#Yes it’s odd that I’d be asking this way

[buckybarnesisdaddy]

Meet Cute

Summary: You stumble upon a pottery TikTok account and the creator is super hot. When you win his contest for a custom piece, well sparks start to fly.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Warning: Sexual innuendos, Smut (Oral, PiV), talks of fighting as kids, talks of alcohol use and being drunk. No protection sex (but it’s okay, they talk about it.) Minors DNI

Idea came from this post

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Another Friday night with nothing better to do than sit on your phone scrolling Instagram while a forgotten movie plays in the background. You really should be writing, you have a deadline coming up soon but you just can’t bring yourself to write about romance and love. You can hear Natasha saying goodbye to her date on the doorstep, and she has been for the last 20 minutes. Finally Natasha comes stumbling in, face flushed and giggling away, which is odd because Natasha never giggles. “So I take it the date went well?” You ask from your perch on the couch, covered in blankets and a bowl of popcorn cooled on the seat next to you.

“If you must know, yes!!” She gushes and runs over to sit beside you. “He is so sweet and such a gentleman-”

“What he as doing to you out there didn’t sound too ‘gentleman like.’ In fact it sounds down right scandalous.” You tease and Natasha rolls her eyes and gives you a playful shove.

“He was an absolute gentleman,” she doubles down before she blushes and admits, “well that was till I said all the right words and had him ready to eat me alive.” Natasha laughs as you pretend to retch. “Oh hush! If you ever got off this couch you’d have a line of men waiting to take you out and begging for you to talk dirty to them.” Natasha winks, you can feel the heat rise in your cheeks and you sink further down into the couch.

“I have Bridgerton, and my own fictional men that I write, I don’t need a man.” You shoot back at her slightly insulting but meant in good fun jab at your non-existent dating life. “Anyway, where did you meet this guy again?” Natasha picks up a handful of popcorn before she realizes it’s cold. She wrinkles her nose but commits anyway to eating it.

“Tiktok!” Natasha answers over a mouthful. A loud laugh escapes for you and she gives you another play shove before taking the popcorn for herself. “We talked a lot online before we met up. He’s great, in fact i have made lots of friends from TikTok! You should give it a try!” Abruptly standing up and shaking your head, you walk to the kitchen to retrieve a drink.

“No way, I know myself and I’d end up sucked Down the rabbit hole and I’d never get anything done. And for the sake of my job, I can’t have that.” Natasha sighs a unmutes the tv.

“What a waste of a good ass and ‘I'll beg for it eyes’.” Natasha teases and you can’t help but laugh again as you enter the room with your water and a drink for Natasha.

“What kind of videos did you think A) I would be watching and B) potentially making?!” Sitting down next to her giving her a hard stare. Natasha stares straight ahead, purposely not meeting your gaze as she shrugs.

“Anything you wanted, Bunny.” She looks over and winks, using the old nickname you got back in college after too many drinks and a spin on a pogo stick.

“Wow you must really be worried about my good ass and ‘beg for it’s eyes’ going to waste if you’re baiting me with that name!” You lean back and prop your feet up on the coffee table. Natasha leans her head over and eats it on yours.

“All I’m saying is the first step in dating is getting yourself out there. Why not start with a stupid video app? Connect with others from the safety of a screen, and see where it goes.” She smiles and gives your hand a squeeze before she yawns and stands again. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need a shower,” she blushes, “My man got me pretty worked up.” She winks and dashes off. You shake your head and just laugh as you turn back to your movie. That night you toss and turn, unable to sleep. You can’t stop thinking about what Natasha said. Maybe it would be fun, it’s not the pressure of a dating app and you can give out as much information as you are willing to. What could go wrong? Knowing Natasha is still awake as you quickly send her a text.

‘Fine… make me a page but keep it generic.’ About as soon as you put your phone down it dings. You pick it up to find multiple messages from Natasha. ‘Yay! I already did! Here is the login! Have fun!! 😉’

**********************************************

Bucky is setting up in his garage studio when he hears the bike rev outside and then turn off. Steve walks in and lays his helmet down on one of his work tables.

“So? How did the date go?” Bucky asks as he sets down a bucket of water next to his wheel and sets a sponge out next to the bucket. Steve leans against the table and grabs a chunk of modeling clay. He starts to knead it in his hands, treating it like a stress ball as he smiles.

“Honestly? Amazing! I mean, really Buck. She’s great!” Bucky laughs to himself and nods. “You know you’re never gonna find a women unless you actually get out there and try to date.” Steve teases and Bucky just throws a rag at him.

“Yeah yeah, hand me that clay and let me get paid, okay?!” Bucky jokes and Steve tosses him the clay. He slaps it down on the wheel and Steve laughs.

“See, that right there would have women lining up and down the street for you!” Steve turning Bucky’s harmless actions of slapping his clay into sexual jokes and Bucky returning the favor is something Bucky hopes they never outgrown.

“Yeah, and the boys would be lining up to have you handle their wood, we’d be making bank if we started charging.” Steve laughs and shoves Bucky.

“Woodworking is a noble hobby.” Steve rebuts.

“Noble and as old at time!” Bucky had the last say. “Now, shut up and press live for me.” Bucky smiles and Steve pretends to be annoyed as he does what was asked.

**********************************************

You want to be upset that she did it before you gave her permission, but you know she means well. Your last relationship did not end well and you haven’t dated since, honestly you’ve been sacred to. Natasha just wants to see you happy. You download the app and use the login information Natasha sent you. Apparently she’s been following people for you and set up the whole account. She was nice enough to not include a picture of you, instead she added the generic pictures everyone can choose from when they start a profile. She put that your name is ‘Bunny’, you she’s your head and just laugh, reminding yourself to change that later. You see you username ‘talkdirtytome’. “Oh Nat,” you groan. Becoming a master at TikTok in a matter of minutes you find where to change your username, but seeing as Natasha had changed it 5 times in less than 2 hours, your account is locked to more changes for at least a week. Thankful that the username you ended up with wasn’t so bad considering one of the last names was ‘fckbunny'. “Oh my god, Nat. You are so dead!” You take a deep breath and sit up against your headboard. You remind yourself it’s not the end of the world and it’s just the internet, it’s only forever. Ready to give it a rest for the night you lay your phone down when you get a notification.

*Buchananclaymates is going live*

“Who the hell is that and why does it sound like porn?” Even as you ask yourself that very important question your thumb has already clicked on the notification. You are taken to the live screen on TikTok. On your screen sits the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life. His blue eyes pop against the blue henley he is wearing and his hair is short. Theres a boyish charm to him even though he is clearly in his early late 20’s maybe even early 30’s. He is sitting in some kind of garage and on the shelf behind him sits a dozen or so pots, pitchers, mugs, plates, all of them handcrafted. What gets you the most is his little New York accent slipping through his words. Not too much but enough that you can pick out the Brooklyn in him. His voice is so smooth, you could fall asleep listening to him talk about pottery. And his laugh, it makes you smile and you want to hear it again, so light and free, beautiful. As the shock of how beautiful this man is finally resolves, he says something that makes your heart drop straight to your stomach.

**********************************************

Bucky is having fun as all his followers sign on and begin requesting stuff. He starts to work the clay and begins his steps on making a pitcher. He is taking a moment to read some of the chat when a new user pops up. He memorized all his regulars, and yes there is about 100-200 of them but he has a good memory, against all odds and every concussion he had as a child. But his is one he has never seen before. He cleans off his hands and moves the camera closer.

“Hey, I see some new people here tonight,” He gets a better look at the username and he can’t help but blush and laugh as he teases his new viewer. “User ‘talkdirtytome’ I feel like you might be on my wrong account.” He winks. “I’m just messing with you! I do have another account and it is a little more… well-“ **********************************************

A voice from somewhere behind the camera shouts, “thirst trappy!!” The man Blushes but also nods, “yeah, I guess Rogers is right. It’s full of pottery thirst traps. But nothing more than that. This is a pg-13 page so, ‘talkdirtytome’ save it for the DM’s” he winks and laughs again. You look at the comments pouring in as the live continues, some are asking about buying some of his work. Others are asking if he makes custom pieces. Other ask what’s his favorite type of clay to use, you didn’t know there were different types. But overwhelmingly the comments were asking ‘take your shirt off!’ The man didn’t seem bothered by the comments at all, in fact he ate it up. Flirting and teasing the viewers with movements that showed little sections of his stomach or leaning forward and letting his shirt dip enough to see down it. He truly is a showman because you are entranced and before you know it you’ve spent an hour on this live watching him talk about pottery, and getting to know a little about him. You find yourself wanting to know everything, he seems so sweet and his eyes are kind. You don’t even realize you’re drooling over him until he starts rapping up the live. You don’t even know his name and yet you’re sad when he finally says goodnight and cuts the live off.

**********************************************

Bucky is pleasantly surprised with how well this live went. He got 15 orders while on live and he got about 1000 new followers. He knew he was pulling out all the stops tonight and flirting hardcore. Making sure he didn’t wear an undershirt so when he raised his arms the comment section went wild with the tease. Putting his hair in a half up half down bun that he knows drives his followers crazy. He was playing for keeps and thankfully it paid off. Especially with his most interesting new viewer. Why this new user caught his eye he will never know, ‘talkdirtytome’ was probably some 59 year old bald guy who found Bucky hot… but he couldn’t help hoping that maybe the user was really some really beautiful women in her late 20’s… a guy can dream, right?

**********************************************

You quickly click to his profile and do a little stalking. You can’t find this other page he talked about, probably because it’s some onlyfans or something like a cam sight. He was probably keeping it PG so the TikTok police didn’t flag his video. You’ve only been on it for about 2 hours but you’ve heard all about people getting banned or blocked because their videos were “too mature.” You give his page a once over again you finally clock his name. “James, huh. How very.. normal.” You blush and quickly jump back to your page, feeling exhilarated you change the profile picture to one of you. It doesn’t really show much, in fact all it shows is your hair and a hidden side profile… but it’s a step. You then find James page again and quickly, before you can second guess yourself, you follow him and set up notifications. You don’t want to miss seeing this beautiful man. Maybe Natasha was right, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. You lay your phone down and drift off to sleep, happier than ever.

**********************************************

Right before Bucky is about to go to bed he sees a new notification,

*New Follower- Bunny*

“Who the fuck is Bunny??” Bucky asks out loud as he clicks on the profile. He sees the username at the top ‘talkdirtytome’, “Ahh so Baldies name is Bunny, great.” Bucky groans. But then he sees the profile picture. “I wait, that’s a women. Wait- that’s?! FUCK YES!” He about yells from the comfort of his room, and only bring his voice down because he remembers Steve is on the other side of the wall. He messages you and then Bucky goes to sleep one happy man.

**********************************************

The sun streams through your window and you wake up to the soft buzz of your phone. You stretch and start your morning routine before actually checking the said phone, because you know the time suck that will happen if you just sit and scroll instead of getting up and ready. A text from Natasha saying she’s meeting ‘her man’ and will bring you back a coffee. You start to set your phone down when you notice a little red bubble on the TikTok app. Curiosity gets the better of you and you find your way back to your bed before you open it. The butterflies that burst in your stomach and travel throughout your body leave you breathless when you see that you have 5 messages from ‘Buchananclaymates’ aka Bucky.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!!” You start screaming as you take deep breaths and try to calm down. “Okay, it’s okay. He’s just a dude. He’s hot! But he’s just a guy, just read the messages.” You click them open and one by one your face heats up more and those butterflies become stronger lower and lower in your body.

*Messages*

Hey!

I see I have a new follower 😉

Glad I didn’t scare you off with all that teasing.

Hope to see you around again!

Maybe even here, 😏 ‘claymatesbuck’

“Oh my god,” you groan at the innuendo of the second username. “So it’s definitely porn!” You exclaim, not sure how you feel about this. “Of course the guy I find attractive is the one with a porn page.” You groan. “You really know how to pick em!” You pout for a moment and then you realize that you’re home alone. Natasha is out and will be for awhile. Your curiosity pushes you to click on the username and you are taken to another tiktok page. Every thumbnail for each video is of Bucky shirtless and working with clay. “He wasn’t kidding about the thirst traps.” You blush as you click on one video. It start to play and there is a semi sexually suggestive song playing as Bucky works the clay in his hands. Molding it and shaping it just how he wants. His biceps are on display and his abs, he ends the video with a little wink and lip bite.

“Oh my god!!” It comes out as more of a moan than it did an actual exclamation. “Oh Natasha, what have you done?!” You groan as you lay on your bed, ready to spend the morning watching every video on his page.

Before long you end up pressing that follow button and closing the app before you can do anything else to embarrass yourself.

**********************************************

Bucky sees your follow on his other page and if he sits down and plans out the next few videos to be exceptionally dirty, well maybe there was a correlation. Or maybe not.

**********************************************

The next two weeks you find yourself watching James new videos he posts and viewing his lives whenever you have a chance. He really does work great with his hands and half the time you forget that he is shirtless until he’s winking at the camera or he’s flirty and teasing everyone saying ‘You guys need some water.’ You wish you had the courage to message him and get to know him a little more but your nerves get in the way each time before you can press send. James will send you flirty messages and you will like them but you can never bring yourself to respond. You interact just enough to let him know to keep doing it.

It’s Friday night again and you see he is going live, like always you join and just watch. “So I have recently reached almost 10,000 followers on here, which is a huge milestone and I wanted to celebrate it!” He sits closer to the phone screen and you get a better glimpse of his eyes. Even. Bluer than you originally thought. He has little creases by his eyes that crinkle when he smiles too big and his nose scrunches up. He’s perfect. “Anyone that wants to be added into the drawing leave a comment on my last video saying so. This drawing is for a custom pottery piece of your choice. So if you win I will make you whatever you ask for,” he smirks, apparently knowing some of his followers a little too well. “Well within reason. No ‘life art’ sculptures.” He winks and you feel the blush start to rise. Would someone really be that bold to request that of him? “Anyway, the drawing will happen tomorrow at noon! So go comment now for the chance to win.” He signs off with a little wave and wink. Without even thinking, because if you think about it you will back out, you comment and ask to be added in. Within minutes he has liked your comment and sent another message to you.

*message*

I was gonna add you in regardless. 😉

The heat is almost burning in your face, he doesn’t even know you. How could he be this good at getting a rise out of you?! Your brain won’t shut off that night, thinking and even dreaming about this man behind your phone screen. “Damn it!” You grumble and end up having to watch some old Disney movies just to keep your mind off the filthy things you wish James would do to you instead of the clay he usually is holding. You finally drift off to sleep to the sounds of Cinderella.

****************************************************

“Hey!” Natasha pulls you out of your thoughts as you look up from your morning coffee.

“Hey, sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she looks you over. “Man you were really out of it. Didn’t even hear me invite you out.”

“Huh?” You hum in acknowledgment and Natasha rolls her eyes.

“I said I am going out later with my TikTok boyfriend and he has a friend that he can invite if you wanted to join.” She explains for the second time.

“Oh umm now? I-“ you try to think of an excuse, not wanting to miss the drawing on James page. “I actually have plans. With someone online.” Natasha shoots up straight and about squeals in excitement. “Okay okay, calm down.” You laugh. “It’s not a date but this guys been super flirty and I- I don’t know, maybe today I will finally make the move and message him back.” You shrug trying to play it off.

“Tell me everything, now!!” Natasha demands as she sips her coffee. “Don’t leave out a single detail.” You debate on lying, or just making it juicier than it is, but you decide against it.

“Okay, just don’t laugh.” You remind her before you tell her everything. She already has his page pulled up and is drooling over him too.

“He is hot!! Wow, and he said all those things to you?!” Meaning the messages he had sent.

“Yeah, so I don’t know. Maybe he’s trying to drum up business-” Natasha shakes her head.

“No, absolutely not. He is flirting hardcore.” She keeps looking through videos and one seems to catch her eye as her eyes widen and then a big smirk crosses her face before she exists out of the app and lays her phone down. Super quiet and worrying you even more than she does when shes asking you a million questions. “You said there is a drawing today?” You nod and you can see the wheels turning already. “At noon?” She asks and you nod again, she checks her watch and then opens her phone, obviously sending a message to someone.

