into my head while writing. do with that information as you will. this also came out fluffier than i intended it to be. @t2sh0 , here's one of your favorite 1989 tracks turned into a fic, i hope you enjoy 💙

Anthony Lockwood had a way of charming people. You knew you were a goner the second he flashed his teeth at you.

In the eleven months you were employed in Lockwood & Co., you hoped that the subtle touches over case files or the longing glances across the table meant the same to him as it did to you.

That said, you weren't sure what to make of it when he did kiss you—right before you boarded a plane out of the country. You tried to imagine it to be as magical as you dreamed of, but the only impression it left was a confusing one.

Did he kiss you out of pity? Did he do it because you might never come back? Did he do it because it was a spur of the moment thing?

Luckily, your studies distracted you enough to give you some peace. It's only when the world settled into night that you pondered it over and over again, until you agonized over it enough to cry yourself to sleep.

Your contemplations still haunted you as you lugged your bag off the conveyor belt, actually breathing in London air for the first time in three years. When you centered yourself, you scanned the crowd and found your name scrawled in messy, familiar handwriting. The person that held the sign hadn't aged a day.

Lockwood looked older than he did when you first met him, but, now, he had grown into himself. His smile remained unchanged. It speared you in the heart, just like it did the first time.

"Hello, stranger." He was first to speak.

"Hi," you said. You considered adding a witty remark but found that you couldn't conjure one up as quickly as you used to. Instead, you smiled to fill in the awkward silence.

He returned your grin but it didn't reach his eyes. You didn't say anything else before he lowered the sign and held out his arm. You let out an uneasy laugh as you shrugged your bag off your shoulder and onto his.

Even if your mind grappled for something to start with, small talk didn't pick up like how you imagined it would. How could it? The last time he walked beside you, you two were different people. At least, you were.

You were never going to be the kids who bumped fists or laughed at jokes only you two knew again. You were never going to be his partner in crime the same way you were years ago.

Your talent had nulled, leaving you with the only choice to pursue a new life elsewhere, in another country. You knew you had changed, but did Lockwood? The uncertainty was a stake between you. He was acting like nothing was wrong, which made it difficult to gauge whether his lack of speaking was on purpose or he was as lost as you were.

He had taken the side of the walk closest to the road—like he always did. You remembered that he said it was the "most gentlemanly thing to do in the presence of a lady." You called bullshit, but you found yourself softening 'round the edges thanks to his chivalry.

You paced a ways behind him, watching his back and the swish of his coat tails. Like a dagger to the heart, you realized that his coat was new.

"What happened to the trusty old boy?"

It was your first attempt at a conversation. You hoped your voice didn't quiver.

Lockwood slowed his pace to fall in line beside you before shooting you a confused look. Realization hit shortly after. He pinched the lapels of his coat. "You mean my old coat?"

"Yeah." You smiled, forcing yourself to make it convincing. "What happened to it?"

"Lost it," he explained. He chuckled with a far-off look in his eye. It was a fond memory by the looks of it. "Smeared in plasma. There was no salvaging it. Why, you miss it?"

"A little bit," you lied.

He had kept you warm under that coat on more than one occasion. You knew where the seams unraveled, and you knew what he put in each of its pockets. You missed it terribly, and it wasn't even yours. Just like a certain someone. It was pathetic, really.

If he had caught on to your disappointment, he didn't show it. Instead, he teased you with a smile. "Life goes on, sweetheart." He closed the space between you to nudge your arm, just like the good ole days. "There's plenty of coats in the sea."

You stiffle a laugh behind your hand. The endearment had brought the butterflies in your belly back to life. Three years and that hadn't changed at all, and only Anthony could make you chuckle over a bad joke. "Yeah? Where did this one come from?"

He shrugged, pursing his lips. "I haven't got a clue. George and Lucy got it for me."

George, you knew. He was the grump who refused to say one good thing about you but didn't hesitate to make you lime pie when you were in low spirits.

Lucy . . . Lucy was new. Her name had made your hair stand. "Lucy?"

Lockwood snapped his fingers. "Ah, that's what I forgot to tell you." He looked both ways before taking your arm and crossing the street. Portland Row was standing right in front of you, but it felt different now that you knew that someone else was occupying your old room. "Lucy Carlyle is our newest recruit. A Listener. A bloody good one, at that."

He looked elated, so you knew she was doing good for the agency. Something about the way he talked about her made your heart sink.

You were still coming up with a reply when Portland Row cracked open and George Karim's face entered your periphery. He wasn't the type to smile widely, but you took the minute tilt of his lips as an attempt at one.

Perhaps the trip had warped your senses because that was probably the most enthusiastic you'd ever heard him. "About time you came back, trouble."

Aww, he remembered you. The sentiment comforted you more than you cared to admit.

—

Lucy Carlyle's eyes widened the moment Lockwood introduced you. Something finally clicked for her, yet you didn't know what it was. All you really did was shuffle awkwardly and utter a feeble "nice to meet you."

"Oh my God . . . You're the agent they can't shut up about," she grinned.

Lockwood's nettled eyes darted to you. "'Can't shut up about' is being generous."

"Come off it," Lucy scoffed, swatting him away as if he were nothing more than a mosquito. "I was wondering if your name was some weird code. "You-know-who would know what to do", "I'd kill to have her help right about now." Ugh! Now it makes sense!"

Lockwood set his fists on his hips, licking his lips in search of an alibi. "George brought you up more often than not."

George shot him a glare—one that threatened to break the biscuit rule. "Because you'd start. Then you'd talk even louder if I told you to shut up."

"You were part of the conversation regardless."

"Well, she wasn't! You just couldn't quit your yap—"

Lucy kicked out one of the chairs at the table. You smiled gratefully as you took the seat, the boys' bickering melting into the background.

"Are you rejoining the agency?" Lucy asked, propping her elbow on the table. "I'm on the brink of going insane, so I could use a friend. One that doesn't think it's normal to walk around without a shirt or trousers."

You graced her with a gentle laugh. "That's the boys for you, but I'm afraid not, no. I no longer have the Talent to stay in this line of work..." You look down at your hands, remembering the countless stars you wished on to fix you. None of them granted your wish. Your Touch never came back to you. You'd abscessed over the same issue countless times before but now that you were back, you were writing a new chapter of your life. You clenched your fist with reborn determination. "Lockwood promised that I would always have a place here while I get back on my feet, and it would be lovely to be friends with you. Right now, I'm looking for places to bring my other skills. Just because my abilities changed doesn't mean the world will wait for me to get used to it."

When you looked up, you were surprised to not only find Lucy's glazed eyes on you, but George and Lockwood's, too. George coughed into his fist, turning away and finding interest in the kettle. Lockwood's brows furrowed, etching lines of sadness across his face. Lucy tried to plaster on a smile.

"You're very brave. I wouldn't know what to do if my Talent started to fade," Lucy said, hoping the vote of confidence would do what she intended it to.

You appreciated the sentiment but the sorrow in the recess of your mind would always stick at the mention of Talent. "Thank you, Lucy. And you don't have to worry about that right now. From what I hear, you're the best Listener in London." You placed your elbow on the table then set your cheek on your palm. "Tell me, what is the most horrendous thing you've heard?"

—

"I wouldn't mind sharing a room, really."

Despite Lucy's willingness, Lockwood refuted it. "Nice as you are, Luce, half the things you keep up there will unsettle her. Isn't that right, sweetheart?"

You shook your head, an amused smile on your face. "I was an agent, too. It takes a lot to bother me, Anthony. I didn't turn into a wuss just because I've been out of the country."

"Yes, well," Lockwood flourished his hand. "She keeps a jarred skull swimming in sludge with her. Letting you witness that tragedy would be unjust of me."

"I can handle it," you reassure positively. Skull in a jar sounded intriguing. The bigger question was why Lucy kept it in her room, but the was a question for another day.

Lockwood shook his head. When he crossed his arms, you knew the meeting had been adjourned.

"Are we really surprised?" George whispered to you on the way upstairs.

You chuckled and shook your head. "Not really."

—

The only reason you were familiar with Lockwood's room involved chess matches at the most ungodly hours of night. When insomnia had troubled you, you'd come right down, plop the board in the middle of the bed, and play until one or both of you would slump over.

You wondered if he was itching to even the score from three years ago, but you were surprised by the order in which he put his room in. Lockwood wasn't one to worry about a mess, but he was conscious enough to put it away that day. It was the tidiest you'd ever seen the place.

The only stain was the chessboard on the bed and your luggage that had taken over the ottoman at the foot of said bed.

When you rounded on him to ask, he presented you with a smug smile. "We have a lot to catch up on. What better way than over a game of chess?"

You crossed your arms, shifting your weight onto one leg. "Because I won last time?"

"And that," he admitted, shuffling over to his side of the bed and claiming the white pieces. "You know me so well, sweets."

You shook your head in a beguiled way, charmed by his truthfulness. "You're so predictable."

His eyes lit up, like they always did when he was presented a challenge. "See if you can say the same when I check your king."

"In your dreams, Anthony Lockwood." The bed dipped as you sat on your side, mentally prepping yourself to spend the night humbling him whilst trying not to stare at the motions of his hands for too long.

He moved the first pawn, and the game began.

You were so immersed, you missed the book folded open on his bedside table. In it was highlighted: 'the best way to beat jet lag; stay awake for as long as you can.'

—

You finally had a foot in the door three weeks after arriving in London. Sure, it wasn't glamorous and you spent more time advertising yourself than making money, but it was progress nonetheless.

Perhaps it was the sleep deprivation, but the fact that Quill Kipps was also a resident in these parts completely went over your head. You received your reminder when he had reached for the book you wanted for you. It took a little effort not to sneer at him—muscle memory.

You wouldn't have obliged but Kipps had already started a conversation. "Thought I'd never see you here again, trouble." As nasty as he usually was, he didn't show it. Dare you say he was civil? He even smiled at you. Chills. "Does Tony know?"

You clutched the book to your chest, disconcerted by how kind he was being. "He does, yeah. I'm staying with him until I can afford a place of my own."

"Figures," he scoffed, rolling his eyes. He was looking a lot like himself. "I'm surprised he hasn't popped the question."

Your jaw tensed. You had a sudden urge to thunk him over the head to get his mind back in order. "That's because there is no question to pop, Kipps." You looked away, mustering the last of your patience. "My Talent faded. I plan weddings for a living now. I don't have much of a name here yet so business is quite slow."

You didn't see his face change but you sure heard it. "Sorry to hear that..."

"Me, too. I guess."

"Don't give me cheek. I quit because my Talent faded, too."

Your eyes bugged out. The admission was like a carpet being pulled out from under you. "You're kidding."

He chuckled morosely. "I wish I was. I'm trying to find my way but it is challenging."

"With that attitude, of course it is."

Kipps snorted, squaring his shoulders. It didn't do much. He looked as punchable as he usually did. "You sound like him."

"I don't think so. He has more to say about you than I do. He makes me look nice."

Kipps nodded, giving you an invisible tip of a hat. There was a period of brief silence before he opened his mouth again. "Say, the complex I live in has a vacancy on the third floor. If you're interested, I can give you the address."

You tapped the cover of your book, mentally tallying the pros and cons before shrugging. "What's the harm in asking? I have a yellow note in my bag, let me fetch it.

"I'll come along. I'm about to get my books checked anyway."

You allowed him to follow you to your table and bade your tense farewells after he had scribbled down the address and the custodian's telephone.

—

It was no mystery that Lockwood had caught wind of the momentary interaction. You were unaware of how, but he had ways, apparently. He caught up to you on your walk home.

"Was he bothering you?" was the first thing he asked.

He came out of nowhere, so it was reasonable that his voice made you jump. You didn't expect to be intercepted at a cross-walk, of all places. With one look at his face, you relaxed then resumed your steps. "Who are you talking about, Lockwood?"

"Kipps," he said quickly. "was he bothering you?"

"Oh," you look down at the yellow note wedged in the cover of your book. "no. He just gave me a referral for a flat."

Lockwood disappeared from your periphery. For a moment, you thought that would be the end of it, but then you remembered that whenever it involved Quill Kipps, he would never keep his nose out of it. Lockwood returned to your side not long after. "You're staying in Portland Row," he said with the conviction of a hundred unspoken confessions. "You don't need rubbish referrals."

"I can't room with you forever," you replied. You faltered because of the hurt on his face. You must have imagined it because he was back to normal in a blink of an eye. You steeled yourself. "Lockwood & Co. is a psychical agency, not a rental place. And I have weddings to plan. I need more space."

"We can make room in the library," he bargained.

You halted in your steps, raising a brow at him. "You've never seen a proper wedding planning if you think that little room will suffice. You need that space for your case documents."

"We can move them to the office," he insisted, stopping in front of you. He thought a smile would work but you didn't budge, even after he showed you his best grin. "We can make it work."

You sighed, exasperated. The street was empty, so you had nothing else to preoccupy your mind with. "Lockwood... I can't plan weddings in the same house George rants about the Problem in."

"I really don't see the issue there."

He sealed his lips when you narrowed your eyes at him.

—

If Anthony Lockwood was anything, it was petty. A few nights later, he deposited himself in the seat beside you and decided to made your business his business.

"I think the ivory looks better with that shade of violet."

You cocked a brow at him, flipping to the next page of your photo book. "Pray tell, what are you doing here?"

With an unmoving smile, he said, "Learning a thing or two about wedding planning, so I can gauge just how much room you need."

"Lockwood... You don't have to be here."

"Oh, but I do," he retorted. "Lest you make a hasty decision, like living in a flat with Quill Kipps."

He flinched when you shut the book. The cold stare you gave him was just as paralyzing. "I won't be living in a flat with Kipps. He'd be living in the floor below mine. And for your peace of mind, this isn't a hasty decision. I'm only staying here until I can afford to rent my own place."

He bit the inside of his cheek. "Why do you have to go? We're perfectly happy here, aren't we? George knows your favorite recipes, Lucy's ecstatic to have another girl around, and I— well, I . . ."

"You . . . ?" Hope, like you've never felt before, rushed through you. Your ears could hear a pin drop with how attentive you were then.

Much to your disappointment, he cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair. "I would hate to lose a friend."

It was flattering, truly, but you were hoping for more than that. Perhaps an indication that the kiss three years ago had actually meant something. When he said nothing about it, you reverted back to assuming your affections were unrequited. Dejected, you thumbed at the pages of the photobook.

"I won't be leaving soon, and we'd still be friends when I move somewhere else," you reassure. You found it hard to get the words out. There was a prickling feeling behind your eyes you tried to bat away. You turned your attention to the flower options splayed on the coffee table. You were seeing, but you weren't absorbing anything. "I'll be here a while so you don't have to worry."

"Right..." He sounded even more dejected than you. You fought the urge to look up at him with every fiber of your being.

Your heart fell when he got up and abandoned you in the library. Even if you were surrounded by photographs of weddings—the happiest day of some lucky people's lives—you couldn't find a drop of joy when Lockwood had taken all of it with him.

—

The thing about realizations were that they always came late. Especially for someone as dense as Anthony Lockwood.

When he had turned the events of that night over in his head, he realized that he had been a fool. He was saying something, but he wasn't actually getting a message across. For someone who valued verbal affirmation, you must have felt alienated.

He had resolved to apologize, and apologize thoroughly. He had put on his best suit under his coat and picked his best shoes (the only ones without plasma burns) before heading to the site you told Lucy you were heading to that day. He sacrificed his five turns in the biscuit rotation to get the information from her, but he couldn't be too mad about it when he finally laid his eyes on you.

You traded your usual trousers and blouse in for a dress. Not that you weren't pretty in trousers and blouses, but the fact that your dress was white altered something in his brain. Something was wrong with him. Could have been anticipation. Could have been the terrible urge to get down on one knee.

He shook his head, putting that idea on the back burner. He was there to grovel for forgiveness. He had to apologize before all else.

Lockwood, with reborn inspiration, approached. Striding closer and closer—eyes trained on you.

Only one thing was on his mind, and that one fact may have been the cause of his downfall, because he hadn't seen the toy at the lip of the pool before it was too late.

Your face grew further and further until his body had broke the surface of the water. For a moment, he couldn't breathe. All he could see was blue. All he could feel was the cold. A sharp inhale hurt. Opening his eyes stung.

Once his feet reached the bottom of the pool, sense returned to him. He kicked off, gasping for air when he reached the surface. Another splash forced him to shut his eyes.

Then he heard it: The frantic way you were calling his name.

Your hair was matted to your head and drips of water slid down your face, yet, you looked as majestic as ever. You were a vision. His voice had been stolen, perhaps his heart, too (as if it wasn't already).

He regained feeling in his face when you set your hands on his cheeks. Then the world came rushing back. The splashing of water, the commotion that caused passerbys to run, and your voice that called to him above all that.

"Anthony? Anthony! Oh, heavens, are you okay?" You smoothed the hair away from his eyes. He wondered if you knew that it made him love you even more. "That was terrible fall. Are you hurt? Bleeding?"

He shouldn't be enjoying your doting when you were so obviously stressed over his condition, but how could he think straight when you were at arm's length—just this close to touching lips with him.

And you were touching him. Your palms were warm on his cheeks, cozied up under his ears. You could feel him smile if you wanted to.

It was no place or time to think about kissing you. He had talked himself out of it countless times before, but his restraint crumbled the moment he witnessed your teeth sink into the plush of your bottom lip.

He knew it was your nervoud tick, but his mind went blank. He seared every detail into his memory before he threw caution to the wind.

He found your waist, clutched your dress, and drew you to him with the urgency that had been restrained for years.

He's not sure whether you kissed back right away, but he did know that you were. Just as eager as he was.

With ignited confidence, he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Your fingers carded into his hair and you clung to his shoulders for stability.

It was painfully obvious that Touch was your specialty. Every brush of your fingertips set fire across his skin. He wouldn't forget it, even if he tried. His arms wound around you, his palm finding the back of your neck to hold you fast to him.

For a second, you parted. He caught a glimpse of your dazed eyes and ephemeral smile before you brought your lips down on his once more. You could very well be the death of him.

The belief grew stronger as you grew bolder, shifting to be able to wrap your legs around him. Squeezing your thighs against waist and warranting a gasp. You felt the rumble against your lips and beneath your fingers, earning a smile.

You would have done so much worse if a rigid scoff hadn't cut through the lavender haze.

He pulled away. You blinked, still encroached by the spur of the moment. The smell of chlorine polluted the space between you, but that only made your senses heighten. You were staring at Lockwood as water clung to his lashes. He was smiling at you, and you were smiling just as much. His thumb drew circled into your waist, and your fingers grazed the nape of his neck. It was chilling, in the best way.

The scoff came again, stealing your attention. Both of you looked up at the hotel manager with sheepish grins.

"Hello, sir," Lockwood started, amping up his charm with a disarming laugh. "Contrary to what you may be thinking, this didn't happen in purpose."

The hotel manager didn't buy any of it. He raised a practiced brow and regarded Lockwood with a frown that rivaled a wishbone.

There was no corporate talk that would get you out of this. You chuckled, patting Lockwood's back for the good try, but you already knew security was on the way.

"I take it that you're not hurt?" you murmured to Lockwood.

"No. In case I am, would you like to take my shirt off and take a look for yourself?"

You two had to walk home in soaked clothes, but you did take him up on his offer. Excitedly, too. Suffice to say, he didn't have a bruise on him.

—

You and Lockwood had returned to your roots; a peaceful game of chess. You had the upper hand on the board but Lockwood felt like a winner just seeing you in his shirt.

"Just in case it wasn't clear, I'd like to be more than friends," he said. He had lost another bishop but he was fine with it because you smiled at him.

"Yes. I know that now, Anthony."

"I don't want to just be friends with benefits either."

You snorted, amused. "I understand that, too."

He didn't move a piece until you looked at him. "It would pain me if you moved out. Three years apart was bad enough."

Your gaze softened and you reached across the board to hold his hand. He was the one who laced your fingers together. "I won't be going anywhere."

"Good," he chirped, eyes alight. "because I've already began moving the shelves into the office. You can have the library for work."

Even with your best efforts, you couldn't help but laugh. He bent toward you, wishing he could bottle the sound. "You are ridiculous, you know that?"

"I do," he said, inflating his chest. "and I'd like to be your lover as well."

You cocked a brow. "Would you?"

He squeezed your hand lightly, eyes shining with determination. "I can hear you thinking, sweetheart. What do I have to do to get you to say 'yes'?"

If he hadn't stolen your heart already, the way he raised your hands to his lips and planted a kiss on each of your knuckles would have. His eyes never strayed, honey brown eyes placating yours.

"Sweetheart?" he hummed, pleading for an answer.

You drew out the silence for a little longer. You felt that it was fair for him to suffer, just for a little while. He was the catalyst for years upon years of emotional turmoil.

But he had resolved it all with another kiss, this time on the sweet spot on your wrist—just over your racing pulse.

You were kind enough to put him out of his misery. "Kiss me again."

You were weak for how he smiled then.

"Gladly," he whispered, sliding the board aside and sending the chess pieces toppling to the floor to fulfill your request.

Your complaints were squashed down by his lips. He'd never forget the way you laughed as he tackled you into his bed.

Well, it was yours now, too.

NOTE ➺ did you notice that everyone calls reader 'trouble' but lockwood calls her 'sweetheart' 👀👀 i want what they have.

i have so many ideas lined up for my boy, but i just don't have much time to write them. life got busy lol.

anyway, this is the first of many 1989 TV songfics!! master list for the whole collection will be out on 1989 TV release day, I promise. i'll do my best to finish more wips because you can never have too much anthony lockwood.

i've also been thinking about making a tag list but I'm not sure how to go about that...

as always, don't be shy to leave some feedback, constructive criticism, or cute lil comments! i love raving about my boy 💙 i hope you enjoyed this one, because this isn't the last of me!

⌠ @novelizt 2023 ⌡

#— ❨ 🌺 ❩ 𝐋𝐈𝐙𝐙𝐈𝐄'𝐒 𝐔𝐓𝐎𝐏𝐈𝐀 ₊˚.༄#anthony lockwood fanfiction #anthony lockwood fluff #anthony lockwood angst #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #lockwood x reader #lockwood x y/n #lockwood and co fanfiction #lockwood x you #1989 TV songfic collection

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sketchy--akechi · 1 month

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Shuake/Akeshu Reunion

If you were tasked to make THE Shuake/Akeshu Reunion, how would you write it/how would it play out. How long would Goro have been MIA for, and how would Akira have dealt with it? Give me all your thoughts on this. I wanna know ABSOLUTELY everything on how you'd have them come back together. Would it be them just meeting by chance on day on the street? Or would another Metaverse Shenanigans thing be going on and they would meet that way?