“Natasha if you are messaging James, so help me-“ she cuts you off.

“And so what if I am?” She teases. “I’m just doing the hard work for you, the correct response is ‘thank you’.” She blows you a kiss as she leaves the room, leaving your stomach in knots and even more worried about this drawing.

**********************************************

Steve is in the garage with Bucky, getting ready for the drawing for his page and starting to film some more content for his own carpentry and woodworking page when he gets a text. He looks over at Bucky and then just laughs and quickly answers back.

“What’s so funny Punk?” Bucky asks and Steve smiles.

“Nothing, Jerk. You need help with the drawing? Where’s the bowl?” Steve asks as he slides his phone back in his pants. Bucky points to where he sat it and Steve grabs it to help.

**********************************************

“Okay everyone, it is noon and we are ready to get this show on the road!” James says happily. You refused to let Natasha sit and watch with you. She can watch on her own phone, but she won’t have a front row seat to your blushing or your disappointment when you inevitably lose. “I had over 500 of you enter, which is just incredible! Next time I should make each entry like $3 and send all the proceeds to wounded warriors.” You gently smile at the kind idea. It’s sweet, thinking of others instead of finding a way to make a bigger payday for himself. “Okay, let’s draw! The bowl, Rogers!” A hand comes into frame and the bowl is above James head. He lifts an arm up and reaches in pulling one slip of paper out. And as soon as the arm appeared it disappeared. James opens the paper and smiles before it turns to a laugh and then a smirk. “Well, user ‘talkdirtytome’, I am looking forward to making that custom piece for you.” You swear he stares right at you as he bites his lip and smiles again. “To everyone else, there will be more in the future! Oh and ‘talk dirty’?” You sit up and answer him like an idiot.

‘He can’t hear you, moron.’ You shake your head.

“I’ll be in touch. Bye everyone!” And the live ends. You lay your head down on your bed and just smile at the thought that James will be making a custom piece of pottery for you. When Natasha speaks she scares you half to death, not having heard her sneak in.

“WOW, you’ve got it bad!” She teases and you toss a pillow at her.

“Leave me alone!” You laugh and yell as you look down at the message that just came through.

**********************************************

When he read your username he had to remind himself that he can’t be partial, at least not on camera, but he couldn’t help the smile. He is gonna do this right and he refuses to mess it up, he’s got just the plan. He grabs his phone from his stand and quickly messages you.

**********************************************

*Message*

James- Idk how you feel about exchanging numbers, which I’d be fine with but I understand if you’re not. So zoom? Maybe later this afternoon?

You blush and quickly write back. Saying that you can’t wait and you will “see” him then. James likes your message and then sends a picture of binoculars. It’s so random and weird but you can’t help but laugh. Maybe Natasha’s right, you do have it bad.

You check your hair about 10 times, make sure your make up is okay, not too much but just enough to make it look like you’re not wearing any at all. Your sundress that you were already wearing perfectly accents your figure and makes your eyes pop. You check the lighting in your room and play with the blinds. With 10 minutes to spare before the arranged time for the zoom you sit down as your computer notifies you that you are in the “waiting room.” Whenever Jane slogs on the camera will turn on and that will be it. As you wait so many thoughts cross your mind. ‘He’s probably gonna be short and keep it super professional.’ ‘He may flirt for the camera but there’s no way he’d actually like me.’, ‘Calm down, he’s probably gonna be on and off as fast as he can.’ You start to doubt yourself and you suddenly feel self-conscious for looking nice. Right as you’re about to throw your hair up and grab a blanket to wrap around your shoulders, the screen goes black and then lights up, James is right in front of you. He doesn’t look right at you, still messing around with his notebook and taking a drink of water, obviously not realizing that you two are already connected. At first when he sees you his eyes just glance over. But then the realization hits and his eyes widen

**********************************************

“Wow,” Bucky is breathless. You’re not just beautiful, you’re stunning. He’s never been mesmerized by a single thing or person in his life, until this moment. “I- uh I’m-“ he lightly laughs as he smiles, he can’t stop smiling. “Hi I’m James,” he laughs and blushes as he hangs his head for a moment. “Um but people who have seen me stutter and stumble over my words, like an idiot, get to call me Bucky.” Your smile is contagious and your eyes sparkle brightly as Bucky talks more and more. Your laugh is sweet and music to his ears.

“Hi Bucky, I’m Elizabeth but people who can make me laugh this much can call me Lizzy or Bunny.” You lean forward a little and Bucky laughs.

“Bunny? There’s got to be a story behind that.” He presses lightly. You nod and hide your face for a moment as you blush and giggle.

“There is, but all I can say now is, it was college and I was very drunk, and someone dared me to use a pogo stick… and it turns out I was VERY good at it.” You laugh and Bucky is amazed as he laughs.

“Well so am I so maybe we will have to have a competition to see who is better.” He winks and you laugh.

“Tell me when and where! I’ll just need a few shots first then my balance will be perfect!” You lightly joke as you both laugh. It gets quiet for a minute and Bucky is just taking you in. “So,” Bucky’s eyes go wide as he remembers the whole reason for the zoom.

“Yes, right! Well how about we start by you telling me what you would like.” Bucky says as he grabs his notebook, looking down and starting to write, maybe if he focuses on writing he won’t embarrass himself even more. But then you start to speak and Bucky can’t help but look up and meet your gaze, your voice so sweet and soft. Your eyes kind and warm, ‘how could the username ‘talkdirtytome’ belong to the picture of purity and kindness.’ He smiles at the thought and tries his hardest to listen as you talk.

“I’m not picky at all, so maybe a vase?” You suggest. “Yeah, I’d like to have a gift that means something to me.” You finish explaining. Bucky just stares and then realizes you are done, he quickly looks down and starts to scribble some notes. He is so handsome, you think. The way his brow furrows as he’s concentrating and how the subtle but noticeable blush spreads across his cheeks. His shoulders are firm and you can tell he is solid. His voice, deep and warm, catches you off guard and you hope he didn’t catch you looking starry eyed at him.

“A Vase? That I can do!” Bucky says happily. He didn’t miss how your voice turned ever sweeter when you said ‘a gift that means something.’ He tells himself not to bet too excited. “Colors? Designs?” He wonders what all is hiding in your mind and if you will share it with him now for this vase. If he can get a picture of who you are.

“I love wildflowers, if I’m being honest. But not bright and bold. More subtle and muted. Almost watercolor like.” You laugh to yourself and you see Bucky’s eyes light up at the sound. “Sorry I know that probably sounds weird.”

She’s perfect, Bucky thinks. “Watercolored wild flowers? Yeah, I can make that happen.” He doesn’t want this to end but he has all he needs. How to make this go longer?! “So- I’m local to Brooklyn- and you by no means have to tell me where you’re from or anything- unless you want to!” He cringes at his awkwardness and your giggles let him know it’s alright.

“I am too, well close enough.” You explain. “So maybe we could meet up?” You see Bucky’s eyes light up and then you shoot yourself in the foot. “When it’s time for me to pick up the vase.” His eyes look a little sadder but his smile doesn’t fade.

“Yeah, I’ll send you a message on TikTok when it’s ready and we can find a place to meet.” Bucky says as he sits back in his chair. “I’m excited to get started on it, it looks like a fun one.” He continues as he looks down at his notes.

“I know it will be wonderful, all your work is.” You compliment, wanting to make up for your error that cause the light to dull in those incredible blue eyes. “I do have a question,” He leans forward again.

“Shoot.” Plan and simple.

“Well, what’s up with your two different accounts and the one username? Because at first I thought it was a porn page.” You explain, hopping to get a laugh. And you did. Bucky laughs, his hand over his pec and head thrown back with abandon.

“Oh no! Were you disappointed?” He teases and you laugh.

“Well maybe I was!” You tease back, not quite sure where the courage came from.

“Well as you know now, I go by Bucky. So I just used the ‘Clay mates’ and my name which does sound a lot like-“

“Yeah! So why?” You press again, smiling even bigger.

“It was a dare from a friend and it kinda stuck. I get tons of people asking so it also generates conversations around my business and what not. So it works! Is it crass? Kinda. Do I care? No.” He laughs again and messes with his hair a little. “So you know I make pottery but what do you do, Bunny?” He smirks and your face is aflame at the use of your nickname.

“I’m a writer, I write romance novels.” Suddenly feels quite bashful about your job. Bucky nods and rubs his chin as he watches you.

“So? Is this a meet cute worthy of one of your books?” Bucky asks. You look behind the computer at your wall where you storyboards are. A gentle smile washes over you as you look back at an expectant Bucky.

“Yeah, I’d say it is.” You admit. An alarm goes off on Bucky’s side of the screen and he curses under his breath.

“Sorry, Bunny. I’ve got to go. If I’m being honest I really wish I didn’t. I’d love to stay here all night getting to know you, I promised a friend I’d go out tonight and I never break a promise. So with that knowledge handed to you on a silver platter,” you laugh and he smiles brightly again. “I promise I will make you a gift that means something.” Your breath catches and you nod slightly.

“Thank you, Bucky.” You say before you both wave goodbye like dorks.

**********************************************

Your chance, gone. Like a lot of chances in your life. Watching them go by because you don’t have the courage to ask for what you want. Natasha walks into your room and pulls you up from the bed. “Come on, we are late.” You finally agreed to go out with just her when you started to come down from the high of getting to talk to Bucky. “I promise, you will have fun. In fact this will be the best night of your life.” She hugs you and leads you to the door. As it opens you come face to face with Natasha’s ‘tiktok boyfriend’

“Hiya Stevie,” Natasha coos as she leans in and gives him a sweet kiss. Steve meets your gaze when he pulls back and offers his hand.

“Hey! I’m Steve Rogers,” he motions beside him, urging someone to move in closer. “And this is my friend Bucky Barnes.” You meet those blue eyes and melt, Bucky’s painfully awkward smile turns genuine when he sees you. He almost shoves Steve out of the way to get closer to you.

“Oh my god- Bunny?!” Bucky exclaims. “So your friend who made your TikTok account is the same one my friend has been dating for the past two months,” he smiles and laughs. “What a small world! God, I’m glad to see you.” You blush at the nickname, Natasha bumping your arm and Steve giving you both a questioning look when he hears the name.

You are just as shocked as Bucky and honestly can’t find the words.

“I’m stunned,” you laugh and look at Natasha. “Did you know?!” You ask her and she smirks as she pulls Steve into her arms.

“I would know my man’s voice and hands anywhere, so when I saw and heard him on one of Bucky’s videos I quickly texted Stevie and we worked our magic.” She winks. “I mean out of 500 entries for the pottery and you won! How lucky was that.” She winks again and you gasp.

“Did you two rig the drawling?!?” You exclaim and Bucky shoots a glance to Steve who is blushing bright red.

“I may have added a few extra slips with your name.” He admits. Bucky turns and faces him as he crosses his arms.

“How many?” Bucky asks and Steve laughs and sheepishly admits,

“Like 200 extra slips. She had a very good chance at winning.” Steve looks at Natasha and then you and Bucky. You both laugh and Bucky turns back to you.

“Well I’m sure as hell not mad,” he reaches out for your hand. “Are you?” He questions and you shake your head no as you put your hand in his. “Good,” Bucky leans in closer and pulls you in, your lips almost brush when you hear your apartment door close and lock. Looking back you see that Natasha and Steve have slipped inside. “So I guess it’s just us tonight,” he laughs and you agree. “What would you like to do? Cause I have no idea what they had planned.” You think for a minute and then turn back to the door and knock. Bucky lets go of your hand and you quickly grab it back giving him a wink. A slightly irritated Natasha opens the door, lipstick gone and smeared all over Steve’s face.

“What?” She asks and you push past her headed to your room. Bucky stands in the hallway watching and praying you come back.

You emerge with your purse that’s pretty big and Natasha knows that’s your “just in case I spend the night.” Purse. You wave goodbye as you grab your keys and close the door behind you. Turning to Bucky and pulling him in, you kiss his cheek and wrap your arms around one of his.

“Where to?” You ask.

**********************************************

Steve drove them there so you offer to drive wherever.

“Would it be too forward to invite you back to my place? I’d really like to show you my studio.” He asks so sweetly, you can tell he is nervous. You tease him a little

“Is that your line for all the girl?” Bucky laughs and shakes his head.

“Nope, I never bring girls back to my studio. But if love to have you there.” The double meaning is not Lost on you or Bucky. The blush giving you away, Bucky laughs and pulls you closer before kissing your forehead and taking your keys. “You okay if I drive us?”

“Sure, just promise not to murder me.” You joke as you climb in your car. Bucky sits and gets it started before he looks at you and shrugs.

“No promises, my art has been described as deadly good.” He winks and you laugh at his horrible joke. Soon you are pulling up to a little house with a detached garage.

“You know, it really does look like you’re about to kill me.” You tease but also look around and check the area.

“I know, it’s not the best house but it works and it’s clean. A good neighborhood and lots of space so Steve and I really try hard for our personalities to outshine the murder aesthetic our house gives off.” He takes your hand and walks you to the garage as you laugh. The garage lights up and on every wall is a shelf full of pottery projects. Some half done, some completely done.

“Wow! Bucky, these are amazing!” You exclaim as you look at the intricate detail on each piece. You turn to meet his gaze and he is leaning against his work table just watching you. Moving through the room with Grace and admiring his work, it’s really doing something to him. He hopes you feel the same way.

“So? How did you get into pottery?” You ask as you run your finger along one of the freshly finished pieces.

“I was in the army, when I got out I needed a hobby that I could turn my mind off and just work. Pottery gave me a place for that and it also gave me a place to rediscover my creativity.” Bucky explains. You turn and look at him, gentle as in your eyes.

“That’s why you said that comment about wounded warriors. You wanna support your fellow vets.” You hope your assumption is correct. Bucky nods and smiles, staying firmly where he is.

“Yeah, I nearly lost my arm before I got out. Others aren’t so lucky. So any way I can give back, I try to.” He picks up a piece of clay and start to mold it while talking, mindless work that helps settle his nerves and al the feelings he is having about you.

“That’s amazing.” You say simply, not wanting to push more.

“How did you get into Romance writing?” Bucky asks, a teasing smile across his face. You laugh and continue to walk around the room, looking at the pieces.

“Well, I’m a hopeless romantic,” you look up and meet his gaze. “So I guess I just write about the things I hope would happen to me.” You shrug, your explanation seems simple enough. Bucky is mesmerized by you, how such a beautiful and sweet woman would be single blows his mind. And so sincere too, none of that fake humility he sees in the women he meets who are as beautiful as you, with you, it’s all real and sweet. It’s refreshing.

“How long have you and Steve Been friends?” You ask, wanting to change the topic from yourself.

“Since childhood, he was always getting his ass beat behind the school and I was always there to step in and finish the fight he started.” You laugh and so does Bucky.

“So Steve was a bully?” You ask.

“No!” Bucky laughs. “Just a little punk who wanted to ‘stick up for the little guy’ but he was the little guy, so.” Bucky lightly laughs and you nod. “How about you and Natasha?”

“Since high school. Her family moved here and she was all ‘cool and steely’ that none of the other kids wanted to talk to her,” you laugh at the thought. “I made it my mission to become friends with her. By senior year we were going to go to the same college and we’re going to room together.”

“She seems like a pretty great friend.” Bucky comments, “And Steve adores her but I’m sure she already knows that cause Steve wears his heart on his sleeve.” Bucky teases and you laugh. For a moment it’s quiet, Bucky just watches you and you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach and a heat settle even lower. This man is so sweet and kind, not to mention incredibly hot. He is absolutely making you regret not wearing your sexy underwear tonight. You see some clay and the wheel sitting in the middle of the floor. You walk over and run a finger over the clay. Looking up and see Bucky’s eyes raking over your body, you feel invigorated. As sexily as you can, you sit on the stool and toss a look over at him.