Okay okay okay. First of all. HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO PICK ONE If we're talking about fics, I love any and all forms of Shuake reunions. Metaverse shenanigans are great but them running into each other at the nearest 7 Eleven is equally as great. Or Akechi randomly showing up at Leblanc one day or in Akira's hometown. Or as part of the Shadow OPs. Seriously shoutout to each and every writer who made a Shuake reunion fic they're all great and I love you all BUT JUST FOR THIS ASK. FOR THE SAKE OF GIVING A COHERENT ANSWER. Let's assume I'm a writer at Atlus for one day and I could write the canon reunion (Atlus please hire me) Then I would really really like to pick up the scrapped idea of an Akechi palace again. Like imagine a new P5 game, about yet another form of the Metaverse appearing and the Thieves investigating, and slowly but surely they realize that they're in Akechi's palace, and Akechi is in a weird state between alive and dead AND THEY HAVE TO SAVE HIM- Ideally it would be a Royal-centric spin-off, so maybe it's just Akira and Sumi rescuing Akechi so there can be a bigger focus on the Royal Trio relationship (no offense to the other Thieves but we got enough spin-off games about them LMAO) I get the feeling that Akira would show his emotions more openly if the other Thieves aren't there, and if there's a reunion after 2/2, I REALLY need it to be emotional ya know, if Atlus portrayed Akira as a blank state self insert during a moment like this when we all know that Akechi was his biggest wish in Maruki's reality then I will. pick a fight

Also I need a hug. I don't care if it's just something like, Akechi falling unconscious and Akira catching him I NEED A HUG I NEED PHYSICAL INTIMACY BETWEEN THEM

I also need a new Metaverse outfit for Akechi based on Hereward because we all know it would slap so hard

THAT'S ALL I HAVE FOR NOW. PLEASE ADD YOUR THOUGHTS BELOW. BE CAREFUL THOUGH OR LIZ WILL HAVE TO MAKE YET ANOTHER GOROGAME

#txt #asks

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reareaotaku · 4 months

Text

Jane 'Eleven' Hopper & Maxine 'Max' Mayfield Headcanons

What a combo

At first, Eleven competed with Max for your attention

Eleven saw Max as competition because you became close with Max while Eleven was gone

When Eleven hurt Max, you confronted her

"What is wrong with you?" You yell at her as she's near tears

"Why do you like her more than me?"

"What are you talking about?" You shake your head, "I don't like Max more than you! You're both my friend."

She frowns, "I was your friend first-"

You sigh, sitting down in front of Eleven, "I know you don't get social cues, but you can have more than one friend. Besides," You gesture your hands out, "Max is great. You'll love her if you get to know her"

Max had tried being friends with Eleven, but Eleven denied her. So, imagine Max's surprise when Eleven finally started being nice to her

They both start hanging out without you and they realize they have one huge thing in common; They both like you

They realize they have a better chance working together than against each other

They're like the opposites of each other, so whatever one has the other has the other side [They are the same coin but different sides if that makes more sense]

Eleven doesn't always understand your problems, so you find it easier to talk to Max

Though, if you ever have a problem with someone, Eleven is more than willing to help you 'fix' it

Max is the more outgoing out of your trio and she plans you all going out and such

People suspect you all are closer than you appear, but you're a bunch of girls, so they just see you as girl best friends

Lots of sleep overs [Usually at either your house or Eleven's]

They're both really protective over you

They'll hurt anyone that messes with you

#female reader #jane hopper x reader #jane hopper #stranger things #yandere stranger things #yandere jane hopper #eleven #yandere eleven #yandere eleven x reader #yandere jane hopper x reader #max mayfield #max mayfield x reader #stranger things x reader #yandere stranger things x reader #yandere x reader #maxine mayfield #maxine mayfield x reader #stranger things x you

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futbol16 · 1 year

Text

You Can Smile? • Ona Batlle

I’ve really enjoyed writing this so I hope you like it too!

Request: If you can, maybe a Ona x Reader. Reader is known as someone who is brutal on and off the pitch. This is due to rumors spread around by an ex. Maybe Reader has a few scars on her face and that makes her intimidating because that adds to a few factors like her height and athletic build. But in reality she is a big softy and Ona sees that when she sees R helping a fan after almost being crushed. After witnessing that encounter she observes R for the next few days and sees that R is actually a gentlewoman, holding doors, pulling out chairs, reaching things for people and packing training stuff away. Ona and Reader share a room after being moved around and slowly they get closer. Maybe in a game Ona gets tackled(badly) R gets angry and is just a powerhouse for the rest of the game. Maybe it ends with R being soft towards Ona in front of everyone in the locker room and carrying her to their own room and just hugging her(spooning) in bed with a confession and Ona having to ask R out on a date because R is too shy and can't get the words out. 🤷‍♀️ sorry for rambling. I just love your Ona fics!(:

Word count: 3,9k

Your transfer has been one of the biggest signings of the summer, Chelsea’s star midfielder who hasn’t renewed her contract and a bunch of European clubs wanting her. Everyone expected you to follow your national teammate, Georgia to Germany, but to the fan’s surprise, you chose Manchester. Although many hoped you’d stay true to your colors with the blue jersey, Man United’s welcome post made it clear you were now one of the reds. While some thought you made the wrong decision and should have stayed at Chelsea, the United fans and team welcomed you with open arms and you happily reunited England’s infamous trio.

Alessia and Ella couldn’t have been more excited about the prospect of having you on their team and soon the rest of the girls were hyped about your arrival too. The two practically jumped on top of you on your first training session and though the pair of them told the rest of the team the rumors about you were false, they were still unconvinced.

You intrigued Ona, the second she saw you Ona knew she wanted to get to know you. However, that was easier said than done. Your departure from Chelsea was for many reasons, all minor in your opinion, but your relationship ending had been the last straw for you and you left your childhood club. The rumors your ex had spread, the not so subtle hinting at your short temper and unapproachable demeanor left your teammates and the Spaniard to believe that you were going to be cold and stoic.

It was their first impression of you, even after you’ve been introduced to them and have been their teammate for weeks they still only saw that side of you, the rumored side.

Ona watched as you got handed a ball upon entering the pitch and you made your way over to Ella while kicking at the ball. She let her eyes roam over your body. Staring at your face and she let her gaze linger on the scar just below your right eyebrow, there was a similar one next to your chin on the curve of your jaw. It made your already impassive expression look even scarier.

“What’s up soldier?” Tooney’s voice breaks her out of her trance and Ona watches as you nod at the brunette in greeting before passing the ball to her. Again, she was lost as she observed you skillfully control the ball as you warmed up with Ella. Sooner than expected, she’s sent to line up as the game is about to start.

You’re proud to say it only took you three matches to make the starting eleven and though you don’t show it with a smile, you make sure to give it your all during the game as a thank you to the fans supporting your team in the stands.

Another reason the United team thinks you’re cold is because of your playing style. You were not one to mess with, that’s it and everyone you ever faced knew this. You were brutal during matches, not afraid to get carded as you fought for the badge over your heart and cockily rubbing it into the opponent’s face when you scored. It was a sight to see, the passion you had for the game was one that many admired, Ona being one of them.

She wouldn’t admit to watching you more than paying attention at practice though.

Still, your chemistry with the team is undeniable. It’s as if you’ve been playing with them since day 1 and Manchester United seem like an unbeatable team now.

Yet another ball passes the keeper’s gloves and you show off your signature celebration, no hint of a smile on your face as you silence the crowd.

“YES SOLDIER, YES!” Tooney’s shout is one that almost deafens you but Ona grins at the way your lips twitch upwards. It’s been months since your signing, yet she still wasn’t over just how good you were. You fit in perfectly and it made her even more motivated to not let the opponents close to goal. Truly, your team was one to fear.

Manchester derby is a game that everyone looks forward to, the blues against the reds, City against United. The rivalry is huge, the talent is there but what matters is the score line after those 90’ minutes.

Both teams come in strong but the Red Devils know the outcome of the match by half-time.

Mary is set on having a clean sheet, Ona and Millie are stopping players advancing any chance they get and Alessia, Ella and yourself are linking up in the best way possible up front.

The crowd is wild at the close to sold out stadium when Man United win 3-1 and for the first time ever you flash a smile to the people, many of them screaming louder than before.

Both teams decide to make their rounds around the stadium thanking their fans and you pair off with Maya and Ona as you sign autographs.

Ona’s struggling to sign a shirt and you move over to help her, stretching out the material to make it easier to write. She doesn’t know why but her cheeks are burning at the close proximity and she hides a smile.

“Thank you” she mutters out and you unknowingly smile down at her, a tiny smile but nonetheless an incredibly rare sight.

“OH MY GOD, SHE JUST SMILED!”

“Y/N! Y/N!” shouts of your name have you looking up, the smile gone from your face and Ona glances up at you as you straighten up.

She takes notice of the furrow of your eyebrows and the way your eyes jump around the mass of people as if trying to spot someone. With a gentle hand on her shoulder, almost as if excusing yourself, you step aside and closer to the people. The Spaniard watches on curiously as you’re enveloped by too many people to count.

“Aye! Back up a bit, will ya?” your strong voice rings out and you step up to the railing as you reach down on the other side. They don’t all listen though and you’re forced to nudge the people away. “Watch out!”

The short brunette has now walked over to you and her eyes widen as you pull a child out of the crowd, a little boy who looks close to tears. A harsh glare is sent to the man behind the kid who realizes his mistake of almost crushing the boy against the railing but before he could apologize you’ve already turned your attention back to the boy.

Ona peers over your shoulder, as much as she can and she listens to how your voice suddenly comes out in a soft, comforting tone. It even has her feeling at ease as you talk to the boy, making sure he’s okay.

“You wanna come with me buddy?” He looks to be around 8 years old but he enthusiastically nods at your words and you quickly check with his parents before placing him in your neck. Ona lets out a giggle as the boy jumps up and down as you carry him around and you turn to her at the sound of the sweet voice.

“Your face is the same shade of red as your shirt” Millie snorts from next to her and Ona jumps at the sound.

“What do you mean?” she questions even though she knows the answer. Millie laughs at her fake confusion.

“I mean you’ve got the hots for soldier over there.” the blonde points after you and Ona slaps her hand away making sure no one saw. The defender raises an amused eyebrow at the action. “Just talk to her, she can’t be that scary. That kid seems to be having a whole lotta fun with her, so you know, maybe try” she shrugs.

“What? You want me to get on her shoulders?” Ona is beyond confused now and concerned for her friend who doubles over in laughter.

“Sure, if that’s like a kink of yours” Millie continues laughing on the ground as Ona only stares at her blankly, searching for the term of the unknown word but her eyes once again find your form and the dreamy look is back on her face.

She’s never seen you be so soft, so different from what the team was warned you’d be like. It wasn’t necessarily that they all believed the rumors spread about you, but they’ve truly only ever seen the ruthless and intimidating Y/N on the pitch and they didn’t know what you were like off it. The hurtful jabs at you from your ex at Chelsea didn’t help your case either, but this unexpected act of kindness and protectiveness from you had Ona shining a light on you.

It opened her eyes and throughout the next few days she observed your behavior with the team.

She took notice of the way you’d make sure to greet every staff member in sight when arriving at the training grounds and how you would often help them carry equipment out for training and then stay after to clean up as you shared small talk with the coaching and assistant staff. Unlike any other time, you gave them genuine smiles, though still little, they were there nevertheless and she knew they were grateful for your help.

She even noticed the lack of trouble Alessia now had with keeping herself upright. The English woman was known for her clumsiness and tripping over everything, mostly her own legs though. Since you’ve arrived the number of times she’d end up on the ground decreased and Ona is sure the blonde could only thank you for that. It was at one of the team lunches that she spotted your foot inching closer to the leg of Alessia’s chair before pushing it closer to the blonde who was standing. If it weren’t for you she would’ve missed her seat by a mile trying to sit back down.