“Teach me, please?” You demand and then ask. You see the moment Bucky melts and is all in. He smirks and walks over, pulling up a chair behind you and straddling your body. He places his hands on your and shows you where to plant your feet. He leans forward and whispers against your ear.

“This is a little too ‘Ghost’ for me.” He teases and you giggle as you turn and look at him. His eyes drop to your lips and then back to your eyes. Clay forgotten, you spin in his arms and crash your lips to his. His hands roam over your back, pulling you closer. You moan against his lips, desperate for more, but he pulls away. Breathless and blushing he asks. “I hope this isn’t too forward, would you like to stay the night?” You smirk and move back, away from his arms to grab your bag. Reaching your hand out for him to take again.

“Lead the way.” You coo. Bucky has you in his arms and pressed against his chest so quickly. His lips capture yours again and you giggle against them. Bucky lifts you into his arms and expertly makes his way into the house, never leaving your lips longer than a Quick Look at the doors to make sure they are locked.

Stumbling down the hallway, backs pressed against the walls as you both fight for dominance. Giggles and moans filling the air as you grope each others bodies, seeking flesh rather than clothing. When your back finally presses against Bucky’s door, he pulls back and takes your face in his hands. “This isn’t too fast, is it? You feel this too, right? This connection- this pull.” You bite your lip and nod as you place your hands firmly against his chest, the muscles beneath your fingers, firm and hard, drool worthy.

“Yeah, I feel it too.” You admit before kissing him again and moaning against his mouth. Bucky opens the door and kicks it closed with his boot. He walks you backwards to the bed and in utter abandon you allow yourself to fall, fall back, fall in, fall deep. Pulling back slightly, Bucky caresses your cheek and meets your gaze, your heartbeat quickens as he gently smiles and an exciting peace washes over you. You’ve never felt this safe, this fast. Slowing the pace, Bucky takes his time with you. Kissing down your neck and nipping lightly at your collarbone before his fingers dance at the hem of your shirt. Your hands slips under his shirt and your fingers draw line over his back as he moves above you. First to go his his shirt, tossed behind him and across the room. He sees your eyes trailing down his body and he gives you a moment to take it in. His chest is sculpted yet still soft under your touch, the tasteful amount of chest hair along his pec and sternum tickle your fingers as you memorize his body with your finger tips, and the trail of dark brown hair leading down from his bellybutton and disappearing below his waistband sends your mind into over drive. You lean up and kiss along his chest as he moans at the feeling of your tongue grazing along his nipples. He grabs the hem of your shirt and lifts it up and over your head, tossing it with his. Leaning down and kissing the tops of your breast, he is in heaven. The straps slip down and before you know it you are uncoupling the back and tossing it off, needing as little clothing between the two of you as possible. Bucky reaches for his pants and has them shoved down and off as you remove yours. Standing above you in only black boxer briefs you see the outline of his cock, hard and aching against his boxers. Your mouth waters and yet you are slightly afraid because you can tell he is big. Bigger than any man you’ve been with. Bucky settles on the bed between your legs and slips his hands in the waistband of your panties, waiting for permission, you nod and he has them down you leg and scattered with the rest of the clothes. You sit up and kneel in front of where he kneels on the bed, pulling you closer by the small of your back, Bucky kisses you. You wrap your hands around his waist and slip one hand down his boxers, squeezing his ass before waiting for permission to pull them down. He nods, not wanting to release your lips. When nothing is left between your bodies you lay back in Bucky’s arms and he settles between your legs. Rolling his hips against yours and giving you both friction where you desperately need it. Your moan echos off the walls and he smiles, knowing he is the cause. Bucky kisses down your body and ends up laying between you legs as he licks and sucks on your clit, gently teasing your pussy with a fingertip before pushing all the way in and devoting himself to making you cum on his face. You hands play with his hair as his other hand palms your breast. It’s so fast and so good, you can’t help but moan his name as you cum, squirting on his tongue. “Bucky!! Oh-fffffuuuuc- yes!!” He smirks up at you which makes you cum again. He moans and hums against you as he brings you down. He kisses up your body and settles between you legs.

“I can grab a condom if you want.” Bucky says as he is already reaching into his bedside table to grab one.

“I’m on the pill and I’m clean, I haven’t been with anyone in about a year.” You explain. Bucky nods and takes a shuddering breath before he kisses you again.

“I’m clean too, and it’s been even longer for me.” He gives a weak little smile and you caress the side of his face before you gently kiss his lips.

“Never would have guessed with what that mouth just did to me.” You tease, trying to lighten the mood while letting him know he’s still got it. Bucky laughs and kisses you again as he lines himself up with you. Slowly pushing in and watching your face for pain as he bottoms out. “Mmhm ffffuc- yyyeeesss!” you moan at the stretch. Bucky kisses you again and slowly starts to move his hips, in and out, making sure to hit that spot inside of you over and over again. At first he is laying on top of you, your bodies moving together and against each other, it was sweet and sensual. Then Bucky sits up a little and you take that moment to flip him over, pinning him to the bed with a giant smile on his face. You ride him as you brace your hands against his pecs. His moans growing louder and louder as you get him close to the edge. You sit up and play with your breast and you snap your hips back and forth, ready to bring him over. But apparently that wasn’t what he wanted, because suddenly you are on your back and your legs are over his shoulders as he drills into you while one hand plays with your clit. You gasp and moan as you writhe beneath him. “Oh! BUCKY?!?! Yesyesyes!!!”

“That’s it, Bunny. Come on, I’m not cumming till you have cum on my cock. Come on, baby girl.” That did it, his dirty talk and care. You melted beneath him as you cum, squirting again and feeling better than you’ve felt tin years. “That’s it Good girl,” Bucky coos as he chases his high. Pleasure washes over his face as he buries himself inside you, cumming hard and deep. “Mmhmm squeezing my cock so well,” he is in utter bliss and he lets your legs go and just lays down next to you, his softening cock still inside. He kisses your forehead and hums. “Good girl.” You beam up at him, the praise doing something new to you that it’s never done before. He kisses you before he pulls the covers up and over you body, still entangled and coming down from heaven.

“Mmhmm that was definitely the makings of a meet cute.” You admit and Bucky laughs as he kisses you again.

“Come on, let’s go ‘meet cute’ in the shower, huh?!” He pulls you up and into his arms you nod and he carry’s you away.

**********************************************

You stand at the door to you car, the sun rising beautifully and creating a glow around you two. “I wish you could stay longer but I understand why you have to go.” Bucky says as he kisses you again.

“My book won’t write itself and if I stay here I will end up participating in smut and not writing it, which is the chapter I am currently working on so.” You explain as Bucky lightly laughs before he smirks and kisses you.

“Well, feel free to use last night in bed as inspiration. Or the shower last night, or the midnight hand play we had, or ever the slow morning sex we just finished.” He beams as he retells the all the adventures you got up to last night. You blush and burry your head in his chest as he hugs you and laughs.

“I will call you tonight and see about dinner, okay?” He nods and you kiss him again. As you are about to get in your car, Steve’s car pulls in. He honks loudly and gets out cheering and clapping. Completely embarrassing Bucky and you, but you know it’s in good fun.

“Were you two safe?” He asks, adding more fuel to the embarrassment fire.

“Nope, not at all!” Bucky shoots back and you decide to tease too.

“Yeah, totally pregnant over here. It worked that fast! Get ready to move into the garage, Stevie, the baby is gonna need your room.” Bucky laughs and pulls you closer. He kisses you again and then sends you on your way. Bucky turns to Steve and you see them “fighting” as you drive away.

**********************************************

When you get home Natasha is dead to the world and you decide to leave her that way. You see a notification on your phone, it’s Bucky’s TikTok. Opening the app to see a new video.

“Hey guys! Sorry about no live last night.” He blushes, “I uh I met a really amazing Women and my night ended up going a little too well. And it may continue that way, so there may be a change in the live schedule as well as the posting schedule. She’s a writer and our ‘meet cute’ inspired quite a lot in her and I need to be available for any further inspiration.” He winks and then laughs. “But seriously, I’m still around, just maybe not every night anymore. Love you all!” And with that the video ends. You smirk and quickly send Bucky a text.

Message

Hey James, your new Women friend needs some inspiration 😏😉

Within seconds your phone is ringing, as you answer his voice is soothing and so low it’s almost like a purr. “Well, what did you have in mind, Bunny?”

Taglist: @georgiapeach30513 @theinheriteddutchess @rainydayandmondays @cadencejames87 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @jessieasher1616 @janineb86 @cjand10 @welp-heregoessomething

#bucky barnes smut #sebastian stan #bucky barnes #steve rogers #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes au

[newtonsheffield]

Someone's about to get lifted onto a desk 👀👀👀

I do not doubt that for a single second tbh.

Also: this is Kate’s study! It’s too femininely decorated for it to be Anthony’s, even in his new wife guy era. And I love that for her.

I love that she has space for herself, and space to write her letters and run the household. I can also imagine her lips parting in surprise the very first time she saw the ledgers and she saw exactly how much money the Bridgertons have.

“Everything alright, Love?”

Kate let her eyes flick to Anthony, lounging in the chair across on the other side of the viscountess’s, of her desk. “Fine.”

“You look shocked.” Anthony sighed, “Let me guess you’re about to admonish me for letting my books fall into such disrepair but I would remind you why I haven’t had much time for bookmaking recently.”

Kate rolled her eyes, “It’s not… that. I suppose I just… knew you were wealthy but seeing it in person is another thing.”

“We are wealthy.” Anthony corrected lightly, “I hardly expect you to ask me for every little thing you want. That’s an awful way some men make their wives live.”

Kate rolled her eyes, “And here I thought I heard a rumour about you quizzing young ladies on a penchant for over spending.”

“People exaggerate. Or perhaps I don’t mind making you happy,”

It had seemed odd to Kate at first, the frequency with which Anthony seemed present in her study, especially as one of the other ladies had laughed when she’d mention that she and Anthony had been in there together.

“God, Herbert wouldn’t even know where to find it.”

But it seems normal now, having Anthony poke his head in. So much so that she doesn’t even need to look up to know who’s just slipped in and closed the door behind him.

“Viscountess, you work far too hard.”

Kate but back her smile at his use of her title. “Oh no, no, no. You’re supposed to be working. And I know what you calling me that means.”

Anthony looked at her innocently while he flopped down into the chair opposite her, “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about. I only thought Gee, I hope my beautiful wife’s not getting bored all alone like I am.”

Kate leaned back in her chair, “So you’ve come to save me have you?”

He gestured to himself, grinning cheekily. “I’m your knight in shining armor, yes.”

“And here I thought you intended to rarely see your wife, I can’t seem to get rid of you.” Kate teased, leaning back in her chair. “Though I suppose that has its merits.”

“It does,” Anthony said eagerly, “I’d be more than happy, Viscountess, to show you just how willing I am to make your afternoon just a little bit more pleasurable.”

Kate’s breath caught, “Lock the door then.”

Anthony practically scrambled back over the chair. “Yes Ma’am.”

#kathony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #molly’s asks and answers

[kiwiana-writes]

Six(ish) Sentence Sunday

I tripped into a new WIP document again, whoops. This one is even more self-indulgent than usual (which is fucking saying something) aaaaaaaaaaand I already had a wee cry writing the end of it—and yes, the end was almost the first thing I wrote. I'M SURE IT'S FINE. I also made a moodboard for Inspiration Weekend earlier today, and while I think the snippet below will give pretty much everyone a good GENERAL idea of what I'm doing here, the moodboard + a couple of other little meta hints will be enough for those in the know to figure out more SPECIFICALLY what I'm doing here (and therefore why I had a weep writing the ending).

“It’s called NORA.” Henry barely spares Alex a glance, heading straight for the controls; he and NORA know each other well enough by now that she hums to life under his palms. “Navigational Oscillation of Relative Astronomy. And before you ask, no, I didn’t come up with the name. I’d tell you to take it up with the Time Lords, but…” he trails off as Alex gasps loudly, realising too late that he forgot to warn the man before opening the doors.  “It’s… bigger! On the inside! From the outside it looks small, but then inside… all this space!” There’s something odd about the way Alex is holding himself—his too-bright expression as he looks around, the way his palm presses to the centre of his chest instead of over his heart—but Henry doesn’t have time to figure it out, nor to hold this stranger’s hand through a fairly basic level of dimensional transcendentality. His Alex is running around out there somewhere, wearing god-knows-which of his dozen faces and liable to return to NORA at some point. And if he finds out Henry’s here… He knows exactly what will happen if Alex—his Alex—finds him. Henry’s not an idiot, and his diary is almost full.  But that’s a problem for another time. Right now, he has a job to do. And this man who invited himself along, with the right name and the wrong face, is nothing short of a distraction.

Is tagging still borked? Who's to say.

Tagging @agame-writes @affectionatelyrs @anincompletelist @celeritas2997 @cha-melodius

@clottedcreamfudge @cricketnationrise @dumbpeachjuice @everwitch-magiks @firenati0n

@getmehighonmagic @happiness-of-the-pursuit @heysweetheart-writes @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @indestructibleheart

@inexplicablymine @jellibuns @junebugclaremontdiaz @leaves-of-laurelin @littlemisskittentoes

@lizzie-bennetdarcy @magicandarchery @matherines @myheartalivewrites @ninzied

@nocoastposts @nontoxic-writes @notspecialbabe @orchidscript @piratefalls

@read-and-write- @rmd-writes @sherryvalli @ships-to-sail @smc-27

@sparklepocalypse @stereopticons @tintagel-or-cockleshells @welcometololaland @whimsymanaged and, as always, anyone who wants to play! (If you take the open tag please tag me so I can see!!)

#six sentence sunday #kiwiana-writes #fic: like loving the stars themselves

[gallavichsreddie1128]

The Bet (Homelander)

Description: Homelander and Y/N make a bet that ends sexual

Warning: Smut

Word Count: 1,545k

Homelander and Y/N had an odd friendship. Not many people that meet the man put up with him or consider him a friend except Y/N. She knew he was fucked up and not okay in the head but he wasn’t an asshole to her like he was everyone else. She didn’t think much of it given the fact that she seemed to be the only one nice to him. Annie questioned her about it all the time, telling Y/N he was awful and that she couldn’t understand what Y/N saw in him. Y/N seemed to be the only one that put up with his bullshit. Y/N always told her the same thing. “He doesn’t act like that towards me.” Cuz he didn’t. Nobody knew why or understood it but that’s how it was. 

“Black Noir would kick A-Train’s ass. Are you kidding me?” Homelander said. Y/N Shrugged. “I don’t know. A-Train is fast.” “Fast is all he has.” Homelander says. Y/N stood up. “Alright then. Why don’t we make a bet?” She asked. “What kind of bet?” He asked. “If I win you have to be my personal slave for the entire week.” “And If I win..” “That’s up to you.” He smirked. “If I win I get to fuck you. Here on this table.” She was taken back by what he said. Her jaw dropped and he held the smirk. “Wait what?” She asked. He stood up from his chair. “Oh come on, Don’t act like you don’t want me to.” He said. He was a cocky son of a bitch that’s for sure. But she hadn’t really thought about it. She did find him attractive and they had a decent friendship but the thought of them having sex never crossed her mind before. “I can change it if that was too much.” He said. She shook her head. “No, it’s fine. Deal.” She said and they shook hands. 

Her jaw dropped as she watched A-Train fall to the ground. Black Noir won so quickly and easily she really didn’t stand a chance at winning this bet. Homelander had a huge smile as the scene played out in front of him. He wanted to shout “yes” at the rooftops but he looked over at Y/N and she looked defeated. He wondered if that was from the bet itself or from the fact that she lost. Either way his dick was going to be inside of her by the end of the night. She looked at him with wide eyes. “I didn’t even stand a chance.” She said. “Well I don’t know about you but I’d rather be in your shoes than A-Trains.” He said and she laughed. “And besides at least now you’ll be fucked like you deserved to be.” He whispered in her ear. That sent shivers down her body. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath trying to calm herself. He smirked at her reaction and walked away. 