All these little things had Ona realizing that you were far from what the rumors said about you, those rumors were indeed just rumors and totally wrong.

She was now eager to properly get to know you and get closer to you.

It seems like God heard her wishes, or maybe it was just Marc because the next away game Manchester has the two of you get roomed together.

“You can have the bed by the window if you want?” you look at the defender asking the question and you raise an eyebrow remembering that she liked to be closer to the window.

“Why? Don’t you want it?” she shrugs at you.

“Maybe, but if you want it then you can have it” you know your façade is breaking when you almost smile but you stick to jokingly rolling your eyes.

“Ona, you can have it, I’m good with the other one.” Even though the other bed looked to be a bit too close to the wall, no doubt whoever would be sleeping on it wouldn’t get much sleep with the way things were positioned, but you still thought it was a silly thing to be discussing. You’d much rather have Ona well rested and happy.

“Gracias” the Spanish slips out and she gives you a sheepish look, her cheeks pink.

The pair of you unknowingly form a routine the first few days before the friendly against Birkirkara. You get ready for the day together, pulling clothes on while making conversation, Ona waiting for you after practices, sometimes joining you and the staff in packing away and in the evening after a long day with the team you shower before her, ending the day with late night conversations.

It made you wonder why you only just befriended the short defender, but you’re happy you’ve finally had the courage to talk to her. It wasn’t a very well known fact, probably only your England teammates knew about just how shy you could be, especially around pretty women.

The fourth day of the week soon arrives and your team is delighted by the number of fans supporting them despite the match being held far from England. Manchester United bring their best selves and by half-time the reds are up 6-0, yourself scoring a massive goal with a rabona kick. The game is one all of you enjoy and you fight off a smile when Ona gets another assist, and the team another goal.

However, in the 84’th minute a rather mistimed tackle involving your favorite defender ends with her staying on the ground. You’re quick to get to her and with a gentle hand on her side you search for her gaze.

“You okay Ona?” she gives you a weak nod as she holds onto her thigh and as one of the medics gets to the two of you, you’re informed she strained her quad and would need to get subbed off. When the brunette attempts to limp off on her own you chase after her and allow her to lean most of her weight on you. One of her hands lands on your stomach and Ona stumbles over her feet as she feels your muscles flex under her palm. Her eyes widen as they stare at your jersey clad front and she tries to play it cool once she realizes she is caught staring.

It isn’t only Millie and Vilde smirking at her, but also Maya, Ella and surprisingly yourself too. Though just before she could open her mouth to stutter out an excuse the two of you reach the sidelines and you leave her there with the medic, only after you’ve given her shoulder a quick squeeze.

For the remaining six minutes of the match and added injury time Ona watches in amazement as you transform into a damn tank, practically bulldozing over the other team as you try to create as many chances as humanly possible. 3 more goals later the game ends in a 12-0 victory for the Red Devils and Marc is jumping up and down in ecstasy as he grabs you and Alessia in a bone crushing hug before he moves onto the rest of the girls.

Your eyes are already set on Ona but just as you are about to make your way over a small hand tugs at your arm. You look down curiously at the Maltese mascot, giving her a gentle look when she smiles at you shyly.

“I can have your shirt?” you have to lean down to her level to hear her request muttered in broken English, but you nod at her, flashing her a big smile. She squeals in excitement, lips splitting in a wide grin as you pull your shirt off and hand it to her. She pushes a marker into your hand, yourself laughing at her enthusiasm as you sign the shirt and you send her on her way with a ruffle of her hair.

The smile stays on your face as you get to Ona and Ella doesn’t waste a second to comment on it.

“Miss tough is showing happiness? Would you look at that” her teasing isn’t meant to be offensive, but you drop the smile in a way that has her baking away with raised hands. She buys your joke as she leaps onto Alessia and commands the blonde to escort her to the changing rooms. Finally, you reach the girl and check up on her.

“How is your leg?” Ona is completely deaf to anything you say as her eyes roam over your upper body, taking in your athletic build. Her stare lingers on your full shoulders and biceps, her mouth watering and she chokes on her saliva once she spots your abs. There’s an amused glint in your eyes and you glance back at Millie in question, but she’s doubled over and laughing loudly at the brunette in front of you. You shrug at their behaviors and instead bring Ona closer to you as you help her walk to the changing rooms.

The Spanish girl’s whole body heats up as you help her out and eventually carry her to your shared room once you get to the hotel. She clings onto your shoulders with a tight grip that has you wondering if Lucia was right and Ona really is aroused by your muscular body.

Much like the past few nights your routine is the same but as Ona hops out of the bathroom and gets under the sheets with a bit of struggle she turns to you expectantly.

“What?” you ask and she raises her head from her pillow.

“I wanna talk to you” she says like it’s the most obvious thing.

“I thought you would be too tired to talk” there’s a silly smile on her lips, one that has you swooning as she invites you to her bed.

“To you? Never” it is no secret that the two of you have become extremely close during the past week, the pair of you glued to each other's side, a rather unexpected friendship and you hope the defender hasn’t yet noticed your less than platonic feelings for her.

She shuffles over in the bed and pats the space next to her, urging you to climb under the blanket. Once you settle by her side you take a moment to just look at her. The soft glow of the lights from the street give her already beautiful face an even more angelic look and you melt under the warmth of her own gaze on you.

“Why do they call you soldier?” she breaks the silence, genuine confusion lacing her voice and you stifle a laugh.

“It’s my last name, the name on the back of my shirt.” you clarify and Ona hides her face in embarrassment as you laugh at her. “It’s Saldjer but it is pronounced soldier.”

“It fits you.” she nods towards you and though she can’t see the massive grin on your face she can hear it in your voice. You’ve found yourself smiling a lot more in her presence and you got tired of trying to hide it, she made you feel giddy and you couldn’t help it.

“Yeah, so I’ve been told.” she thinks for a second, another second where you allow your eyes to wander over her freckle littered face.

“That doesn’t sound English though, I mean the spelling.” she points out, hoping to learn another interesting thing about you.

“It’s the Serbian way of spelling, at least that’s what my dad said.”

“You’re half Serbian?” her ears perk up and you hum at her question, though soon she has trouble keeping her eyes open, the game from earlier and the scare of an injury taking its toll on her.

“Go to sleep, Onita, yeah?” just as you’re about to get up from her bed a hand reaches out to grasp your shirt, keeping you from standing up.

“Stay, Y/N, please” there’s no way you could say no to her, especially not with the way she says your name in that sleepy smooth voice of hers and you find yourself curling up by her side as you pull the blanket over the two of you.

You listen to her breathing until once again her hand reaches behind her as she finds your arm she pulls it around herself, effectively forcing you to spoon her. Not to misunderstand the situation, you are not complaining one bit but you’re afraid she can feel your heart beating out of your chest that’s pressed to her back. You hope she’s already asleep. Ona smiles to herself.

“Why is your heart beating so fast?” your breath is caught in your throat as you think of how to answer her and you consider just waiting for her to fall asleep, she couldn’t be far from it.

“Y/N?” she turns to you, suddenly the tiredness is gone from her body and you go to pull your arm away that still lays over her side but she grabs it, keeping it in place before you could do so.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you squeak out, cursing yourself for being so nervous.

“Are you sure?” the teasing is clear in her voice, but she means no harm.

“Yes, Ona, like it’s like always like this” you rush out trying to convince her, your breath hitching when she slides a hand up your arm and squeezes at your bicep. “For example today during the game- wait that’s a stupid example- then on the bus -” a soft giggle cuts your sentence short and you exhale in embarrassment.

“You’re telling me your heart is always like this?” her palm is now laying flat on your chest, right above your heart and her eyes soften at the rapid beating. You really do care for her and it has her feeling butterflies in her stomach.

“Mhm, like always” you quickly nod, only stopping the movement when Ona’s hand cups your cheek, her finger running over the small scar next to your chin, right on the curve of your jaw. You instinctively lean into the warm touch, your eyes fluttering closed for a second.

“So it’s not because of me?” the defender has no idea as to where her confidence is coming from but the adoring look in your eyes assure her of what she’s thinking.

“I-um..I-” you clench your jaw at your stuttering. You haven’t been like this in years, the last time was when asking out your ex and you definitely weren’t doing that right now so what was your problem. Ona’s thumb rubs gentle circles into the skin of your cheek and you release the breath you’ve been holding.

“Relax Y/N, there’s no reason for you to be nervous around me, I feel the same” your eyes widen comically and you’re about to deny the accusation but you’re too far gone.

“Can I like- on a date? Ask you with me?” the words come out all jumbled and Ona giggles at your flustered state, this time you laugh with her feeling less embarrassed about the situation knowing that she feels the same.

“Let me try” she pokes at your shoulder in a teasing manner and you know you’ve got nothing to hide from Ona, this is the same girl you’ve spent quietly sharing your thoughts with every night before going to sleep this week, you don’t need to be scared of her reaction.

“Would you like to go on a date with me, Y/N? Maybe tomorrow?”

“Yes, yeah I’d love to” you beam at her and she scoots closer to you.

You think she’s only going to give you a kiss on the cheek in that real Spanish manner but as you feel her breath on your lips you know what she wants and you’re far less shy about this part. With a final glance in her warm brown eyes that you can just about make out in the dark room you finally close the distance between the two of you and you seal the deal with a soft, loving kiss. Once again you can not help but smile in her presence and as Ona smiles into the kiss too you’re forced to break away.

The two of you are smiling at each other like two crazy teenagers in love but you like the way she makes you feel and you hold onto one another tightly as you both drift off to sleep, Ona snuggled in your arms.

Perhaps you would start smiling more.

#ona batlle x reader #woso imagine #futbol16 #woso x reader

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sweetcherryharry · 1 year

Text

Begin Again — 02

Synopsis: Harry and Y/N had a secret relationship for almost two years, until they broke up. A year later, she shows up at one of his Love On Tour shows.

(masterlist)

Y/N wasn’t sure what her best option was. She had three running through her mind, trying to decide in just a few seconds what the best possible outcome could be.

One, she could simply act as if she had never read that message. After all, she never opened his texts, she just read them through her notifications on her phone’s lock screen. She could simply reply in half an hour that she didn’t see them on time and that she was already close to her home, and that the show was amazing.

This way, she’d simply avoid what she dreaded the most; the awkward conversation about how they’ve been.

Two, she could simply stay in the pit and follow what he told her; wait for a bodyguard to retrieve her to get her backstage. It wouldn’t be the first time, but the difference was that this time, she wasn’t alone, and they weren’t dating anymore. She’d need to tell both Maia and Natalie about the little huge secret she kept.

They didn’t know anything about it because Y/N had become close friends with them until the pandemic ended and life returned to normal —going back to classes on January 2022— and by that time, she had recently ended things with Harry.

They had broken up in December 2021 and throughout that semester (August-December), she had been traveling with him on his North America tour, meaning she decided to take all of her classes online, even though some of them were already offered to be on campus with a facemask on.

But then, after the breakup, she came back to the California campus for her final semester, ready to graduate in the summer, which she did. There was where she became a very close friend to Maia and Natalie, so technically, she never lied to them about it.

She had mentioned months ago that she had an ex-boyfriend, and how they dated for almost two years before things got complicated and broke up. And yes, she had told them his name was Harry, but that was about it.

She wasn’t sure how her friends would react if the Harry she had told them about was nonetheless, Harry fucking Styles.