She stood inside the quarters for the seven as she waited for Homelander to arrive. Her nerves were through the roof as she paced around the room. She went and bought a matching set that was red and it was under her clothes. She wasn’t in her costume but she figured he would be. She heard the door open and she stopped pacing and turned to see Homelander with a smirk on his face. She looked at him as he walked over to her. He didn’t look the least bit nervous but she was. “How long have you been in here for?” He asked her. “An hour.” She whispered. He chuckled and got closer to her. “Are you nervous?” He asked her.

She nodded and he backed her up to the table. His gloved hand put strands of hair behind her ear. “Well don’t be beautiful. I’m gonna make you feel so good.” He whispered the last part in her ear and bit it gently. She closed her eyes and sighed. His hands traveled down to her hips and lifted her on the table. She looked at him and they kissed. His lips moved against hers roughly and she pulled back. “Be gentle baby, we’ve got all night.” She whispered against his lips. Her calling him baby turned him on even more but he listened. She cupped his jaw as they kissed softly this time. His hands went under her shirt and cupped her boobs making her moan into the kiss. She pulled back from the kiss and took off her shirt revealing the red lace bra. His eyes darkened at the sight of her. He pushed her so she was laying down on the table and he kissed down her chest to her abdomen. He undid her jeans and pulled them off her revealing the red panties that matched the bra.

He took in the sight of her and sighed. “You are so beautiful.” He said, making her blush. He hooked his fingers in her lace panties but saw a hole where her pussy was showing out of. “So you wanna be fucked in the lingerie?” He asked. “Yes.” She said which made him smirk. He dropped to his knees and got the scent of her wet pussy. She smelled delicious and sweet. He nuzzled his nose in her making her gasp out and grab ahold of his hair. He took a big sniff and moaned. “Fuck, you smell so good.” He moaned and licked a big stripe up her pussy. She let out a loud moan. He took that as a sign to continue. He pulled her legs so they were over his shoulder and he started sucking and licking her pussy like it was his last meal. Her noises were loud and whiny. He was thankful the room was soundproof or some of the other heroes staying there could walk in.

He wouldn’t care if they did but he also didn’t want anyone else to see her like this. Her moans were so pretty and hot that he was getting so hard just hearing her. Her hips started humping his face and she screamed out at the feeling. His nose managed to bump perfectly on her clit making her sob. He groaned at the noise getting more turned on by the second. She was clenching around nothing and was so close. “Homelander.” She cried. “John.” He told her his name and it was all she could moan. Her breathing was getting louder and she started panting like a dog. “John, I'm gonna cum.” She whined out. He hummed against her and didn’t stop. Both of their movements were sloppy and seconds later she came with a loud moan of his name. He lapped up her juices as they spilled out of her and onto his face.

She pushed his face away once her climax had settled and she felt sensitive. He laughed and looked at her. Her chest was moving up and down fast and her eyes were closed. He stood up and she opened her eyes. She looked at him and was instantly wet again at the sight. His mouth and nose were covered in her slick. “You taste pretty good.” He chuckled. She let out a breathy laugh and sat up. She watched as he pulled down the bottom of his suit. His dick was huge and it made her shiver at bit just the thought of that inside of her. He chuckled at her reaction and pulled her closer to him. “I plan on making you cum 100 times tonight.” He growled as he entered her. She moaned out at the feeling and he groaned. She was squeezing him so hard. “Fuck, you’re tight.” He growled and started moving his hips. She wrapped her arms around his neck and placed her head on his shoulder. His arms were already around her holding her as close as possible.

They were basically hugging as he fucked her hard. The table was making a weird noise but it could barely be heard over her loud moans and his groans. “I’ve dreamed about this moment.” He growled and she moaned in response. She never would have thought that this would be the best sex of her life but it was. His hips knocking into hers. His name was all she seemed to know. He was moaning too but to her that was the hottest thing she has ever heard. Her body was falling onto his as she was getting close to her orgasm. He felt her clenching around him making him whine her name. “I’m so close, baby.” He moaned out and she nodded and looked up at him.

She managed to lean up and kiss him with everything she had. He kissed her back and she whined into the kiss and he felt her cum all over him. That triggered his release and his hips lost their rhythm. They pulled away from the kiss to moan and to breathe. They were both panting at this point and Y/N collapsed on the table. He didn’t pull out of her and got hard again. She looked up at him and he smirked at her. “I told you I was making you cum 100 times tonight.” He smirked. Boy he wasn’t kidding.

#the boys #the boys imagine #the boys amazon #homelander #homelander x reader #homelander imagine #homelander smut #homelander x you #antony starr

[bronzebtch]

headcanon + reaction to annulment. this of course will differ with each portrayal of da3mon i am writing with, but — i’d like to believe the news of annulment, when it came for rhea, it was actually quite a quiet affair. as in, more than likely, rhea simply received a letter announcing the annulment of her marriage and she opens it up in her solar. if da3mon did have the decency to at least deliver the news himself, i’d like to think maybe they would even share a drink, and perhaps, just maybe, rhea will tell him she’s sorry for not being what he wanted. then she would insist to see him off one last time. whatever it may be, once it is done, rhea would inform her cousin that whatever meetings or arrangement she has for the day will need to be postponed for the next day. she will then take her horse, rides and rides and rides before she finds a creek somewhere, sits, stares at the reflection in the water, and simply weeps.

#this was rlly inspired by a talk with vic quite a while ago #and even tho we’ve sort of only touched-and-go on the scenario… the idea stayed with me #and the thing is……… she wouldnt have wept fully bc she loved him or anything #but i think. in a way. its like…. yes. what they have is a wretched barren thing. but isnt it still theirs? #isnt it still hers? #and i wonder if she even had a say in the annulment #like….. i suppose she always assumed da3mon would seek to end it #but have anyone asked HER or readied HER to accept that it will come to an end? #or was it still like how it was in the beginning? that she was only ever the backseat to her own marriage #its odd for me to write rhea so detached sometimes #but then like…….. she DOES to an extent mourn for the targs. mourns for her (former) husband #its such a weird place for her to be in. #* also this is taken from the fact that (1) in westerosi customs there are NO divorces. only high septons and kings can grant annulment #(2) and even when they do. not all parties involved needed to be there for it to be granted. which is what i assumed happen #altho to also explore rhea being there when the high septon finally grant annulment might be a scenario i’d like to one day play with 🤔 #BRONZE BITCH: HEADCANONS.

[danveration]

Sleep well, amour.

Parings: Alastor x reader

Summary: You’ve been very intrested in Alastor ever since you met him. He invites you to see his recording studio, which you accept. Then you ask if you can stay and listen to him host! While listening, you fall asleep. How does he react?

Word count: 2844

Warnings: Ummm not really much? Alastor being Alastor! One mention of not being able to sleep sometimes, mention of seeing people in hell doing dr*gs, k*lling eachother, and fighting, mention of reader having bad social skills (?)

part two

A/N: UM!! this is my first time writing for alastor, so apologies if it isn’t the best. Please give me any feedback you want, I’d love to hear it! Also sorry for any spelling mistakes. I hope you enjoy :’)

Alastor the radio demon. You know of the things he’s done, you know that people are quite literally terrified of him. But for some reason... you feel a certain way towards him that you can’t describe, but it’s surely not fear.

You’ve had a some-what odd admiration of him since you landed in hell, only a few months ago. You got spotted by Charlie when you first got to hell. She noticed you looking around nervously and lost, and put two and two together that you must be new. She very kindly introduced herself which was refreshing because.. well.. it’s hell. Everywhere you looked people were fighting, doing drugs, and even killing each other. You were glad there were kind people even down here.

“Hi, you! Uh, you lost?” Charlie smiled you and waved.

“Um yeah! I’m guessing this is hell, huh?” You awkwardly chuckle. Social skills weren’t ever your thing, it seems they haven’t got better after you died, either.

“Yep! This is hell! You must be new? I’m Charlie! Charlie Morningstar. It’s so nice to meet you.” She smiled and stuck out her hand for you to shake.

“Nice to meet you, Charlie! My names Y/n.” You politely smiled back and shook her hand.

After that meeting, Charlie showed you to the hotel in which you eagerly accepted to stay at, her being the only sane thing you’ve seen down here. It was a pretty nice place, no 5 star hotel like back on earth, but it was something you’re very grateful for. Who knows what would’ve happened to you if you haven’t met her.

While she was showing you around, someone caught your eye. He was a tall man, very polite and respectful looking. He was dressed head to toe in old fashioned attire, with a cane to suit his charming look. He was smiling in a way that made you look at him like he was something you wanted to inspect under a magnifying glass.

He glanced at you and smiled larger, stepping over to you and Charlie.

“My, my! What do we have here? Charlie! You didn’t tell me that we’ve got more guests? It’s a pleasure to meet you, my dear! The names Alastor!” He spoke politely.

His voice was sort of.. Radio-like? You found it soothing.

“Haha yeah! I found them wandering around on the street this morning! They’re a newcomer, their name is Y/n.” She spoke back, excited to introduce you.

“Y/n! Well, my, my. That’s quite a lovely name!” He said. “Say.. do you listen to radio? I host a brilliant radio broadcast that’ll give you some real insight on this place!” He said enthusiastically.

“Oh.. haha thank you” You smile. “I do actually! I love radio shows.” You immediately feel drawn towads him. You cant tell if it’s just the new scenery or what.. but you want to just sit and chat with him for hours.

Alastor perks up at that. “Oh you do, do you?” He smiled more.

“Yeah! Back when I was.. uhm.. alive, I actually had a whole playlist of them! What do you do your show about?” You ask.

Alastor is delighted to have you take interest in his show. “Well, dear, I do all sorts of things on there! Yes, yes, you think of it and I’ve most probably done it! Most commonly known is the souls I entrap and prison, as I broadcast their screams of horror all over this horrible place and people get to hear the noises of their never-ending torture and demise. But! I also just made a wonderful segment on my mother’s Jambalaya recipe!” He stated.

While part of those sentences gave you chills, you still seemed to take interest in him.

“Well,” you chuckle. “I will certainly check it out!” You smile.

“Ah! Wonderful news, my dear.” He said while he twirled his cane.

Charlie was watching you interact with him and noticed how you looked at him, as if admiring. She smile and said, “well! We better finish the tour.”

She motions for you to follow her and you do, waving Alastor goodbye.

He waves back and yells, “goodbye, sweetheart! Lovely to have met you.”

After that, you wanted absolutely everything to do with him. You’ve also got to know the other people staying at the hotel. Angel, Vaggie, Husk, Niffty, and Sir Pentious. They were overall kind people. Husk found your interest in Alastor to be no good.

“Yeah, no. That, whatever thing you have created in your mind about him, isn’t true. He’s vile, Y/n. Trust me on that.” He grunts.

Angel thought you had some kind of kink towards “scary, creepy men.” Which wasn’t true because you didn’t even find him scary. You found him charming.

“Ah.. Alastor? Fucking sexy weirdo if I do say so myself. He’s got some reaaal problems but hey, if you’re into that-“ You cut him off by saying it wasn’t like that & that you don’t think anything sexual towards him.

One day, you were talking to Sir Pentious about his “crush” on Cherry Bomb. He completely denied it but you could tell from his blush and his nervous demeanour that he was very interested in her.

You were caught off guard when you heard that radio voice coming up from behind you.

“Y/n, my dear! I have a question for you.” Alastor came and stood beside you, looking down from where you’re sitting.

“Al! Hey, what’s up?” You ask, containing your excitement.

Sir Pentious excused himself quickly, seeing one of his “egg boys” were being played with by Niffty. She isn’t one to be gentle.

“So, I know how you’ve been listening to my radio show as of late, and I was wondering if you’d like to see where the magic happens!” He states.

“R-really? I’d be honoured!” You say, smiling.

“Ah! Lovely. Come now, this way.”

You get up and he locks arms with you and chats about his new microphone that he got.

Once you guys arrive, you’re shocked. It looks very professional and comfortable. It suits him heavily. There’s a big open window, a desk, some chairs and sofas, a bunch of technical stuff on the desk along with his new mic that you recognize from his descriptions, and a deer coat hanger?

“Wow, Alastor. This place is so actually so sick. I love it. And the new microphone suits you!” You say. “Thank you for showing me, really.”

Typically, Alastor would never show someone something personal of his, including his studio, but you are an exception. He isn’t sure what it is about you but he doesn’t seem to hate you as much as he does with anyone else. At first he was weirded out, but now he just embraces it. He also feels protective of you. He doesn’t know exactly why you’re even down here. For as far is he can tell, you’re an angel. Always being kind even to those who aren’t kind to you, always saying “please” and “thank you,” all that jazz. Jazz! You even like jazz music, his favourite. He told you that he lived on earth the time jazz music was popular. The 20’s and 30’s. That explains his vocabulary and how he dresses. You just find it more interesting and take time to ask questions about what it was like in that time.

���Why of course, my dear! If I’d want to show anyone here, it would be you.” He says, giving you his iconic smile.

You have a thought. “Hey, Al? Would it be alright if the next time you do a show, I could stay and listen?”

You hope he doesn’t think this is odd.

Alastor raises a brow. “Why would you want to do that?” He asks.

You panic, thinking you went too far by asking and now he’s going to cut you off or something.

“Ha! Kidding, sweetheart! Of course you can. I love when my broadcast is wanted to be listened to. Though I love it as well when they don’t want to.” He says.

You’re relieved, a bit scared, but still relieved.

“Say!” He says. “I was going to make one tonight talking about this silly technology box that thinks he is better than me! You know, expose all his lies and secrets to my listeners, and unwilling listeners. Maybe broadcast it all throughout hell!” He starts laughing manically. Then calms down and stares at you.

“Would you want to stay and listen, hm? I can do it now! I didn’t have any plans today going forward and well, getting it out sooner is better than later, I always say.” He asks.

You know he’s talking about Vox when he mentioned the technology box. Him and Vox have a sort of rivalry going on. Though Alastor seems to not care much about him, Vox is sure obsessed. He’s even gone so far as to making posters about him. Which areee.. not much of a resemblance.

This offer strikes you and you immediately perk up. “Yes! I’d love to.” You say.

You don’t think Alastor knows this but whenever you’re struggling to sleep, you put on his radio show and his voice comforts you to sleep. You’re sure if you told him, he would find it weird.

Little did you know, Alastor already knew. He walked past your room one night and heard static sounds coming from your quarters. He immediately was intrigued and put his ear close to your door to hear his voice. He was surprised, but not weirded out. He found it delightful that you found comfort in his voice. It’s not everyday someone does. Usually it invokes terror and anxiety on anyone who hears. This was new, and he didn’t hate it.

“Lovely! Let me get all set up. You can sit wherever you feel the most comfortable!” He says, adjusting his mic and pressing a buttons on his table.

You find a spot and sit down. Feeling honored to even be in the same room as him, let alone HIS room.

“Ahem! Welcome ladies and gentlemen-“ He goes off into his introduction, before winking at you and starting.

After about 20 minutes, you begin to feel tired and put your head on the side of the wall, still listening but with your eyes closed.

Alastor immediately notices and smirks, knowing how his voice effects you. He continues on and after about another 20 minutes, he finishes up. You’re asleep, slightly smiling.

He walks over to you and looks down.

“My, my. You really are an interesting one, aren’t you?” He whispers. He smiles more softly than he usually does and looks around to find a purple blanket hanging on his deer coat hanger, and gently places it on you.

He feels his heart fluttering while looking down at you and he immediately shrugs it off.

“Mm well, my dear.. I guess you can stay here. I’ll just be over there, transferring my broadcast to the other radios around town.” He says and points to his table.

“Sleep well, amour.” He speaks softly.

#:alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #alastor the radio demon x reader #the radio demon x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader hazbin hotel #hes so pookie bear guys UGUHG #i love him sm #my works #alastor imagine #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor x you

[moonstruckme]

Hey I don’t know if you’re taking requests but if not just ignore this :) but if so could you write a poly!emt marauders fic where readers sick or something’s wrong but she doesn’t tell them or anyone until she gets semi seriously hurt

FYI your fics are literally my favorites they are so good I’ve been binging all your marauders fics <33

Thank you gorgeous!

cw: fainting, nausea, mention of skipping a meal

(also note: I used celsius because they’re british, but for my american homies 39.5 is just over 103 degrees fahrenheit)

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

Your day has been hazy. You knew you were off before you even left the house, the lazy sluggishness of sleep not wearing off the way it normally does, but you couldn’t afford to pay it any mind. Your work had gotten done slower than usual, frustrating for all the effort you put into it. The thought of lunch made your stomach churn, so you had mint tea during your break instead. The joints in your fingers ached from typing. Even now, sitting on the barstool at your kitchen counter while you try and finish up an assignment that really should have been done hours ago, your back seems stiffer than usual. Your bones hurt. 

“That’s far too much onion,” Sirius comments from the stool beside you, leaning across the counter to scrutinize James and Remus’ work in the kitchen. 

Remus pauses in dumping a cutting board full of chopped onion into the pan on the stove. You see him look at James in your periphery, and even without paying proper attention you know something passes between them. James takes the cutting board from Remus, scraping the remainder of the onion in with a knife. 

“Overruled,” he decrees. 

Sirius scoffs, leaning back and crossing his arms. “Have fun kissing me tonight.” 

“I’d think if we’re all eating it, we’ll be on fairly equal footing in that regard,” Remus points out. 

“Yes, equally foul-smelling. So romantic.” 

“Angel,” James says as he starts slicing up bell peppers, “do you plan on working on that all night?” 

“Almost done,” you murmur, trying to ignore how nauseous the smell of all the food makes you. You squint into the brightness of your laptop, typing as quick as you can think. Which is to say, not impressively fast. 

It’s your boyfriends’ day off, and they’ve decided to celebrate the rare occurrence of none of them being scheduled to work by going to the cinema. James and Remus are making dinner first, but the film’s in just under two hours. You know you’re sacrificing some time with them now, but it’s only so you can enjoy the main event later. Plus, if you stop working, you’re not sure you’ll be able to pick up the momentum to start again. You have a creeping sense that at the first opportunity for rest, you’ll lie down and never get up. 

James says something encouraging, and then the conversation goes on without you. You lock into your laptop screen, fingers pressing down upon the keyboard like an extension of your brain, and gradually the sensation of being outside of yourself, your body moving on autopilot while your mind simply fuzzes over, envelops you. Slowly, the world just…slips. 

An odd sound leaves Sirius as he lunges for you, like an alarm that went off without him telling it to. He catches you but not quite, one hand wrapping around your arm and the other fisting in the material of your shirt, stopping you from tipping over only temporarily. James runs from behind the counter to help. Accompanied by a steady stream of curses from both of his boyfriends, he eases you out of your stool and onto the floor. You’re already coming to. 

“Is she okay?” Remus asks from the kitchen, and Sirius hears the sound of the stove flicking off. 

“She’s hot,” James says, one hand cushioning your head from the floor while the other feels about your face and neck. 

The quip comes to Sirius naturally—as usual—but he’s in no mood to deliver it. Though he trusts James’ assessment, he touches the backs of his fingers to your forehead anyway, hissing at the heat that meets them. It’s a wonder he didn’t feel it emanating from you in the barstool next to him. 

“Angel,” James’ voice is a coo, gentleness coming naturally to him whereas Sirius’ panic feels hot and dangerous beneath his skin, “do you feel alright?” 

You hum, though it sounds more like a grunt. “Mhm.” 

Sirius almost laughs. “Come on,” he says, “be straight with us.” He works two fingers into your wrist to get your pulse, rubbing his free hand up your arm cajolingly. “You did just pass out, so we know you’re not fine.” 

Remus sets a hand on Sirius’ back as he lowers himself to the ground by your legs. A support for them both. 

“I…” You blink for a couple of seconds, and they wait, knowing you’re probably still out of it. “I guess I feel a little sick.” 

James cracks a smile, though it’s tinged with worry. “A little?” he asks, smoothing down the baby hairs at your temple. “You’ve got a horrid fever.” 

You sigh. “I figured.” 

“You figured?” Sirius is aghast. He suddenly has a very clear picture of how your day has gone, and it unnerves him. “How long have you been feeling like this?” 

You look wary, and Remus’ hand runs the length of Sirius’ back quickly as he stands. “Alright, let’s move you somewhere more comfortable, yeah dovey?” 

You relax a bit at the affection in his tone, and Sirius feels bad about ever making you miss it. This is something he’s never been able to quell about himself. His love almost always manifests roughly. For the most part, you all know how to interpret it, but when you’re vulnerable like this and he can feel you feeling the gnashing teeth of his worry, Sirius wishes he were gentler. 

James won’t let you walk yourself the short distance to the couch, lifting you in a bridal carry and setting you down with such carefulness it makes Sirius’ chest ache. Remus goes to get the thermometer. Sirius steals the spot beside your head selfishly. Thankfully, there’s no lingering timidity in your gaze as he combs his fingers through your hair, pushing it away from your ear and trailing his fingers down your neck. 

“You’ve been feeling unwell for a while,” he says, softer this time, “haven’t you.” 

You look more guilty than anything, eyes going big and doe-like. “Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you say?” James asks, lifting your legs so he can scooch underneath. He rubs the skin above your knees fondly, a small furrow between his brows. 

“I just,” you sigh as though disappointed, “wasn’t ready.” 

“Wasn’t ready for what?” 

“To be sick.” 

The scratchy, delightful sound of Remus’ laugh comes into the room with him. “Well that’s silly,” he says, reaching over Sirius to settle the thermometer in your ear. “It doesn’t seem to be waiting on you, does it?” 

“Guess not,” you mutter. Sirius strokes your jaw with his thumb. 

When the thermometer goes off, both he and James lean in to see, but Remus forsakes them, bringing it up near his face where he can read it. He hums. 

“What is it?” James asks. 

“Thirty nine point five.” 

They all frown. Sirius touches your forehead again, just to be sure. Unfortunately, it seems accurate. 

“What are your symptoms, sweetheart?” Remus asks you, settling on the floor beside Sirius with his knees bent in front of him. “Does anything hurt?” 

“I feel sick—like nauseous, and sort of achey.” A little notch appears between your brows, and Sirius had the impression that you’re finally letting yourself acknowledge your own misery. His gut twists with sympathy. “My stomach is starting to hurt, but I’m not sure if that’s just because I skipped lunch.” 

None of your boyfriends even have to say anything. You look abashed enough by their expressions. 

“I wasn’t feeling well,” you say in a small voice. 

James breaks easily, taking your hand and bringing it to his mouth for a firm kiss. “Can’t believe you went all day feeling this poorly and didn’t say anything,” he chides lovingly. “What did you think was going to happen, hm?” 

“I know, I’m sorry.” Your gaze flitters about the room, landing on Sirius’ eyes for a fraction of a second before it’s dropping shyly to the couch cushion. “It was dumb.” 

“So long as you know,” Remus agrees with a brief eye-roll. “It sounds like the stomach flu, so at least it should be better in a couple of days, but there’s not much to do other than rest.” 

Your face pinches unhappily. “I’m sorry for messing up your big night too,” you say, and you look like you’d curl up in misery if James weren’t currently using your legs as a blanket. Sirius’ heart gives a little throb. 

“Don’t be,” James says. “We’re still with you, aren’t we? And if we get sick, too, that’s just more days off!”

It’s clearly a joke, but you look extra guilty anyways. Your features tighten in a slight wince. Sirius works a hand between your face and the couch cushion, leaning forward to kiss the space between your brows. 

“Don’t worry about it, darling,” he says. “Better when we can be with you than when we’re busy helping some other poor sap, yeah?”

#emt!marauders #emt!marauders x reader #marauders au #poly!marauders #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x fem!reader #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders x y/n #poly!marauders x self insert #poly!marauders fanfiction #poly!marauders fanfic #poly!marauders fic #poly!marauders hurt/comfort #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders scenario #poly!marauders drabble #poly!marauders blurb #poly!marauders oneshot #poly!marauders one shot #james potter #james potter x reader #sirius black #sirius black x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #hp marauders

[reidmotif]

Always Bet on Black

Summary: Reader realizes she has an advantage at the Bureau's Casino Night, when Spencer can't seem to take his eyes off her and her dress.

Prompt: The BAU throws a casino night charity fundraiser. Spencer is a menace. Someone has to find a way to distract him.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: drinking, gambling (i have never gambled in my life nor have i played poker or blackjack. this will be super apparent in this fic. many apologies), nipple play, oral sex (f!receiving) hickies, Reader POV, unprotected penetrative sex

Word Count: 3.7k

Masterlist

“And that’s another win to the gentleman on my right!”  The dealer announces for what feels like the millionth time that night. There's a shit-eating grin on Spencer Reid’s face as he leans over the blackjack table, wrapping his arms around the hearty stack of chips in an almost in an exaggerated manner, pulling it back towards him much to everyone’s dismay. 

My dismay, especially, because while- yes, this is for charity, and what Spencer’s doing could be characterized as noble in some roundabout way, it was getting a bit repetitive. Spencer was so focused, a thousand times more than anyone else at that table, his brain working a million miles a minute to provide him with the best course of action when it came to gambling.  

And so far? It worked perfectly. While everyone else was taking their chances and betting away, praying that the odds would line up in their favor, Spencer Reid did fucking math, and suddenly the odds were his bitch.  I was beginning to understand why every casino in Las Vegas had him banned now. If he was giving the BAU Casino Night a run for their money like this, I can’t imagine the Bellagio being too pleased with having him either. 

I sighed at the thought, and it seemed Spencer picked up on it, the corners of his lips turning upwards, trying to feign a chagrin expression as he stacked his chips on top of the other. 

“Something wrong, (Y/N)?” He says, looking at me. “Are you not enjoying yourself?” 

Spencer Reid is usually nice, humble, and sweet. In all honesty, I should not be feeling this hostile and sore at the fact that he’d managed to beat me almost every single time we’d played blackjack. My embarrassment was only heightened when I thought of how I’d (stupidly) bragged beforehand that I’d never lost a game in college. 

How quickly my streak was destroyed. 

My pride was bruised, and the man in front of me knew it. 

“I’m enjoying myself just fine.” I say, trying not to grit my teeth as I say the words. 

“You look a bit hot.” He says, referring to my face that had gotten slightly red after the most recent loss I’d taken. “Would you like me to get you a drink?” He asks, his gaze turning less cocky, and more sweet and polite. 

I melt a bit. “Okay. No need to be a sore loser.” I think to myself. “This is a sweet man, and he’s offering you a drink. Yes, he’s destroying you right now and knows it, but it’s not like he’s acting like a complete dick about it.”

I nod at his words, sending a small smile his way. 

“A drink would be great actually.” I finally respond, and he gets up, pushing his chair in. 

“I’ll be right back.” He says, turning away from me, and sauntering towards the bar.

 I take a second to admire him as he walks away, the suit and tie ensemble he picked out for the night complimenting him so well. I’d never say it out loud, considering we were coworkers, but something about seeing him so dapper, so much more.. mature brought out a warm feeling in my stomach, one that made me shift in my seat as I tried to rid myself of thoughts of grabbing him by his tie, placing a hand on his perfectly sculpted jawline, pulling him against me and- no! 

He. Is. Your. Colleague. Snap out of it! 

In lieu of my wandering thoughts, I’d realized I had actually heated up quite a few degrees and in an attempt to combat the sudden body heat, I shrugged off the shawl I’d been donning for most of the night. I felt the cool air hit my exposed shoulders and chest, and relaxed a bit, starting to feel my temperature lower. Right as I did so,  Spencer returned to his seat, holding two drinks. 

I turn towards him, still seated. He’s sitting in his seat, facing towards me as well, and I instinctively reach over to grab the drink in his hand, expecting him to meet me halfway and transfer the cup to me.  But instead of the expected interaction, he seems a bit dazed, an intense expression on his face as he bored his eyes into me, studying me almost. It’s an expression that causes me to raise my eyebrows at him. 

“Spencer?” I say. “Hello?” I wave my hand a bit, trying to break him from his trance. “The drinks?” I add, and that’s what seems to break him out of his preoccupied stupor. He blinks a bit before shaking his head.

“Sorry. Sorry. I spaced out there for a moment.” He says, hastily handing me my glass and turning away completely from me, taking a sip out of his. I can notice a small tremor in his hand as he sets down the liquid on the table, and I’m a bit concerned. He was just fine a moment ago. Did someone say something whilst he was at the bar? Did he choose to ponder some life-changing information as he took his seat at the table? Was he losing it for no reason at all? 

Regardless of what it was, I didn’t have the time to contemplate it further or question him about it because the dealer was beginning to shuffle the deck of cards again. 

As the next game started, there was something fundamentally different about Spencer. He looked  almost panicked, even going as far as to loosen his tie as he played. I thought I’d maybe imagined the changes, until finally, I got a real indicator that something was off. For the first time that whole night- he lost. 

My mouth was agape as the dealer announced the house win, and as I looked between him and the table, he didn’t seem all that fazed, simply shrugging as he attempted to get up. Before he could slip away, I grabbed his arm and brought him a bit closer to me, so that I could speak to him over the sounds of the bustling party around us.

“Spencer- wait. Is something wrong?” I ask, the genuine concern in my tone apparent to anyone who might’ve walked by. 

“Yeah, no. Um. Why wouldn’t it be?” He says, his eyes everywhere except me. It was almost comical. The ceiling tiles couldn’t be that interesting. 

I grip his arm a little harder, urging him to look at me, to talk to me. “You lost! That hasn’t happened all night! Was someone- did something happen? Are you feeling okay?” I ask, my eyes trying to meet his. 

He gulps, finally looking at me. “Statistically, card counting can’t actually work every time so I was bound to lose at some point right?” He says, a little shakily, and despite his words making logical sense, the notion that something was wrong didn’t leave me. 

“You promise?” I say, looking at him as intensely as I possibly could to ensure he wouldn’t try to evade giving me an honest answer. 

He gives his signature, flat smile, nodding. “I’ll be fine. Look. I’m gonna go play some other games. Maybe rack up my luck somewhere else.” 

I lick my lips and finally let go of his arm, nodding. “Have fun.” I say, and he gives me a little wave. 

“You too.” 

For the next hour or so, I found myself dabbling at the other assortment of games offered by the Bureau that night, until yet again, my path crossed with Spencer, who seemed to be on a pretty hefty winning streak- if the stack of chips he’d accumulated wasn’t a clear sign of that already. 

I stood by the table, slightly out of his view,  a little amazed by the way his eyes followed the deck and everyone’s movements so precisely. The level of focus required to do what he was was absolutely no joke, and I couldn’t help but admire in silent awe at the exactness of the whole process. It only made him that much more attractive in that moment, if that was even possible. 

“Royal flush.” He announces, fanning his cards as everyone at the table groans. It’s only then when his gaze meets mine, watching him, and I can observe the signs of a tell-tale blush creeping up his neck. Odd.

“(Y/N)! Hello.” He says, quickly. “Still liking the party?” 

“I am, thank you.” I say, my eyebrows slightly furrowing at how oddly he’s behaving. “Mind if I join the next round?” I ask, already starting to take my seat. 

“Yeah, yeah. Of course.” He says, clearing his throat and turning his entire body away from me. Spencer and I usually got along just fine. There was nothing ever particularly sour about our relationship, and I’d like to think that in the time I’d spent at the Bureau, our shared experiences had brought us closer. However, the way he was acting as of right now, like we were strangers or mere acquaintances threw me off beyond belief. 

It was official, something was off.

I leaned over a little closer, trying to get him to look at me.

“Spencer, I know I’ve already asked but is anything-“ I start, and I can see him glance over, and then almost rapidly turn his gaze away.

“No! Nothing’s wrong. Let’s play.” He rushes out, his words teetering on almost being high pitched. 