And finally, her third option would be to tell her friends that she’ll make her way home later and that they should start getting ahead. What excuse was she going to tell them? She had no idea. And honestly… she knew that neither Maia nor Natalie would want to leave her alone, so this option was almost impossible.

“Are you okay?” Natalie interrupted her thoughts, and that’s when Y/N noticed she had been stuck in her tracks, staring at her screen while she tried to figure out what she should do. “You’ve been standing there for about a minute looking at your phone.”

Maia and Natalie were both looking at her with concern, and for a moment, Y/N felt somehow bad that she was ruining their good moods with her own worries. Minutes earlier, they were thrilled, ranting about the show nonstop, and now, it seemed like the mood between the trio died a little.

Y/N was highly expressive with her facial features, which was both a curse and a blessing, and for that, she knew she couldn’t lie about how she was feeling. But, that didn’t mean she couldn’t say a tiny white lie to lift their concerns.

“Yeah, nothing to worry about,” She shrugged their concerns off, plastering a smile on her lips, “I just got a reminder of something work-related, a few things I need to get done before Monday.”

Maia groaned, “I don’t even want to talk about work right now, I miss being a university student, and simply pushing all the work for Sunday night.” Her comment made the girls laugh, remembering the stress they’d feel trying to complete a whole long assignment in just three hours.

“Stressful times,” Natalie commented with a chuckle, before checking the hour on her own phone, “It’s almost eleven, do you guys want to crash over at my apartment, or do you want to go out?”

And that’s when Y/N decided which was her best option, to leave right now with her friends and act like Harry never asked her to stay back to meet with her backstage. Her past relationship would remain a secret, and she wouldn’t have to explain everything to her friends.

Later in the night, she’ll simply reply that she didn’t see it in time and that the show was amazing.

“Even though I’m just 23, I’m tired already. So much jumping, dancing, and screaming.” Maia replied, to which Y/N agreed. “I’d love to crash at your place and just order some takeout.”

“Perfect,” Natalie replied, and hooked both of her arms with her friends, “Shall we?”

As the three girls resumed their way to the exit of the pit —which was already more on the empty side— they talked about the number of feathers that decorated the floor. It was crazy, really, the number of colors that fans brought to each show.

Y/N loved it.

“Wait!” Maia stopped the girls, and turned to look at them with a grin, “let’s record a quick Tiktok! The one where you stand in the pit with a straight face, and the song Static plays up, and you’re like ‘the concert ended, what now?’”

But before Y/N could say that she wasn’t sure about it, due to the fact that she wanted to leave the place as soon as possible and avoid the bodyguard who’ll come to retrieve her in a few minutes, Maia was already pulling both girls to the barricade alongside her.

In the blink of an eye, Maia had already handed her phone to a random fan who was standing nearby, and the three girls stood side by side. Y/N was wearing her green and black outfit, while Maia wore pink and Natalie yellow.

“Three… two… one!” The girl who was recording them announced to them that the Tiktok was now recording, and the three girls remained serious, their eyes locked on the camera as the girl recording took a few steps back, just like the trend. “Done! I loved it.”

“Thank you so much!” Y/N replied, taking Maia’s phone in her hands. She was beginning to feel nervous, the quicker they left, the less probability there was that she would be approached. The girl simply smiled at her, mumbling a ‘you’re welcome’ and went with her friend, leaving the trio behind.

Y/N handed Maia her phone, and the short-haired girl was quick to post it, typing a quick caption and adding the harrystyles and lotnight5 hashtags, along with tagging Natalie’s and Y/N’s users.

“Okay, now let’s go!”

And as the trio started to take steps away from the barricade, Y/N let out a deliberately quiet exhale, relief filling her body a few seconds later as she finally crossed the exit doors from the pit and unto the outside of the Kia Forum.

But, that relief she felt for those few seconds didn’t last long.

As the girls started to make their way unto the hallway that led to the parking lot, the girl in the green outfit felt a gentle, yet sturdy hand on her shoulder, making her turn around to look for the owner of the extremity, who was now looking for her attention.

Y/N swore she felt her heart falling to her feet as she saw who was now in front of her. It wasn’t a regular bodyguard or another fan that had stopped her —no— it was none other than Jeff, Harry’s manager and someone she had many conversations with (both pleasant and non-pleasant) in the past. He was a friend to her, but he was still Harry’s manager, and he needed to take some decisions from time to time that she didn’t like.

He wore a facemask that covered half of his face, and to disguise himself, he wore a Kia Forum Staff vest, just like the people around the place who worked at the arena. Obviously, he wasn’t dumb enough to come out to the hallways of the Kia Forum with nothing hiding who he truly was, since he knew he’d be surrounded by fans who would recognize him.

“Y/N?” He asked lowly, trying not to raise suspicion or catch fans’ attention.

“Hey Jeff,” Y/N exclaimed, using a low voice too, putting on a forced smile on her lips. It wasn’t that she wasn’t happy to see him, she used to get along really well with him, but the circumstances were the ones that she didn’t like much. “How you’ve been?”

She knew that there was no escaping now; she’ll face her ex-boyfriend after one of his concerts.

Great.

“I’ve been doing really well, thank you,” Jeff replied and pulled her in for a friendly hug, which she reciprocated. He hadn’t seen her in quite a while, the last time had been almost a year ago when Harry and Y/N had broken up. “How about you?”

She could see the concern in his brown eyes, knowing that his question didn’t mean just how she had been feeling lately, but how has she been ever since the breakup.

“Doing much better now.” She replies honestly, making him nod. “What about you? How is everyone?”

Jeff smiled, and even though she couldn’t see his lips, she could see the way his face changed behind the face mask, “Glenne and I have been great, now almost two years since we got married, time flies.”

Glenne was Jeff’s wife, and Y/N loved the woman. The four of them would hang out from time to time, and even though there was a slight age difference between the two women, they got along really well.

“It truly does, I still remember those few days before your wedding when both Glenne and you couldn’t stop rambling about your special day.” As Y/N said those words, she couldn’t help but feel a bittersweet sensation.

She had attended Jeff and Glenn's wedding back on January 2021 and she had been Harry’s official partner to it, yet it was almost like she hadn’t been. Instead of standing by his boyfriend’s side during the ceremony and holding hands with him, she had been on the opposite side of the place, standing alone as Harry held hands with Olivia.

When the ceremony had ended and everyone moved to the party, her boyfriend finally spent the rest of the night with her. Since it had been in a private location, there were no more public appearances that needed to be done, and Olivia had finally gone home.

It was until the party then that Harry was by her side all the time, dancing and singing, constantly telling her how much he loved her.

Y/N had enjoyed that night so much, yet at the same time, she hadn’t.

“Yeah, I remember.” Jeff chuckled, and after a few seconds of comfortable silence, he glanced towards a door a few meters away that said ‘Staff Only’, where two guards were standing, checking that nobody tried to sneak in backstage. “He told me to look for you to get you backstage…”

She felt her nerves increase, knowing that it was all getting very real now. “I know.”

“If you don’t want to meet him, I’ll tell him that I didn’t find you.” He gave her a way to back out of this, knowing that the ex-couple hadn’t seen each other in a very long time, and the last time they had, it had been filled with pure heartbreak and tears. “I’m still your friend.”

She let out a deep breath, weighing down her options.

And as she did, she felt a hand squeeze her arm lightly, making her remember that she wasn’t alone. Talking to Jeff had filled her mind with memories of the countless days they had spent joking around on tour.

Y/N turned to look at the two worried and confused faces of Maia and Natalie, slightly turning her back to Jeff.

“You okay?” Maia mouthed to her, not wanting to cause a scene if her friend didn’t actually know this man or wanted to converse with him.

She nodded, “Yeah, he’s a good old friend.” Y/N gave them a reassuring smile.

Natalie quickly glanced at him above Y/N’s shoulder, and smiled playfully, “If he has access to backstage, tell him to get us Harry’s autograph, and we’ll pay him!” She jokingly (which wasn’t much of a joke) whispered to her.

Y/N stayed silent for a few seconds, knowing that there was a small, deep part of her that would hate herself if she let this opportunity pass. Even though she was scared to talk to him, to see him again after everything, she knew that she’d regret not doing it.

Besides, her close friends deserved the truth about her so-called ex.

“Yeah, about that…” Y/N turned to look at Jeff, and gave him a quick nod, telling him in a simple gesture her final answer, before turning to look at her two friends. “You’re about to meet him.”

sorry it took so long! but finally, here is pt2 to 'begin again' :)

taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @one-sweet-gubler @jjsgirlp4l @lovingmesstuff @gem1712 @tinyhrry @kipperthedog2004 @behindmygreyeyes @theekyliepage @winterrays @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @itsjustsel @a-strange-familiar @grapejuice-rry @tranquility-moon @tpwksummer @awkwardbisexuall @ameerakane20 @harryspirate

#harrystyles #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry #harry imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles series #love on tour #harry x reader

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mxlfoydraco · 1 year

Note

Which are the Drarry fic that you have re-read more than any other?

These are from my reread pile! The first four several times over. :)

Around You Moves by ignatiustrout (29k)

Harry knew Draco was gay when he invited him to move in. He’s never had a problem with this. So why does he feel so weird about Draco bringing men home all of a sudden?

Number Seven by sara_holmes (253k)

Harry already has small children, an ex-wife, annoying colleagues and an international crime ring to deal with. So when Draco Malfoy reappears after eight years AWOL in France, of course Harry is going to leave him well alone… Right?

Away Childish Things by lettered (153k)

Harry gets de-aged. Malfoy has to help him.

(The Piece) I was Missing All Along by lauren3210 (30k)

Draco and Harry have been flatmates and best friends for years, and Draco thinks life is just perfect that way. But when something comes along and threatens to take all that away, Draco has to decide what it is he really wants, and just how hard he's going to work to get it.

Temptation on the Warfront by alizarincrims0n (180k)

Draco Malfoy is forced into hiding with the Golden Trio and dragged into their search for horcruxes. What ensues is a journey of redemption, unexpected friendships and an unwanted, turbulent romance with Harry Potter. Warnings for swearing, sexual content, and dark themes.

Chaos Theory by Tessa Crowley (102k)

Chaos: when the present determines the future, but the approximate present does not approximately determine the future. One gene varies, one neuron fires, one butterfly flaps its wings, and Draco Malfoy's life is completely different. Draco has always found a certain comfort in chaos. Perhaps he shouldn't.

Hermione Granger's Hogwarts Crammer for Delinquents on the Run by waspabi (93k)

'You're a wizard, Harry' is easier to hear from a half-giant when you're eleven, rather than from some kids on a tube platform when you're seventeen and late for work.

Far From The Tree by aideomai (112k)

The arrival of Harry Potter’s children—snapped back in time, the children themselves guessed, twenty or so years—was the most interesting thing to happen at Hogwarts for years.

Grounds for Divorce by Tepre (122k)

Malfoy finds a coin. Harry finds a letter. A story about histories, a story about families. A story about a lemon tree somewhere in Upper Egypt.

All Our Secrets Laid Bare by @firethesound (2014, E, 150k)

Over the six years Draco Malfoy has been an Auror, four of his partners have turned up dead. Harry Potter is assigned as his newest partner to investigate just what is going on.

Foundations!verse by Saras_Girl (364k)

Harry is about to discover that the steepest learning curve comes after Healer training, and that second chances can be found in unexpected places.