It didn’t evade me however, in that short microsecond he took to look at me, his gaze dropped partially down. I internally followed his line of sight to realize that my breasts were practically spilling from my dress. I knew that it was a bit showy, but didn’t think much of it when I’d chosen to wear it for this occasion. The event was black-tie, and so I’d fished out a number I’d haphazardly bought during an online shopping spree. It was black and sparkly, but the main caveat of the dress was the gorgeous bodice in the front, managing to give a good show of cleavage whilst pushing up my breasts and making them all that more appealing to anyone who noticed.  I began to connect the events of the night, realizing that someone clearly had noticed.

Spencer’s losing streak had coincidentally begun once I’d lost the shawl that was once covering my chest. 

An idea slowly entered my head. An experiment, if you will. As we started another game, I barely paid attention as my fingers slid over to what looked like a glass of water on Spencer’s side. 

“Spence?” I murmur, tapping his shoulder.

“Mm?” He asks, not even taking a moment to look away from his cards. 

“Mind if I take a sip from your water?” I ask, keeping my voice saccharine and innocent.

I can see the look he shoots me, his eyes slightly narrowed in surprise but he quickly looks away. “Yeah, um. Sure. Go ahead.” He responds dismissively, as if talking to me for even a second longer would result in him breaking out in hives. 

 Totally out of character. For all the closeness in the world, Spencer Reid would never have shared a glass of water. 

As I began to sip the water, I did something that could be categorized as deeply stupid, but in the name of my experiment, it was absolutely necessary. I slightly tipped the glass, allowing the cool water to run down my neck and drip onto the swell of my breasts. I made a show of getting up, touching my chest to try and rid myself of the moisture that was now coating my breasts. 

“I’m so sorry, Spencer. I’ll get you another glass of water.” I say,letting my breasts bounce a bit as I stand up,  and when he looks at me, it’s more apparent than ever that his eyes aren’t gracing mine anytime soon. Not when I was like this. 

I grinned in secret as I turned around,  quickly bringing over a replacement glass to him, leaning over so that if he were to simply turn his head even slightly to his left, he’d get a direct look at what he simply couldn’t seem to take his eyes or mind off tonight. 

“Uh. Thanks.” He stammers again, shakily drinking the water as he miserably failed at not looking. Bingo. 

When the next round of our game commenced, he lost horrifically, as expected. His mind was in an entirely different dimension, and I couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride, knowing it was me who’d rendered him dumb. So unfocused. So unlike himself. It wasn’t until I felt a tap on my shoulder, noticing Spencer’s hand carrying out the action. 

“Walk with me.” He says, simply. His tone was so sharp and commanding, I found myself listening with no hesitation, following as we moved to a more secluded bit of the party. 

“What are you doing?” He asks in an accusatory tone, his voice a hushed whisper. 

“What do you mean?” I respond, a faux naivete in my words, which he only scoffed at. He leaned in closer, his brows furrowed. I could notice a small vein popping out from his forehead, and the sight only increased the ache I’d begun to feel in my panties since he’d directed me here. 

“You know what I mean.” He says, dangerously. “You’re flaunting yourself.” He adds, his jaw tight. “You know what it’s doing to me. You’re enjoying it.” I could tell he wanted to say so much more, the grit in his tone leading me to believe there were some much cruder words he wished to utter to me.

 Regardless, the authority in his tone only spurred me to try and resist. It was so hot watching him like this. Maybe a bit fucked up to say that, but it didn’t matter in that moment. I only wanted to test the limits. To see the new man I could bring out in Spencer Reid tonight. 

“So what if I am?” I say, biting my lip. “It’s a party, Spencer. We’re all having fun, aren’t we?” 

“No.” He responds, darkly. “I’m not having fun.” 

A proposal came to mind. One I knew that would pan out deliciously, since I’d now gotten a look into his extensive lust tonight, and just how desperate he seemed. I leaned forward to whisper to him, my lips teasing the outer shell of his ear. 

“Win another game, and I’ll show you just how much fun you could be having.”

He immediately pulls back. His eyes narrow, and I can see the weight of my words course through his mind, evaluating the odds of my statement before clicking his tongue. 

“See you in 30 minutes.” is his response, as he walks away, beckoning me to follow him to yet another Blackjack table. I grin, sitting beside him. 

My presence doesn’t seem to phase Spencer whatsoever this time around, his laser-point focus uninterrupted even as I stared shamelessly at him. It wasn't until the game seemed to be reaching its turning point, in which Spencer had to decide whether drawing or staying would bring forth a better outcome for him. I watched as he mulled over the decision for a few seconds before his eyes locked onto mine, gaze intense. 

“Draw.” He voices, not even paying mind as the dealer announced his win. 

Spencer gets up without a word, and I can see him head towards a hallway that houses a few restrooms in the building. 

“Sir- your winnings!” The dealer calls out, but I smile apologetically, starting to follow Spencer to a more secluded area of the party.

“Sorry. He’s probably a bit preoccupied. I’ll let him know!” I respond, already turning around and making my way to the same hallway Spencer had gone down, finding the bathroom and opening it. I knew Spencer would be there, but what I didn’t expect was to be pulled into his arms, greeted by Spencer’s lips insistently pressing against mine, his free hand clutching the back of my head, as his other hand went to click the lock into place. I responded with a momentary bout of shock, but quickly found myself melting into his touch, wrapping my arms around his neck. 

“You like watching me lose, is that it?” He whispers harshly, in between kisses. I can feel the anger, the lust and passion, all rolling into one as his lips meet mine, over and over again, creating the sweetest of sensations that wracked my whole body. 

“Mm. Not just you losing. You losing because you’re distracted. Because of me.” I say, my tone a bit dazed and breathy from the intensity he was putting me through. 

“Can you blame me?” He murmurs, his lips now trailing down my neck, paying close mind to a particular spot on the side that left my knees weak. “You wear this dress and expect me to not take my eyes off of you?” 

His hot breath grazes over my skin and I can feel myself shiver. I’m completely overwhelmed by him. The feel of his hands caressing the small of my back and waist, his smell of his cologne wafting around me. I can only breathe unsteadily, and hold onto him, a needy whimper slipping past my lips. 

“Shh. You’re okay. I got you.” He murmurs. His tone was sweet, soothing, but his actions were anything but, as his fingers slipped around to find the zipper on my dress. 

In an instant, his mouth was finally all over my breasts, his mouth leaving a few marks on the expanse of my chest before his tongue began to sweep over my nipples, swirling around the raised bud, leaving me grappling to his shoulders, as more moans poured out from within me. 

“You like that?” He breathes against my skin, and I nod, frantically. I’d never expected to go this weak, but he was so much more skilled with his mouth than I’d ever expected.

“Please. Keep going.” I moan, and I can feel his hands on my thighs, urging me into his arms. I comply, and can feel myself be lifted to the bathroom counter, his hands squeezing the fat of my hips before dropping to his knees. His fingers looped around my underwear, and I attempted to move in a way that would aid him in their removal. As soon as they were off, he stuffed them into his pocket, and moved to lift my dress up, his face disappearing into my now spread legs. 

And suddenly he was everywhere, tongue swiping over my clit in rapid motions, flicking against me in a way that had me immediately squeezing my thighs around his face, to which Spencer responded by pushing them apart, leaving me shaking. 

“Oh god, Spencer. Oh-” I moan, over and over again, my hand gripping onto the strands of his hair. My eyes squeeze shut as I feel my orgasm rapidly approaching, my legs trembling more than ever. 

“Spencer- I’m gonna-” I groan out, my grip tightening, and I look down, watching him devour me with so much precision and focus, the same I’d seen during his playing all night. I watched as his eyes met mine, his lips sucking around my clit and in a fit of moans, I found myself releasing all over his tongue, my body shuddering as he worked me through my orgasm, moaning against my core. 

He rose from his knees and planted a long, deep kiss on my lips, and I moaned as I tasted myself on him. My hands started to go for his belt, desperate to feel this man inside me. As soon as his cock was freed from the confines of his briefs, I guided him towards my entrance, gasping as I felt him push into me, immediately filling me up. I breathed in sharply from the pleasure of the sensation, my eyes screwing shut before opening them to see his eyes staring back at me. He gave me a moment to adjust, watching my face for any sign of discomfort, but there was none, only the carnal desperation I felt for this man. I nodded to let him know I was ready,  and suddenly, like a man possessed, he began to jut his hips towards mine, causing me to whimper and dig my nails into his back. 

He moaned as he slammed into me, over and over again, while his mouth kissed at my neck, at my jaw, my lips, murmuring my praises over and over again. 

“I’ve wanted this for so long.” He groans, my hips firmly gripped by his large hands, keeping me from slipping off the counter. “And that dress. Fuck. God, I want you.” 

I nod, too overwhelmed with pleasure to even speak, rather opting to moan his name and nod furiously. 

He kept one hand on my hip, while the other trailed down to where we were joined, and began to rub fast, hard circles over my already sensitive bud, the action causing me to gasp out and open my eyes, letting him know that my second release of the night was inevitable. 

“You wanna cum, pretty girl?” He mumbles, keeping his voice low and his fingers diligent on my clit. 

“Please,” I sob out, my voice breaking with just how much I needed this right now. How much I needed him. 

“Come for me.” He murmurs, and as if under a spell, I do, coming undone rapidly in his grasp, my head falling against his shoulder as he continues the movement of his hips until I feel him still, and then spill into me, his breath heavy and chest heaving. 

I pull back, my forehead meeting his as he stares at me in a bit of a trance, our breaths mingling as we both came down from what had just happened. 

“I think.. you should probably cover up.. after that.” He murmurs, grinning a bit at the wide array of marks he’d just left on my neck and chest, undeniably exposing us. 

“Right you are.” I giggle back, leaning in for another kiss.  This time sweeter, softer.

I was definitely wearing this dress again for him.

  hello!! oh my god!! it has been so long since i've posted a fic. finals are over! i am free! i promise we will be back to a more normal schedule now (can i do weekly fics? who knows. i'll try). as usual, thank you for any and all reblogs, likes and comments. it's been a long time since i've even thought about writing, so i hope this is up to everyone's standards. this was written for @imagining-in-the-margins office party challenge. so, you know. look at the other fics there too! sorry for clearly not knowing anything about card games. also also, just a fun fact. i envisioned readers dress being meredith grey's prom dress from s2ep27.. hehe. okay, i've already talked enough. thank you thank you thank you for reading and supporting!!!

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds self insert #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader

[freedomfireflies]

Reckless*

Summary: The third part to Knockout*

The one where Harry secretly gets paid to fight, but you're the one paying the price.

Word Count: 9.2k (...no comment)

Content Warning: 18+, violence, mentions of an abusive ex, mentions of blood, smut

Harry’s fist instantly snaps closed around your hand, subtly but pointedly tugging you back. Seeming to want to put a bit of space between you and the man standing before you.

“Oh, do you…know each other?” you ask slowly, glancing between the two rather curiously.

Jesse offers nothing more than a raise of his eyebrow, redirecting his attention back to Harry as though encouraging him to respond.

Harry merely grits his teeth. “We used to. Long time ago.”

It’s hardly an answer, somehow just as frustratingly vague as you expected, yet you nod, nevertheless. “Ah. I see.”

Jesse’s smile somehow stretches a bit bigger. “Are you working today?”

“Uh, no. Just…came by for the keys,” you answer, shifting your weight from one foot to the other almost nervously. “Why?”

He shrugs. “Thought I’d…maybe stick around a bit? Catch up?”

Harry’s grip gets stronger.

“Besides, today’s pie is apple, yeah?” he asks. “You know it’s my favorite.”

You force a tight-lipped grin and a hum of acknowledgement before the three of you fall silent. Continuing to stand by the door to the diner as the rest of the room continues on with their lunch. Their soft murmurs and clinging cutlery like white noise in the background of the conversation. 

You clear your throat. “Okay, well…I’m gonna…I’m gonna tell him goodbye, and—”

“Oh, sure, no problem,” Jesse says, waving you away before returning to the counter. “Yeah, go ahead. I’ll be right here.”

The last word has hardly left his mouth when Harry suddenly spins on his heel and drags you back through the door. Pulling you into the parking lot without so much as a goodbye before leading you around the side of the building.

“Harry,” you murmur hesitantly, almost cautious of his rather silent reaction. In the little time you’ve known him, you’ve never known him to be this quiet when he’s upset. Or this well behaved. “What’s wrong, what is it?”

He continues his furious stride until he’s brought you both into the alley. Releasing you in order to run a hand through his hair with a strained, “Fuck.”

You slow to a stop and stare at his tensed back. “Harry?”

A long pause. Deafening and loud enough to lodge your heart in your throat.

Finally, “How do you know him?”

“What?”

“Fucking Jesse, how do you know him?” he repeats, somewhat viciously.

Your head tilts. “We…I mean we’re friends, but we…we used to date. For a while. Couple years ago. Why?”

He turns, and the pinching of his features together makes your stomach twist. “Was it him?”

“…Harry—”

“Was it…him?” His eyes flick to yours. “The one you fucking told me about. The one who treated you like shit, the one who fucking threw things at you. Was it him?”

You’re almost surprised he remembered. After all, the revelation of your last relationship had been quite a while ago. An off-handed comment made one stormy night as you sat together in his favorite booth, talking about the past and exchanging odd traumas.

But he does. He remembers. And he’s looking at you like your answer is going to break his heart. 

You suck in a quiet breath and hold it deep within your chest. “Yes.”

Your voice is small. Timid and weak, nearly carried away with the wind. But it reaches him, nevertheless, and his expression guts you.

He steps back. Trying to get away, either from you or your admission. The truth he can no longer stand to be so close to.

“Why?” he whispers, and your lashes flutter. “Why did you…why would you keep him in your fucking life after he…”

You offer him the same answer you’ve offered everyone else. “I don’t know.”

He runs his tongue over his bottom lip and takes another step. Glancing over your face as if searching for more than you have to give. “Cherry…”

“I know.” You can feel the tears already working their way to your waterline. “I know, but he’s…he’s trying to do better. He’s trying to change—”

“Oh, that’s fucking bullshit,” he scoffs, hands shoving into his pockets almost vengefully. “No, that’s bullshit. He’s not…guys like him don’t change. They just get better at hiding it.”

Maybe he’s right. But it stings to hear. “I…yeah. I know. But we’re just…we’re friends. We don’t talk a lot, just when he needs help.”

“So he uses you?”

“No, he…” You hesitate. “I don’t know. I don’t think he means to—”

His vile scoff cuts through the rest of your excuse, and perhaps it’s for the better.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, fingers itching to reach for him. You feel naked without his body against yours. “I should have…I should have warned you. Or told you, I just…I didn’t think—”

“Are you safe?”

You stop. “What?”

“Are you safe?” he repeats, a tad softer. “When he’s around you, do you feel safe? Do you know that you’re safe, and that he won’t…that you can leave? If you need to?”

 You consider this for only a moment before nodding once. “Yes. He’s never…it’s never been like that. He’s just…he gets very angry. And sad. And I think…a part of me wants to help, I guess.”

His expression drops ever-so-slightly, as if wounded. “I know, Cher.” He moves closer to you once again, and you feel like you can finally breathe. He places his palm against your cheek and brushes his thumb beneath your eye. Wiping away the first tear. “You always give your kindness to those who don’t deserve it.”

 You take hold of his wrist and bite back a sigh. “Everybody deserves kindness.”

“Maybe.” His voice is quiet. Labored and thick. “But maybe you deserve it more.”

There’s something…heavy in the way he speaks. In the way he feels. As though he’s carrying the entire weight of his world – and yours – on his shoulders. 

You know there’s more to the story. More to this anger that’s so prominent in his heart and more to his background with Jesse. You want to ask, want to understand.

But if he wanted you to know, he would have offered.

Maybe he thinks he’s sparing you. Maybe he thinks he’s protecting you in the only way he can, and you feel grateful for him. Grateful for this subtle, unspoken act of intimacy and protection that you’ve become so familiar with in the time you’ve known your handsome stranger.