All Life is Yours to Miss by Saras_Girl (114k)

Professor Malfoy’s world is contained, controlled, and as solitary as he can make it, but when an act of petty revenge goes horribly awry, he and his trusty six-legged friend are thrown into Hogwarts life at the deep end and must learn to live, love and let go.

What We Pretend We Can’t See by Gyzym (131k)

Seven years out from the war, Harry learns the hard truth of old history: it’s never quite as far behind you as you thought.

Here’s The Pencil, Make It Work by ignatiustrout (49k)

Harry thinks “Why is Malfoy working in a coffee shop in muggle London?” is a much simpler question than, “Are you going to accept that auror offer and, if you don’t, what will you do?”

Turn by Saras_Girl (306k)

One good turn always deserves another. Apparently.

Running on Air by eleventy7 (74k)

Draco Malfoy has been missing for three years. Harry is assigned the cold case and finds himself slowly falling in love with the memories he collects.

Such Great Heights by aideomai (93k)

Draco Malfoy, wide-eyed and pale and in a decidedly ragged shirt, was crouched next to the pile of whatever the dragon had been eating. Harry threw himself to a halt and yelled, “Merlin, how many times do I have to save your life?”

Dwelling by aideomai (83k)

Curses, James and Lily Potter ride again, several Ministry balls, a teenage Summer of Love, a grim young adult dystopian winter, a few different Draco Malfoys, secrets and the problems re: not having any, alternate lives, impossible lives, real lives, allusions to Dirty Dancing, and just because it's not called the Mirror of Erised doesn't mean you shouldn't know better.

In Pieces by dysonrules (85k)

Harry returns to Hogwarts as the new DADA instructor, only to find his teaching efforts thwarted by a very familiar ghost.

An Issue of Consequence by Faith Wood (20k)

Draco has woken up in an alternate universe. Or he has woken up utterly insane. Nothing else can possibly explain why Harry Potter suddenly seems to think he's Draco's boyfriend.

Save My Wonders by sdk (21k)

Immediately chocolate assaulted Draco's senses. Warm melted chocolate mixed with his mother's roses and... something else. Something new. Freshly scrubbed skin and maybe a faint sheen of sweat. It was so familiar... And it only intensified when Potter came up behind him.

The Devil's White Knight by AngrySpaceRavenclaw/orphaned (64k)

When Harry wakes up in an alternate timeline--a timeline where Voldemort was defeated long before the first war--he discovers everything is different. His parents, his godfather, his friends--and him. Harry must deal with the consequences of who he would have been if he had been raised by his parents, and figure out where he stands with his casual hook up, Draco Malfoy.

What I thought by bafflinghaze (7k)

Draco thought they were in a relationship. Harry thought it was just sex.

The Little Marauders Nursery and Day Care by @digthewriter (9k)

Harry Potter is the proud owner of The Little Marauders Nursery and Day Care and his favourite student is Scorpius Malfoy. Scorpius’s dad might be okay, too.

A Broken but Happy Sound by thusspakekate (7k)

Sometimes we do terrible things for no reason. Other times, we have terrible reasons.

Packing the Flat by marguerite_26 (6k)

Months after their explosive break-up, Draco insists Harry return to their flat to remove his belongings.

#drarry #drarry fic recs #drarry reclist #my recs #drarry fic #drarry fic rec #fic recs #drarry recs

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moon-witchs-world · 1 year

Text

Dress - Harry J. Potter

I don’t want you like a best friend. Only bought this dress so you could take it off.

Harry J. Potter x Fem!reader

~1,1K words Summary: After defeating Lord Voldemort Harry Potter wants nothing more than to be happy. To have an easy, simple life. Be boring for a while. Things have changed. The golden trio becomes a loved-up duo and leaves Harry spending more time by himself than he likes. Things with Ginny Weasley just didn’t work out, both of them have changed and they have gone their separate ways. He spends more and more time with you, his best friend and decides to ask you to be his plus one at Ron and Hermione’s wedding.

Author’s note: this is pure, sickly sweet fluff inspired by the TS song Dress. Hope you enjoy, please leave me a comment or reblog, it makes my day!

~~**~~

It would make me so happy to go to R&H’s wedding together. Will you go with me?,’ Harry had written to you a few weeks earlier. You had written your reply with shaking hands. I would love to, Harry.

And so there you were on a sunny Spring day wearing a flowy, fairytale like dress that complemented all your curves, waiting for Harry Potter.

Ron and Hermione were getting married today and you were beyond excited. You loved weddings. Adored them. There was something so magical and promising about two people dressed up to the nines, in front of all their loved ones, making vows that would last a lifetime. It was even more special when the people getting married were two of your best friends.

You met Harry, Ron and Hermione when you were just eleven on your first day at Hogwarts. Being muggle born you didn’t know anyone who went to Hogwarts and you were so anxious. The trio was kind to you and accepted you into their little friend group. After the Wizarding War you remained closest to Harry. Ron and Hermione had finally confessed their love to each other and were making up for lost time by never leaving each other’s company or their home for that matter.

During those post-war years you and Harry grew closer than ever and spent a lot of time together. He was the best friend anyone could ask for, but lately your feelings for him changed. You had fallen for the Chosen one. The man with the lightning shaped scar on his forehead and the fierce green eyes. The kind wizard who was seemingly unaware of the magnetic power he had on you.

And then he asked you to go to the wedding together. Maybe he meant it just as friends, but you felt hopeful. Maybe today you were finally going to be brave enough to confess your feelings.

You arrived before Harry did and had some time to take in the beautiful scenery. The wedding would take place outside, in the idyllic backyard of Bill and Fleur’s Shell Cottage. There were wildflowers everywhere and champagne flutes floated through the air. You grabbed one and took a sip. Maybe a bit of liquid courage was exactly what you needed.

A faint pop behind you startled you and when you turned around you felt a mixture of comfort and anxiety when you saw Harry Potter had appeared behind you.

‘Forgive me for being late. You look absolutely gorgeous,’ he said after pressing a kiss on your cheek. You hoped he didn’t notice you blushing just a little. When you replied, he was still staring at you.

‘No problem, I only just arrived. You look very handsome as well, Harry,’ you answered. His dark green dress robes made his eyes pop even more and his hair wasn't as messy as usual. You liked his messy, raven coloured hair that never seemed to want to behave in a certain way and you had to resist the urge to run your hands through his hair to mess it up a bit more.

‘Please, everyone, take your seats. The ceremony is about to begin!’ Mrs. Weasley said rather agitated and you and Harry both went and took a seat at the front.

The ceremony was intimate and beautiful. You were sure Ron had had a bit too much to drink before, he slurred his words a bit during his vows and his posture was a bit unsteady. Hermione looked radiant, even more beautiful than on a normal day.

Maybe it was wishful thinking, but you thought you felt Harry’s eyes wander to you at least a couple of times during the ceremony. You were very aware of your upper legs touching ever so slightly and when you wiped away a few happy tears, he squeezed your hand softly.

When Ron and Hermione were officially husband and wife and the newlyweds were sharing a passionate kiss, everyone got up and cheered.

‘Let’s celebrate!’ Ron yelled enthusiastically. The chairs were magicked away which made space for a dancefloor. Harry took your hands and the both of you started to dance. You let him lead you over the dancefloor, never breaking eye contact for longer than a few seconds. After a while you two decided it was time to take a break and have a drink. Harry took two glasses of champagne from one of the floating trays and gave you one. You stood there in silence for a moment, looking at Ron and Hermione, locked into a tight embrace in the center of the dancefloor.

‘You’re my best friend. I’m glad we’re here together,’ Harry suddenly said with a beaming smile. You had always been proud to call someone as kind and authentic as Harry Potter your best friend, but now the words hurt you. They felt empty. Not anything close to what you actually felt for him.

‘I don’t want to be your best friend,’ you heard yourself say. His eyes widened in confusion and a few wrinkles appeared on his forehead as he frowned.

‘Well, I mean, I like being your best friend. But I want to be more,’ you said so quietly it was no more than a whisper. Harry grabbed your hand and leaned in a bit.

‘Well, to be honest, I didn’t ask you to come with me as a friend,’ he said with a slight flush on his cheeks. You looked at him in disbelief. Could it be? Could your feelings for Harry be mutual?

‘Is it weird to ask you to be my girlfriend at our best friends’ wedding?’ You giggled.

‘I don’t know, maybe you should try it.’

Harry took a deep breath, straightened his back and took both your hands in his, in a way very similar to the way Ron and Hermione had stood before them not too long ago.

‘My lovely best friend. Would you mind if I started to call you my girlfriend from now on?’

‘That would make me very happy,’ you answered. Harry looked relieved and then came a bit closer. His face was just inches away from you.

‘I guess that since you’re my girlfriend now, I finally get to kiss you.’

‘I guess you’re right,’ you said with a smile on your face. He leaned in and pressed his lips on yours. Even though you had fantasized about this moment for so long, it was way better in reality. His lips were softer than you could have imagined and the touch of them woke a million butterflies that had been sleeping in your stomach.

‘Okay, now let’s go and find a place where I can take off that dress. It’s absolutely gorgeous, but I think I like what’s underneath it even more,’ he said with a mischievous smile.

#harry potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #harry potter fan fiction #harry potter fluff #harry potter short story #fanfiction #hogwarts #harry james potter #harry potter x reader fluff #dress taylor swift

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greenerteacups · 5 months

Note

I absolutely adore your characterizations in Lionheart. Who has been the ‘easiest’ or most natural character to write, and conversely which character have you struggled the most with?

ooh, a fun one. so the answer's actually changed! right now, the most natural character to write is easily Draco (thank GOD, right?) i've developed the kind of intimacy with his brain in that special way that only spending 500,000 words and five years with someone can. it's at the point where I can basically just go, "what would Draco do here?" and have an immediate gut-check answer, which is great, and really speeds up the writing process. but in the beginning, he was much harder! I knew I had to sell people on this version of him that was already very far removed from canon, but couldn't be too OOC, or he'd just feel like some random pureblood Gryffindor OC. specifically, he needed to be bratty, cowardly and cruel, and yet also the kind of person the Golden Trio would conceivably befriend. all this had to happen while also being an eleven-year-old boy.

Hermione, in contrast, came much easier when she was younger. Baby Granger is nothing more or less than the world's nerdiest, bossiest, try-harding-est twelve-year-old, which i found fairly easy to write because i happen to have held that title myself. in later books, inversely, she's been much harder, because i have to convey more with less. Hermione hates talking about her emotions, for one, and even though draco knows her well, there's a lot about her he doesn't and can't understand, so i as the author am limited in my toolset for expressing what she's thinking. like, one of my biggest frustrations in book 4 was that hermione is almost assuredly having insanely complicated feelings At All Times about the Ministry of Magic and her muggle-born identity, but because draco's main coping mechanism for the situation is Don't Think About It. while we get some of it — get as much as I can cram in, frankly, without just dumping hermione in a therapist's chair and forcing her to digress — we don't get nearly as much as I would like. but hey, you know, at some point you have to throw in the towel and admit your story can't do everything. gotta leave something for the other writers, greedy.

the hardest character to write is and ever was Narcissa Malfoy, because she walks this fine line of sophistication and brutality, domesticity and professionalism, meticulous control and helpless madness. she's a woman of contradictions, and trying to weave that all together without losing sight of her, or making her flat, is a pretty draining exercise. i find myself procrastinating scenes with Narcissa, even though i love writing her, just because i know she's going to make me work for it.

#greenteacup asks #lionheart #lionheart spoilers

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iris-of-bliss · 3 months

Text

𝔽𝕒𝕧𝕠𝕣𝕤 [𝟙𝟠+]

Summary: You had a long day at work, and you finally see your boyfriend again. Later in the night, you two exchange some pleasure in bed.

Pairing(s): Steve Fox/F!Reader

Warning(s): Smut, Teasing, Fellatio, Cunnilingus

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: Dominant with a bit of sub Steve Fox is what I love most 💙

“C’mon, damn it!” Hwoarang curses at himself.

It was guys night with Jin, Hwoarang, and Steve Fox. They were settled down at a private hangout, that being the basement of you and Steve’s house. Both rivals Jin and Hwoarang were in the middle of playing intense foosball while Steve kicked back and watched the show. So far this has been a draw, and there can only be one winner. These two had made a deal earlier for the outcome: If Hwoarang loses, he has no other choice but to get Jin’s bike repaired. Why the hell is that? Well, let’s just say he got scammed by some lousy repairman. Jin won against his opponent at a fighting tournament, so he decided to give him a second chance. Meanwhile, Fox didn’t need to worry about this situation. He would feel entertained by the ongoing energy during the hangout. Even Hwoarang’s frustrations caught a laugh out of him.

“All this competition over a bike, eh?” he chuckled out.

The Taekwondo master growled, “Shut it! I’m focused.”

The constant shifting and spinning of foosball rods hitting the miniature ball kept going. It was almost time for Steve’s friends to leave as you planned to arrive back at eleven sharp. You were busy working a few extra hours at your job. He was worried about you wounding up tired when seeing you again. Taking you to bed was currently on his mind right now, among other things.

The redhead swears, “Shit!”

The foosball game was done. The metal rods’ spinning came to an end. Jin was declared the winner whilst Hwoarang had to do the favor.

“This is only a game, Hwoarang. Taking my bike for a repair won’t be much of a hassle,” Jin reassured as he snuck in a smirk.

The martial artist groaned, “Whatever you say, big shot.”

Steve stood up from his seat and approaches his rival. He gives a nudge to the shoulder as he chuckled, “C’mon, don’t be such a sore loser. You’ll get him back next time.”

“Oh trust me, I’ll make sure to show him-“

Their conversation was interrupted by a crack of the door. Footsteps made their way down the stairs. The trio looked back, seeing a familiar figure before them. You made your return from tonight’s job. By the looks of it, you found that they were finished with a foosball game. You were curious to ask, “Did I disturb something, or were you guys just finished with your game?”

The boxer strikes a bright smile and walks towards you, giving a tight hug, “Why of course we’re done, luv!”

He lifts you up and peppers a few kisses to your cheek. Hwoarang shakes his head while Jin hummed, “Seems like we should head out, yeah? I think Xiaoyu is waiting for me.”

“You two got girls? Heh, I’m going home to a punching bag.”

Steve looks back at the martial artist, “Going for an overnight practice? Try not to get sloppy back there, will ya?”

“Don’t try underestimating me when I pick a fight with you,” Hwoarang waved his hand back. You watch the two guests walk out the basement to the front door. It was just you and Steve in the room. Your boyfriend pulls you close by the waist, looking into your eyes softly.

“Was work alright? Ya feel any tired?” Steve was making sure if you needed any rest.

You caress his face, “A little bit, but I’d like to use some spare time before going to sleep.”

—

Changing in your nightwear after a long day felt a lot better. You’re lying down with a shirtless Steve in his sweats while you were wearing a cute and lacy slip dress night gown. You shared small chatter about the day for around ten minutes. It was an average day for each of you, but maybe a little spicing up wouldn’t be too bad.

Fox compliments you, “You know, you look like an angel in that night gown.”

Your heart flutters with joy by his sweetness. You place a hand over his cheek as your thumb brushes his skin. Leaning in for a kiss, Steve grabs you by the waist for you to lay on top of him. You yelp and giggle as you continue to kiss. Your legs were set on Steve’s sides while his hands rub along your back. One of them ended up squeezing your rear gently, the hem of your gown being lifted away from it. He wanted you to feel his entire hand knead the skin. You whimpered and your back arches due to the sly tease. That was when you suddenly grind against him until noticing a hard spot in his sweats. Your boyfriend released a slight gasp, eyes moving back and forth in embarrassment. Your movements went into a halt.

“That felt unexpected, wasn’t it?” he held a nervous laugh. Sure, you didn’t expect a poking erection, but it was barely a bother. You were already getting horny regardless. Lessening his worries, you exchange a kiss and pet his blonde strands.

“I can take care of it for you, sweetie. Would you like that?”

Steve slowly nods with his eyes wide. You kiss him once more before going down on him. You pull down his pants, removing them completely to toss elsewhere on the floor. The sight of you made him blush lightly. The position of your ass perking up while you bend down to free his cock. He’s prepared for what’s to come through the night.

You start landing kisses around the shaft to the tip of his erection. Its size was larger than you expected. You slip the tip of your tongue out and teasingly lick under it. Steve’s lower abdomen made a light twitch by your act. He brings one of his hands to stroke your hair whilst gripping the sheets. You glance up at him before continuing the show. He never received a blowjob before, so it was up to you to make it exhilarating. When your lips parted over the head, Steve pushes you down a bit, not too much to where you gag though. He isn’t a rough person himself during sex when he is mostly soft. Still, there is no such thing as not being rough on the table. Steve can go either way if he wants to.

“You’re doin’…so good to me,” the boxer praises, “That feel good for ya, dove?”

You wouldn’t fail shooting your best shot sucking him off thanks to his choice of nicknames to call you. It was becoming his enjoyment praising when you were doing such a good job pleasuring him. You make slow bobbing motions with your tongue tasting around his shaft. Your breath starting to feel hot, Steve was breathing heavily as he recognized a glint of saliva crawling out of your mouth. He massages your scalp with his eyes shut and lip bit down. His face even felt hot. You hummed with pleasure, causing Steve to whimper. This felt so fucking good to him. It was nothing but pure bliss. His hand moves down to your cheek to caress while you quickened the pace. He pushes your hair back to catch a better view. You hum on him again and pump on the base of his cock with your hand. A feeling of dampness formed in your panties due to your cunt throbbing so miserably. Your boyfriend tried his best to hold back his moans, yet would end up slipping them out.

Steve’s breathing hitched, “Ah, (Y/N)! Sweetheart, I’m gettin’ close…”

He began to feel his dick throb inside your mouth, earning an aroused mewl. His brows furrow as he clenches his teeth at the view. You tug at Steve’s boxers when sending a few last pumps around his sex. After quickly pulsating, he shot a warm load into your mouth. You suck and lick off every drop that remained. Steve’s breathing slowed down post-release. He let out a sigh and lays his head back on the pillows. You pull out with a pop and lick your lips before placing his cock in his boxers. Crawling above him, you sent kisses on his jaw and cheek. Your satisfied partner made a slight smirk and glances at you. He holds you close by your torso, rubbing the small of your back. You wrap your arms around the base of his neck.

“You tasted so good, baby. Did that please you enough?” you manage to tease. Fox nods and pecks your temple. Arms encircle your body tight, possibly meaning that Steve himself had a plan for you.

He answers you, “Yeah, but perhaps I could return the favor, right?”

You were unable to reply fast enough because of him tossing and turning you onto your back, his body towering over yours. Blush marks appear on your face whilst your hands hover along Steve’s sculpted muscles. It didn’t fail to hypnotize you much to the lack of surprise. He knew your eyes were distracted, so he kisses you again. Your eyes scurry up to his face.

“My face is up here, luv,” he inches close to your ear to kiss, “Don’t take your eyes off it.”

Since when the hell did Steve get good at flirting? You became completely speechless. He slid himself down while kissing your body in the process. His face now in between your thighs, spreading your legs apart. Steve pushes your gown upward to be welcome by a laced pair of panties already soaked. He smirks from the small mess you allowed your horny self to make.

“Already wet down there, eh?”

Your heart skips a beat as the boxer kisses the spot. You hum in a moan, causing him to look up with puppy eyes. He takes the edge of the cloth with his teeth until pulling it all off with his fingers. Throwing the panties on the floor, he lays back on his stomach in front of your cunt.

“Don’t try and suffocate me while I’m at it, will ya?” Steve asks the favor. You nod as you watched him from below. He makes sure to grip both legs tight for good measure. This was going to be a long ride for you. Kisses were placed over your womanhood again, leading to your breathing getting heavy. You were already throbbing again. He releases his tongue to lick your slit, yet the motions felt agonizingly slow. And oh it was in such a good way, too. You could even feel the tip of it tease you so badly. Your boyfriend probably learned from your earlier stunt when sucking him off. It wasn’t until the tongue’s tip found your clit before flicking a few, then going back down again. You arch your back and whimper in desperation. Your hands start gripping the sheets.

“This is all your fault for teaching me how to arouse you, sweetheart,” he recalls a memory.

Your voice stumbled, “S-Steve, I need you- ah!”

This man is such a quick learner. You remember how he had a lack of experience for these sexual scenarios. It amazed you that he can pick up some of your weaknesses and discover more. God you didn’t want him to stop. You made the urge to stay silent the whole way as Steve can handle you all to himself.

Steve’s tongue keeps making the same motions from your opening to the bit of flesh, causing you to squirm. His strong arms pinned you down by the legs to prevent any escaping. He wanted this to be absolutely perfect for you. His tongue then laps over your slit, the hot breaths touching your sensitive skin. During his work, he looks up at your reaction, your body still squirming with eagerness. A wave of hollered moans should be good for him, but not enough for the night. He makes a bold move to go deeper and slide his tongue inside of your aching cunt. Your eyes shot wide open as you moan in pleasure. You shove his head down with your free hand, and your legs weren’t able to withstand his strength to writhe out. Steve taps your leg before extending a hand for you to hold. You move yours away from his head to grab his hand. His thumb rubs over your knuckles for reassurance. Your leg leans against the boxer’s face while lying over his shoulder.

As it went on, his tongue kept thrusting in and out as well as curl in certain places. He found the right spot after hearing you moan loud again. Steve’s mouth covered your entire area, his tongue gushing with your fluid. It felt so warm and slick when sliding through your walls. He takes ahold of your free leg and massages both hips to add for the satisfaction. The inside of your pussy felt hot and continued throbbing at once. Seems like you were about to finish, too.

You broke your silence, “Mm, babe! D-don’t stop! So…good!”

Your boyfriend hummed at your approval, and grips your legs in place. The vibration against your pussy made your body snap. All self control vanished as a climax arose. A forceful release of cum is shot into Steve’s mouth. Your legs kick the air with your body arching back. It felt so god damn good, and Steve knew it. The wet release seeps away out of his mouth whilst he catches as much as he could. Your cunt flutters and squirts with endless joy. Your body shudders while you pant every breath. As you settled down, Steve licks around the remaining spots that were covered in your cum. He slurps it all up before he towers over you, examining your exhausted face. You loved to see his massive figure above yours since it turned you on so easy.

Your lover praises, “You taste amazing. Ya gettin’ tired yet?”

Although your voice sounded faint, you cup his cheek and whisper, “M-more…”

Fox giggled and sends a kiss to your temple, “Anything for you, dove.”

He kisses your flushed cheek and pulls his dick back out, pumping it for an erection. Your hands lazily roam around his muscles, becoming touchy. You trace an index finger over his arm scar, the one obtained from the labs of the Mishima Zaibatsu. Steve then aligns his cock towards your already soaked womanhood. You hold him by the shoulders with breathing turning heavy again. Pressing the tip, Steve slides in your entry with a groan. You were just as tight, no different from last time. The small veins along his cock, they caught a moan out of you. Steve licks his lips and begins to penetrate. Legs are wrapped over his waist in an attempt to get him close.