You choose to have faith in him. In what brought you to him.

“I have to go,” he says now, dipping down to brush his forehead to yours. “Cause if I don’t, I’ll fucking kill him.”

You smile to yourself, but a part of you knows he means it. “Okay. Will I see you again?”

His other hand slips around the back of your neck, keeping you close before he exhales a shaky breath and brings his lips to yours. Kissing you hard and with a thousand unspoken promises. “Of course. M’never gonna leave you, sweet girl. Swear it.”

And it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard.

You kiss him until you can’t breathe, clinging to his hoodie as if begging with him to stay. To keep himself close to you.

And when he eventually pulls away, you nearly crumple to the ground.

“Okay,” he whispers, reaching back to slip his hood on. “Okay, I gotta go. Or I’ll never leave.”

You touch your fingers to your lips and nod once. “I know. Just come back, okay?”

He grins, and it’s wickedly delicious. “Always.”

With that, he turns around, and disappears down the alley. Rounding the corner of the building before disappearing from sight.

Leaving you exactly where he found you, only a few hours ago.

With a heavy heart and weary mind, you make your back into the diner and toward the man still waiting for you.

Jesse has never scared you. Annoyed you, but never scared you. He’s been in your life far longer than you care to admit, ever since you were just kids. And maybe that’s why you keep him around. Because a part of you believes you owe it to the people you used to be.

You loved him. You really did. He was cute, charming, witty. He made you smile, made you laugh. He listened when you talked, said all of the right things. Of course you wanted to believe him when he said he’d do anything to make it work.

His anger had taken him away from you. Had changed who he was. Or perhaps merely highlighted who he’d always been.

He was the one to end things. Claiming he could never offer you the life you deserved. That until he had his temper under control, he couldn’t be with you. You had agreed to remain friends and help him when he lost his way.

He seems to lose his way a lot these days.

And maybe that’s the part that scares you…just a little bit.

“Hey, sugarplum,” he calls once you enter, grinning brighter than he has in weeks. “You all right?”

You nod as you join him near the counter, hands disappearing into your pockets as if to hide. “Mhm. Are you?”

“Absolutely.” He leans over to nudge his elbow against yours. “Feel like it’s been forever.”

“Jess, I saw you last week,” you can’t help but laugh.

“I know, but that was last week,” he argues coyly. “Which is like a lifetime ago.”

And even if there’s a part of you that feels cautious of him, there’s also something so familiar about his company. The sound of his voice, the way he laughs. His effortless ability to remind you of the way things used to be.

Despite how it ended, you can’t help but feel calmed. Your muscles unwinding as you grow a bit more comfortable in his presence.

“Ha, very funny,” you tease, stepping closer as though drawn in by his charm. “Well, if you’re waiting for the apple pie, that’s not until tomorrow.”

“Then I guess I’ll just have to come back.”

The conversation lulls as the two of you smirk at each other, and for the first time in days, you don’t feel so on edge.

 “Fine,” you agree. “But you can’t come back to the kitchen with me. Not after last time.”

He pretends to pout, but it only makes you smile. “Oh, come on. Everything was going so well up until the flour incident.”

You reach out and shove his shoulder playfully, and he laughs. “All right, enough. Why are you really here?”

“I told you, I wanna catch up. Clearly I’ve missed a lot.”

The mention of Harry is like a sharp needle to your blissful bubble, popping you free of his spell until you come crashing back to earth. “Right. How, um…how again do you guys know each other?”

“Oh, we don’t. Not really,” Jesse explains, shrugging one shoulder up almost casually. “We used to go to the same gym. Spot each other now and then. But we never really knew each other, I guess.”

“Ah.” 

“Was kind of surprised to see him with you, though,” he adds. “But good surprised. I told him he should come check out the diner, and I’m glad to see he listened."

Harry’s previous mention of how he found you suddenly clicks, and you nod, eyes drifting toward the floor. “Yeah, he…he seems to like it here.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“Good.” He seems oddly thrilled by this. “And I guess you two are…?”

The implication brings a rush of heat to your cheeks, and you quickly shake your head as you step back. Almost as though guarding yourself from his question. “Oh, no, we’re…we’re just friends. Or we’re…yeah. Friends.”

His brows furrow but he’s smiling. “Are you…sure about that?”

No. “Yeah. We don’t…we don’t really know each other that well, is all. We just…we like to talk.”

“I see.” He studies you for a moment, somewhat curious. “I’m glad he found something here he likes so well.”

The heat in your face begins to burn. “Yeah, he…he really likes the pies.”

Jesse hums, expression mischievous. “Yes. The pies.”

You force a laugh and nudge him again. “Okay, enough. I should…I should probably get back—”

“Wait,” he interrupts, slipping off the stool in order to get closer, “is there…any chance you’d fancy a drive? Thought we could go around the block a few times like we used to. Just…listen to the radio and people watch.”

Truth be told, the offer is compelling. Because you know if you go home, all you’ll do is worry. About Harry, about Jesse. About all the things you wish you could do for them but can’t. 

Maybe a distraction is what you need. One day where you aren’t expected to fix everybody else’s problems but your own.

So, you nod. Tentatively but with a small grin that makes Jesse’s entire expression light up. 

“Great,” he chuckles before nodding his chin at you. “So…do you want me to drive? Like old times?”

Your answer is to dig back into your pocket for the keys before tossing them over. “Think you already know the answer to that.”

He laughs again and spins the ring around his finger. “Then let’s hit it, sugarplum.”

It’s almost too easy to settle back into your old habits. To follow him to your car, hop inside the passenger seat, and allow him to take you away.

And it’s nice. Comfortable and…safe. Windows down, music loud. The two of you singing along with every bad song that comes on. It really does feel like it used to, and for just one evening, you forget about everything else. And you let yourself just…be.

The two of you drive around the city until the sun goes down. He tells you about his new job at this fancy law firm and you tell him about this new recipe you’re working on for the diner. You talk, and you laugh, and you sing until your stomach hurts. 

You forget. And you’re okay with that.

“Okay,” he finally declares not much later after a quick glance at the clock. “I know you have to get back, but I just have one last thing I want to show you.”

Your brow raises. “Oh? What?”

“A surprise.” He begins to grin, almost wickedly, and it makes you smirk. “It’ll just be a quick little detour, and then I’ll have you home. Promise.”

You consider this for only a moment before sighing. “Fine. But just for the record, I hate your surprises.”

He merely winks before taking a left and leading you both out of town.

The further you go, the darker it gets. This part of the city appears to be rather neglected, with very few lights along the street to guide you. The buildings are rundown and abandoned, there’s police tape over half the doors and boards across half the windows. 

Sketchy would be putting it mildly.

Yet Jesse appears undeterred, swinging into one of the large, unkempt parking lots where a collection of cars are already gathered.

“I don’t…understand,” you begin slowly, glancing around the dark space in search of answers. 

However, instead of answer, he merely puts the car in park, tosses you the keys, and hops out. “You’ll see. Come on.”

Despite your hesitancy, you choose to follow, trailing after him as he begins toward one of the shabby buildings just up ahead. 

There’s a strange sort of itch crawling its way up the back of your neck. Blossoming into your cheeks until you feel a twinge of apprehension.  

But Jesse walks ahead as though he hasn’t a care in the world. Nonchalant and relaxed, leading you to the door.

Then, he knocks twice, stops, and adds three more.

A beat passes before there’s a sharp, electric buzzing. Immediately followed by the sound of something rather heavy before the door suddenly swings open.

Your breath catches.

The inside of this disheveled building is divine. Luxury drips from floor to ceiling, a rather stark contrast to its exterior. There’s fresh paint on the walls, towers of champagne in each corner of the room, and a crowd of men and women dressed to the nines in their most elegant and expensive outfits.

But there’s something off. They’re yelling, and cursing, and cheering. Raising their glasses while shouting at something happening in the middle of the room. 

And that’s when you see him.

Even from this distance, you’d recognize him anywhere. The soft, sweaty curls matted to his forehead. The blood that drips from his mouth and jaw. The tattoos and marks that glisten from his chest – the same tattoos that you saw for the first time only hours ago.

Your stranger. Landing hit after hit to the man standing just opposite him inside the large ring. 

You don’t move. You don’t think you can breathe. You can’t think straight or understand…and then Jesse throws his arm around your shoulder.

“Let’s go have a look, yeah?” It’s posed like a question, but he’s already leading you toward the crowd before you can decide on your answer.

Your heart is in your toes as he slips through the collection of onlookers. Pulling you to the front until you have a near perfect view of the violence happening only a few feet away.

A perfect view of him.

You’re not sure how long he’s been at it. Clearly long enough, if the new cuts and fresh bruises are any indication. He doesn’t seem to notice you, instead throwing his arm toward his opponent before ducking down to miss the strike back. 

You hear yourself gasp as you recoil away from the forceful blow, nearly hiding yourself beneath Jesse’s arm while he laughs.

“What’s the matter, sugarplum?” he hums. “Thought you’d wanna see what your little boytoy gets up to when he’s not with you.”

You can hear it now. The vindictive sneer hidden beneath his charming chuckle. And that uncomfortable itch begins to burn as you pull yourself back in order to see him. “What?”

Jesse nods toward the boxing ring. “You see, when he’s not with you…he’s quite busy. Beautifully and spectacularly fucking me over.”

You feel the blood drain from your face. “What…what are you talking about?”

“Do you know what this is?” He raises a brow. “Do you know what he really does?”

“He…he fights. He gets paid to fight.”

“Right. And who do you think pays him?”

And that’s when it happens. That’s when the final puzzle piece clicks into place, and you understand. You see the whole picture laid out in front of you, and it wears his face.

“You.” It’s a strained, timid whisper that’s buried beneath the loud, vulgar hollering.

Jesse nods. “Exactly. I pay your boyfriend to beat the shit out of anyone dumb enough to get into that ring with him. And all he has to do…is fucking win.”

The cheering grows louder in your ear as he steps closer. Forcing your attention to split between the two men.

“But I have a problem,” he continues. “You see, Harry can win a fight in his goddamn sleep. He never loses. Ever. That’s why I pay him so much fucking money. That’s why I’m his sponsor.”

Your stomach twists.

“So, imagine my surprise when he suddenly started to lose. Night after night. Over and over. Constantly and consistently losing fights he should have been able to win with his fucking eyes closed.”

There’s something trapped in your throat. The room is spinning, and there’s a ringing in your ear that just won’t quit. 

“And then I find out…he’s fucking throwing them.” His hand finds your hip and he turns you toward the ring. “Every goddamn night, he throws the fight. Because, for some reason, he seems to think that these fights are up to him. He thinks that he gets to decide who wins and who loses.”

He leans down now, lips hovering near your ear while his voice settles into a rather malicious hiss. 

“But the only person that really loses…is me,” he sneers. “Because if he doesn’t win, then I lose a shit ton of money on him. And I don’t really think that’s fair…do you?”

You suck in a quiet breath right as Harry steps back to avoid a massive swing before landing his own blow just beneath the man’s jaw. 

“So, I wondered. Wondered why the switch. Why he’d suddenly be willing to lose so much money and allow his ass to get kicked into his throat…for nothing.”

He leans back now, and your lashes flutter.

“And then I found him…with you.” He tsks almost teasingly while his head cocks to the side. “Seems my best fighter has found himself distracted. Pussy-whipped by a pretty face that serves him fucking pie. And he thinks that if he throws the fights…he can save you.”

A set of knuckles connect with Harry’s left cheek, sending him stumbling back while you suck in a sharp inhale and turn away.

“So…I want you to watch,” Jesse tells you, snaking an arm around your waist in order to keep you in your spot. “I want you to fucking see what you’ve done to him.”

Your features twist into a fearful grimace as you drag your eyes back to the ring. Watching as Harry swipes the back of his hand across his mouth to clear the blood before surging forward. He swings and it’s a miss. Arm flying over the other man’s shoulder before he’s shoved toward the rope.

He’s losing. A few more strikes to the face and you’re almost sure he’ll pass out.

And you don’t understand. Can’t comprehend any of this. Why Jesse brought you here, why Harry does this to himself, and why you’re somehow a part of it.

They lied. They both did. Harry looked you in the eye and told you he didn’t know Jesse. Even when he knew about…all of this.

Jesse being involved in some sort of illegal fight club doesn’t surprise you. Perhaps it should, and yet, it might be the least surprising thing you’ve learned so far. 

But Jesse being Harry’s sponsor…being the one who pays him to do this to himself, who gambles on Harry’s very life…

Another strike is laid to his jaw, forcing Harry’s head to snap to the side.

And he sees you.

You watch the realization pass over his face in real time. The way his eyes widen and his lips part.

He stumbles back from the blow, catching himself on the ropes before Jesse tightens his hold on your hips…and Harry looks over.

The rage that settles into the lines and details of his features is evident. The way his teeth grit together, the way the veins in his neck strain against his skin, the way his fingers flex by his side.

He must understand why you’re here now and he channels this understanding and rage into his next hit.

He spins to the side, flings his arms around his opponent’s waist, and yanks him down.  Throwing him so hard to the floor, you’re almost surprised he doesn’t break his spine right down the middle.

Half of the crowd cheers while the other half yells in disappointment.

But Jesse merely smirks.

And you realize that this is what he wanted. To use you as a tool in his game. A pawn for his pleasure until Harry’s hand was forced.

Harry rears back only to raise his fist into the air. Over and over, he lands his knuckles to the man’s face. Hit after hit after hit until there’s blood everywhere. Dripping from his knuckles, the man’s nose, his mouth.

He doesn’t stop. Even long after he should, and the man has gone limp. He goes and goes and goes until the referee has to physically step into the ring and drag him back.

And the fight is declared over.

They grab Harry’s wrist and sling it into the air, raising his arm in victory while the room hollers their support. 

Your heart is racing inside your chest, going far too fast, and you feel a rush of blood to your head. Your knees are shaking, and your hands feel clammy, and you can’t breathe and why won’t that ringing in your ear stop?

“This is what he’s good at,” Jesse murmurs to you now, lips ghosting down the shell of your ear. “This is all he’s good for. And he fucking knows it.”

The room begins to disperse while Harry is led out of the ring and into the shadows on the far side of the building. 

Your eyes and your heart go with him.

“So, you’re gonna do what you do best,” Jesse continues. “You’re gonna remind him why he has to fucking win. Because if he throws one more goddamn fight…I’ll fucking kill him myself.”

With that, he releases you, and turns around. Disappearing into the crowd before you can stop him.

You stand there, in the middle of this extravagant room, and you stare at the ring. And the blood stains on the mat. And the shadows that dance across the floor from the chandelier on the ceiling. The collection of empty glasses and empty promises that are scattered about the vast space.

Then, your feet are pulling you toward the door Harry disappeared into. Taking you to him, despite everything else. Because even after all of this, you want to help him. To make sure that he’s okay, and…and fix him. Somehow. 

The door leads to a hallway that leads to what you can only assume is a locker room. It’s empty when you arrive, although you aren’t too surprised. The other fighter was taken to the opposite end of the building, and the people who led Harry away don’t seem to be around.

You hesitate for only a moment, attempting to decipher if you truly feel safe being alone with him after everything you’ve seen in the past 24 hours.

But the answer is obvious.

So, with a deep breath, you brave a step inside. 

The shower is running. Steam already beginning to dance through the air as you pass by the collection of lockers and benches. Looking for any sign of him. Your stranger who perhaps isn’t so strange anymore.

You see his clothes tossed toward the floor. See a trail of scarlet streaks leading you further into the room and toward the showers just around the corner.

And you don’t hesitate now as you step past the wall in order to see him.

He’s standing beneath the stream of water, one hand braced against the wall as he stares down at the floor. Watching the blood disappear down the drain.

And he’s…beautiful. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him – all of him – and you feel your breath hitch as you step closer. Allowing your eyes to travel along his tall, tensed frame. From his curls to his thighs and everything in between.

“Harry?”

Your voice snaps his head up, and he turns. Instantly pushing off the wall in order to fully face you. 