One of his hands knead your waist softly, trying his best to turn you on once more. Though this wasn’t necessary, he would succeed doing so. You cooed in a moan as you were panting at one another. The area felt so hot to the point that layers of sweat formed. Your boyfriend’s teeth clench from your tightness. He throbs around you while your pussy flutters, the wet sounds of skin ramming each other. Steve leans in to pepper kisses on your face, then moves close towards your ear. He’ll go on to whisper such pleasing words as part of his love language. How much he loved you, the ways you two were satisfying in return, all of that you wished to be eternal.

“You mean so much to me, (Y/N). I love you, ya know that?” he voiced between his breaths.

“Mm, Steve! I-I love you too!”

“I love you…”

Steve embraces you and bites into your neck, sucking on the skin. His thrusts got as quick as they could, eventually leading you to mewl nonstop. You and Steve were about to cum again. Nails claw into his back due to how large his size felt. The boxer nips off of your skin, leaving a visible hickey. You throw your head back and pant for air. A sudden feeling of your abdomen was about to snap.

A few more hits.

Then again.

Finally once more, and heavy amounts of ejaculate erupt from your bodies. A wail of moans sounded in the bedroom. Your own fluids spray against his abdomen while his hot load is aimed through your sex. Steve pounds you a few extra times for the rest to spill out. Your body trembles on the bed, turning into motionless putty underneath him. He huffs out a few breaths and carefully pulls out. He sprawls on his back to catch his breath. Sweat falls down his forehead as he runs his fingers through his hair. Steve looks at your tired state before scooting over and laying on his side. He luckily still has enough stamina as long as he watched his physique. Compared to him, you were fragile, and he treated you delicately. He must have thought that he went a little too rough, yet you never complained once.

You look up at him, eyes lidded and face red hot. Steve gave a soft smile and caresses your cheek with his knuckles. He inches his lips to yours until sending a light kiss.

“After a minute or so, I’ll help you into the shower,” he tells you as he began to pet your hair, “You can lean on me if you’d like. I probably went kinda rough on you, haven’t I?”

“No, you were perfect. I want to do this again someday…”

Steve chuckled, “Alright then.”

#tekken #tekken steve fox #steve fox #steve fox x reader #fanfic #blissfic #n/sfw

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rachelsshowerthoughts · 1 month

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Was musing on the Aware AU and how the trio internalize and process the abuse and otherwise contextualize or understand and communicate it or otherwise maybe fail to do so.

Because realizing a parent is unfair or doesn't care or is cruel is one thing. It can often be another to straight up be aware of and say you are an abuse victim.

Be it because they are young and thus even with the spread of therapy speak, being able to use it effectively on themselves is hard.

Or because abuse victims don't often look like they do, IE, aren't usually mega rich heirs to powerful names. Even if being a rich child can be rather akin to being an exotic talking pet given none of that money is theirs.

Sad money also makes getting empathy hard and feeling there is a way out even harder. They may not want the former or at least not desire it consciously. But its also a case of, "If we were even believed what could anyone do?"

But then there's also the more personal takes on things, such as how:

Adrien may not blame himself for his fathers inability to love him (Or at least love him in a not terrible way) but he sure as hell blames himself for "Fooling himself" for so long. He's known Gabriel his whole life, he is his son, if anyone should have figured out what he was like it was Adrien. But he didn't so he can't blame anyone else for not seeing it.

Then there's stuff like media where cold and controlling parents get redemption arcs by being soft once or the like. Adrien's just throwing popcorn at the screen, "He's lying to you, its a trick, he'll never change!"

Kagami genuinely loves fencing, she loves how skilled she is, she loves that she is a world renowned fencer. This makes it hard to deal with when abuse is woven into training, such as with overly violent spars, or with training sessions that see her hit the ground and then be forced up again and again.

She's used to her body hurting after training, the issue isn't the punishment, its how arbitrary and unfairly her mother applies them Compounded with the social isolation, control and emotional repression which she has a hard time naming. Meanwhile you have Marinette just wanting to scream because Tomoe is intentionally harming her daughter as punishment.

She'd likely need an outsider to highlight the punishment spars themselves are a bad idea that hinder rather than help her. That the pain itself was wrong, not just when or why it was applied. Kagami is proud of who she is and what she can do. So to some degree she sort of.. Needs the trauma. Because if it was unnecessary, if it isn't how she got so good, then it was just pain.

Chloe has the. other victims do not look like me jacked up to eleven. Most victims are not rich, most people who are aggressive (In her research) are physical and were harmed physically. Most don't have mayor fathers who bailed them out of trouble, though be it to make her reliant on them and feed his own self esteem, hence encouraging her acting out as it fed him.

But its also because she chose to imitate Audrey. She chose this path in order to win her parents love and it didn't even work. She chose this and now she is not choosing it but something else. She had agency in this god dammit and don't you dare tell her otherwise! She is not a victim! She is not weak!

Feeding into that is stuff like Andre actively and outright teaching her, "Extortion, intimidation, bribery, these are how you win a campaign." Because even as she restructures herself, part of her still defaults to these, part of her still sees them as pragmatic and useful. Part of her thinks they will be needed for her and the people they care about. So again, was it abuse or just Andre being bad at parenting?

Plus on the physical side of things, there is some stuff that can be bled into headcanon, among other things... But one thing I would note is that canon Chloe grabbing Zoe and inspecting her like livestock before giving her approval. How she gets so aggressively close and into people's space when she otherwise seems to try and be distant. This screams learned behavior and we can't even blame it all on Audrey cos she was more of a: Fly in tear my daughter apart and leave parent. With likely a mix of social media, calls and streams, or rejection from and via those to compound things. So she's getting this heavily from Andre. But its not overt, its not hitting, it can't be abuse then, because Chloe is too different to the victims she finds, too different to be seen as a victim.

All true! I don’t think any of the kids would apply the words "abuse victim" to themselves. Like, their parent suck. They suck SO BAD. Their parents are awful people who aren’t going to change. They know this. They accept this. But I'm not a VICTIM. I'm not ABUSED. I'm not what that looks like. It doesn’t apply to me(derogatory).

Funnily enough, they might apply it to EACH OTHER. Chloé absolutely thinks Gabriel is emotionally neglecting Adrien. Adrien thinks André and Audrey emotionally abuse Chloé. They both think Tomoe abuses Kagami. But it doesn’t apply to themselves, and they don’t bring it up or try to convince each other.

#miraculous ladybug #Aware au

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ymaohoh · 3 months

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Chrissy's relationship with the Party headcanons?

EEEEEEEEE yes please. Thanks 'Nonny!

(This is assuming the Chrissy Lives AU)

Nancy - so Chrissy would no doubt be pretty overwhelmed with everything going on so I see Nancy being the one to initially put her at ease and welcome her into the group more. They would already know of each other via school and probably share similar preppy interests (they play Cyndi Lauper LOUD and bop their heads but who gives a shit - they're happy). I see Chrissy being unbelievably impressed by Nancy and her ballsy attitude (and gun collection). Nancy's just happy for another girl around the place. They become firm allies.

View on Hellcheer: Nancy knew from the beginning okay? She's the one who speaks to Chrissy about it 1-1 and is happy for them. She probably takes an active role in getting them together.

Jonathan - i like the idea of Chrissy and Jonathan getting along quietly in the background. There's a lot of loud personalities so she'd feel calmed in Jonathan's quiet presence. He doesn't really know how to interact with her at first (brain glitch) but she asks about photography and he patiently shows her how to load the camera and develop in the dark room (I kind of love the idea of Chrissy getting into photography for some reason). He captures a candid photo of her, Robin, and Nancy smiling together and presents it as a 'welcome to the crazy' gift.

View on Hellcheer: Jonathan is completely oblivious until he sees them sucking face. He's happy for them - it's nice to see another mix-matched couple making a go at it.

Steve - so on paper Steve and Chrissy would make a hella' cute couple and Chrissy definitely had a crush on Steve during her freshman year (who didn't?). Steve knows of Chrissy Cunningham and kind of treats her as a bit of a damsel in distress at first but they soon become easy friends and she's happily surprised to discover his caring babysitter side. He's instantly flirty with Chrissy (which annoys certain party members) but they know it's just banter (he's probably the most considerate/protective of Chrissy out of all the girls). They're both from similar backgrounds so they'd understand one another's hang ups easy peasy.

View on Hellcheer: How the fuck did Munson pull that off? (he's happy for them though)

Robin - Robin is so so so happy for another girl around the place. Chrissy isn't sure how to take Robin at first (she's so different from the other girls at school) but they click over similar interests in movies and Chrissy starts seeing Robin as this seriously cool girl (who maybe belongs in a different universe in the future?). They also enjoy pranking Steve. Robin thinks Chrissy is HOT but nothing comes of this as she likes being friends better (and Chrissy clearly has eyes for someone else). I like the idea of Chrissy realising Robin's romantic affections go towards the female variety but she waits for Robin to confide in her. She, Nancy, and Robin make a little trio.

View on Hellcheer: How the fuck did Munson pull that off? (repeat)

Max - i wrote about this in depth here. I think initially Max would give Chrissy some space as she's got a lot on her plate already but they'd bond over their Vecna visions and Max appreciates how much Chrissy wants to help her (she's a good listener too). Chrissy in turn admires Max's no-bullshit attitude and thinks she'd make an excellent lawyer (she'd make grown men tremble in fear). Chrissy is unapologetically very girly but Max finds herself joining in sometimes and learns you can be girly and badass at the same time. Fuck social norms and cliches and all that backwards crap. It's nice to have a break from the guys sometimes too.

(this kind of goes for Eleven as well. Chrissy meets her with Max and understands quickly they are besties - but she likes Eleven and Eleven likes Chrissy's kindness and sincerity. Plus Chrissy paints her nails bright purple and makes them sparkle)

View on Hellcheer: saw it coming a mile off. Nancy may think she noticed it first but Max saw Eddie literally carrying Chrissy into his trailer with his tongue down her throat. She still a bit scarred.

Mike, Dustin, Lucas, Will, Erica: they aren't really sure about Chrissy at first - she's a cheerleader, she's seriously pretty, she was dating the asshole Jason - she's a bit suss overall and they've been bullied by those kind of people, you know? However, Chrissy asks Dustin about D&D and you know what? Game over. Dustin becomes Chrissy's #1 fan and worships the ground she walks on (I've gone into more detail here). Like Steve, Chrissy takes a caring role in the party towards the younger kids and encourages them to take breaks, eat ("Mike, vegetables are important if you want to go full Rambo - you can't just eat chips"), and drink plenty of water. The others soon come 'round and value Chrissy as an excellent party member and they take a bit of a protective role over her too. She's becomes their big (adorable) sister.

(she knew Lucas before, of course, because he plays basketball with Jason and this is enough to make her a bit anxious - but Lucas is nice and down to earth and he smiles and says 'Hey Chrissy' and that anxiety sooooon vanishes)

View on Hellcheer: boy do they wind Eddie up when they notice this. Dustin twigs when Eddie lets Chrissy play whatever music she wants in the van and she gets all blushy whenever Eddie looks her way. They never tease Chrissy though <3

GROUP HUG.

#stranger things #stranger things season 5 #stranger things headcanons #chrissy cunningham x eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #chrissy cunningham headcanons #chrissy x eddie #eddie x chrissy #hellcheer headcanons #hellcheer prompts #hellcheer #edssy #eddissy #eddissy headcannons #edssy headcanons

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