“Cherry, you can’t be here,” he breathes, and it’s almost lost beneath the heavy stream of water. “Can’t be in here, it’s not safe—”

But you’re already moving closer, toeing off your shoes and tossing your jacket aside before stepping inside the showers. 

His lashes flutter, the muscles in his stomaching quivering as he leans back. “Cher, I mean it. You can’t…I can’t let you see me like this.”

You step up to him. Ignoring his protests and the water pouring from the ceiling, you step up, you put your arms around his shoulders…and you hold him.

At first, he goes still. Deathly still, almost bracing himself from your touch. Afraid of what it means.  

Then, he settles. Understands that you only want to help, and slumps into your embrace while his face buries into your neck.

You reach up and run your palm down his head. Carding your fingers through the wet curls before squeezing the back of his neck. “You’re okay.”

He takes in a sharp inhale, arms snaking around your middle. “You shouldn’t be here,” he says again. And his voice breaks like the cracks of a sidewalk.

You merely hold him tighter. “But I am.”

And there’s so much to say. So much to understand and question, but right now, he just needs you to hold him. To let him know that it’s okay – that he’s okay.

That you’re not going anywhere.

You stand there for what feels like hours. Until your clothes become soaked, and your fingers begin to prune. But you keep your grip on him tight. Offering nothing more than soft murmurs of, “It’s okay. We’re okay.”

He’s angry. So very angry, and you can feel it in the way his muscles twitch beneath your hands. Can hear it in the shallow breaths he takes and the clenching of his jaw. 

He’s trying to keep himself together. For you. But he’s moments away from slipping, and you can only hope you’ll be able to bring him back.

“Harry?” you whisper, scratching your nails down his bare shoulder.

His head shakes. “No. I don’t wanna fucking talk about it.”

“Har—”

“No.” He leans back, lip curled up into a snarl. “No, I can’t…I fucking can’t—”

“Okay, okay,” you interrupt, taking hold of his wrists to keep him close. “Okay, I understand—”

“You shouldn’t be here,” he says for the third time. “You aren’t supposed to be here, and I can’t fucking believe he brought you.”

“I know. I know, but I’m okay. It’s okay, I promise—”

“What did he say?” His eyes flick between yours. “What did he say to you?”

You feel your insides twist as you squeeze his hands. Taking a moment to find the right words. “He…he wanted me to see what you really do. And…to tell you that you have to win.”

His brows stitch together. “What else?”

“Nothing,” you lie. “Just…just that.”

And maybe he doesn’t believe you. Maybe he knows there was more to Jesse’s threat, but it doesn’t matter because he’s tugging himself out of your grasp and turning toward the wall before you can argue. Sending his knuckles straight into the tile until it cracks.

You gasp, quickly surging forward to pull on his arm in protest. “Harry—”

Surprisingly, he allows you to yank him away, but he doesn’t look at you. He keeps his venomous glare on the drain, chest heaving with uneven breaths.

But you aren’t deterred. Instead, you guide him back to you, and lift his hands. Studying the torn skin of his knuckles closely with a sigh. “Harry…”

The wounded waver in your voice makes his expression soften, and he allows his shoulders to roll back. Releasing a bit of his rage. “It’s okay. M’okay, Cher—”

“No,” you argue softly. “No, you’re…”

You can’t find the words. Can’t find the right thing to say that explains this anguish in your heart. That lives within your chest.

So, instead, you bring his ruined hands to your lips, and you hold them there. Kissing the stained, battered skin while he sucks in a quiet breath. 

And you don’t care. About any of it. About the fights, or the lies, or the threats. You don’t care what he really does or who he really is. 

You just want him to be happy. To be safe. No matter what that looks like. No matter what you have to do to make that a reality. 

You want to kiss away his scars, kiss away his pain. Take it and make it your own. Carry the weight he’s been trying to carry all by himself.

You don’t want him to be alone. You want to keep him, you want…

He watches you. Keeps his eyes glued to nearly every inch of your face as you do this. And something changes for him. You aren’t sure what.

But he sets his anger free before slipping his fingers from yours in order to take hold of your face.

And he kisses you. Pulls you to him almost desperately before pressing his lips to your own.

It’s soft, and sweet, and so deliciously him. Gentle despite everything else you’ve seen from him today.

He steps forward, subtly pushing you back. Again and again until your back meets the wet, tile wall.

He holds you there almost hesitantly before straightening up and deepening the kiss. Slipping his tongue in beside yours and savoring everything you have to offer. 

And you let him take whatever he’d like. Allow him to have all of you as his chest meets yours and he cages you there. Hungry kisses now moving for your neck.

His touch travels to your hips, nails curling into your shirt as though resisting the urge to grab hold. And you smile as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. Breath hitching at the way his thigh brushes against yours.

You drop one hand to his chest. Allow the tips of your fingers to dance along the swallows on his collarbone and toward the muscles in his abdomen. Careful to mind his stitching and new cuts.

And he seems to remember now that he’s completely bare to you, his mouth falling still against your wet skin as he steadies himself.

Quickly, you stop yourself from going any further, settling atop his stomach before nosing under his jaw. “You’re so beautiful, Harry.”

He says nothing, lips ghosting across your pulse point before pressing in deep. 

“All of you,” you whisper. “You’re beautiful.”

His lashes flutter shut while his arm loops around your back. Face burying in your shoulder as though to hide, and you wonder if he’s embarrassed or enthralled. 

Either way, you gingerly ask, “…may I touch you?”

There’s a quick pause before he nods. Only once, and then he returns to leaving an array of kisses to your throat. Nipping at the skin until you smile.

So, you continue your search, moving your hand toward his hips and down until you feel him.

And the moment your palm brushes against his cock, you both gasp. Straightening up almost attentively before settling back into the pleasure. 

Your thumb finds his slit and he curses. Hands tightening around the fabric of your shirt, keeping you against the tile as if he’s worried you’ll disappear.

“Shit,” he mumbles, palm moving to your cheek. “Baby, you know you don’t have—”

“Shh.” You wrap your fingers around the tip before smoothing down. “I want to. Please?”

When he says nothing, you stop, and it forces an instant groan. His body seeming to have made the decision for him.

“Yes,” he finally says, nodding again but quicker. “Shit, yes, Cherry. Can do whatever you want. M’yours.”

And it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard.

You chase after his pleasure as though your life depends on it. And perhaps it does, but you certainly don’t mind. Because his grunts and pants are deliciously addictive. And you could spend the rest of your life touching him if it meant you’d get to hear just one more.

And maybe now you understand why he’s also so determined to do the same for you.

You run your hand up and down his cock, squeezing the tip before moving lower. Palming at his balls before dragging your touch back to the top. 

He does his best not to rush you or overwhelm you. Resisting the urge to buck his hips closer in a desperate attempt for more.

Instead, he focuses his attention on you. A role he seems much more comfortable in.

He kisses you everywhere he can. Your lips, your cheeks, your jaw, your nose, your neck. Below your ear, along your collarbone, and down the dip in your shirt.

Then, his fingers slip down to your jeans. Absentmindedly fiddling with the button before he whispers, “Can I touch you, sweet girl? Wanna make you feel good, too.”

And who are you to deny him?

“Always,” you whisper back, releasing him for only a moment so he can wrangle the wet material down your legs. 

Once he has, he straightens up, and runs his palm along the inside of your thigh. Indulging in the feel of your skin while you take him back in your hold.

And it’s strangely beautiful, this dance you do. The synchronicity of teasing touches and playful strokes that leave you both breathless.

Anytime you gently tighten your fist around him, he curls his finger inside your walls. And anytime you brush at his slit, he brushes at your clit. 

You both share a smile when you realize, and Harry laughs before nuzzling his face back into your neck. Tugging your skin between his teeth to muffle his groan.

“You have no idea how badly I needed this,” he says. And it’s a faint thought, perhaps not meant for your ears. “Fucking need you, baby. Always.”

Your head drops back against the wall. Your body already growing sluggish under the weight of undeniable euphoria he inflicts.

“You always have me,” you tell him. “I’ll do whatever you want—”

“Shit.” He yanks your chest to his, mouth painting warm, wet kisses along your skin. “Don’t say that. Don’t, or I’ll never stop.”

You grin. “Maybe I don’t want you to stop.”

You go faster. Finding a pace he seems to enjoy and zeroing in. You want him to cum – need him to cum. To offer him that release and that promise of more. 

And it works. His tattoos rise and fall under the weight of his frantic gasps for air. He’s tipping over the edge, just needing a final push, and you want to get him there more than anything. Want to see what his face looks like when it’s overcome with pleasure. When he’s releasing into your hand, or your mouth, or your cunt. Want to feel him, know how his body moves when it’s spent.

“Please,” you murmur, almost anxiously as you work him closer. “Please, Har…let me feel you. Wanna feel you cum, please.”

He moves to squeeze the back of your neck before his hand disappears into your hair. Gently but pointedly tugging on your roots. “Baby—”

“It’s okay. It’s okay, you can cum. Can cum for me—”

“Fuck.” He jolts forward, fingers slipping from your cunt. “So good to me, sweet girl. So fucking good to me. Don’t deserve you. Never deserved you—”

“Yes,” you nearly whine. “Of course you do, Har, please—”

He cums with a soft groan that bleeds into your throat. Woven between his kisses and flicks of his tongue to your skin, and it’s everything. The warmth, the feel, the implication. It covers your hand, and wrist, and even parts of your thighs. 

And you watch it drip down toward the floor almost regretfully, but you’re mesmerized. Addicted to something you only just discovered, and desperate for more.

But he gives you no time to reminisce, instead moving his mouth to yours in order to show you exactly how much it meant to him.

  “Knew you’d be good,” he remarks playfully, nipping at your bottom lip before squeezing your waist. “Fucking knew, yeah?”

You release his cock as gently as you can before smoothing your palms up his chest and into his hair. Tugging on his curls in order to bring him closer. “Just for you.”

He smirks to himself before leaning back to study you. Glancing over your body as though in search of something. And the longer he looks, the angrier he appears to become.

Then, he mumbles, “He fucking touched you.”

Your heart wrenches. “…Har—”

“He touched you,” he says again, bitterly, and almost to himself. “He fucking put his hands on you and he made sure I saw. Wanted me to see, and now…now I can’t see anything else.”

You don’t think you’ve ever felt a panic like this. “Harry, please—”

He crouches down, large hands curling around your thighs and pulling them as far apart as they’ll go. Which, admittedly, isn’t very far because of the jeans still pooled around your ankles. But he doesn’t mind, instead staring at your legs rather thoughtfully.

Finally, he looks up.

“I need to wash him away,” he whispers, and your stomach leaps into your throat.

“What?”

“I need to wash him away,” he repeats softly, moving closer to ghost his lips along your hip. “Need to erase him. Need to clean him off you.”

Your fingers twitch by your side, and you aren’t even sure what to say. Because the look in his eye is unrelenting, and you can see how badly he wants this.

“Okay,” you exhale. “Okay, erase him. Make me yours again.”

And this is all he needs to hear, wasting no more time before smoothing his lips and his hands along your thighs and waist. Repainting every inch of you with his touch. Washing away the metaphorical marks Jesse left when he held you and replacing them with his own. 

Even if it’s not inherently sexual, it’s the most erotic and wonderful thing you’ve ever experienced. The way he feasts on your flesh like a man on a mission. Nipping and licking at you just to make you whimper. He’s nowhere near your clit and it doesn’t even matter because he’s so divine.

The heat of his mouth on your cool, wet skin. The way he gingerly kneads at your ass in an attempt to comfort you. Tenderly pulling you closer as though you’re somehow still too far away.

“I’m sorry, Cherry,” you hear him sigh, and it makes your insides tighten. “M’so fucking sorry for doing this to you. For bringing you into this.”

Your expression drops while your head shakes. “You didn’t. You didn’t, I asked. I asked to be a part of you, and I don’t regret that.”

But it’s like he can’t hear you over the sound of his shame. Instead kissing you softer as if to apologize. “It’s my fault. Should have told you the moment I saw him. Should have taken you with me. Shouldn’t have left you with him when I fucking knew—”

“Hey.” You reach down and take hold of his hair. Yanking his attention to you. “None of this could ever be your fault. Do you understand?”

He seems to ignore this as well, nudging his nose against your hip with a crestfallen expression that makes you want to scream.

So, you tug harder, forcing his head back and his eyes on yours. “This is who Jesse has always been. You didn’t change that, and you never will. And I know that. I know him. I know his heart and I know what he’d do to hurt me.”

His lips part, as if going to speak, but you merely tighten your grip in an unspoken order to remain silent.

“And I know you,” you continue. “I know that this is who you are. All of this. The fighting and the bets and the torture you put yourself through. And I know that you would never hurt me. That you have always done your best to protect me, even if I didn’t know what I was being protected from.”

His hands begin to drop down your legs and toward the floor, an act of complete submission. 

“This is not your fault,” you repeat earnestly. “You are not responsible for Jesse’s intentions, and you’re certainly not reasonable for mine. And I need you to know that. Okay? You have to know that. Because I have never felt safer than I do with you.”

His features remain unchanged, and you wonder if he heard anything that you said at all. If he understood and internalized your instance. If he’ll believe it.

And then—

“I love you.”

You feel your pulse skip inside your chest as you suck in a quiet breath. “What?”

“I love you, Cherry.” He says it again without pause, without a moment’s hesitation. Proving that it wasn’t a mistake or a trick of the mind. He really said it. And he meant to. “And m’so fucking sorry it took him for me to realize it.”

You aren’t sure what to do. What to say or…what to think, but he’s already shaking his head and offering you a small smile before you can decide.

“I don’t want you to say it,” he says quickly and quietly. Slipping your hand from his hair in order to press his lips into your palm. “I just want you to know. And I wish I could have done it differently, but…I do, I love you. And I will do everything I can to prove that to you.”

You want to tell him that he already has. Want to tell him a lot of things that maybe you shouldn’t, but he doesn’t give you the chance.

He merely kisses your hand before moving back to your thighs. Looking for your permission to continue. 

Breathlessly, you give it to him.

With a soft grin and great care, he extends his tongue and slowly drags it up your clit. He’s not rushing this time. He’s enjoying it. Allowing himself to indulge in your taste and your feel as you slump against the tile and let him.

He leaves a trail of apologies and promises along your pussy. Kissing, sucking, and flicking until you squirm. And he’s so focused, so dedicated to your orgasm. To making you understand how badly he needs you.

And you do understand. More than you’ve ever understood anything else.

“Love to see you, baby,” he murmurs after a moment, now running the tip of his finger between your folds and down. Taunting you with the intrusion yet not giving it to you. “Love to see this pretty pussy take me.”

You whine pitifully before he finally pushes in. Allowing your walls to beckon him closer until he hums.

“Can’t wait to see you take my cock,” he muses, thrusting the digit once or twice before bringing a second into play. “Gonna watch you stretch for me. Gonna just sit and watch this sweet, little hole take me in. Get me nice and warm. Till I’m soaking in you. Fucking drenched—”

“Harry,” you whine, overcome by a rather euphoric rush that makes him smirk. “Harry, please—”

“What, sweet girl? You like the sound of that?” He ignores your cries and flicks his tongue against your clit. “S’okay. I do, too. Think about it more than I should. Think about you and this tasty little cunt till I’m fucking my fist in the shower.”

The lewd image that’s painted in your head makes your toes curl, and you imagine you’d give anything to watch.

“But it’s not nearly as good as when you do it,” he says coyly. “Won’t ever be able to picture anything else but your sweet, little hand wrapped around my cock. Making me cum like a good girl.”

He adds a third finger, and your vision goes hazy.

“And this,” he breathes, fucking into you a bit faster. Until the sound of your arousal bounces between the walls. “Replay this in my head every goddamn day. The way you sound when you take my fingers, take my tongue. S’fucking beautiful, Cher. The best thing I’ve ever heard.”

You believe him.

“Wanna listen to you forever.” He laps at you like he’s dying of thirst. “Wanna taste you, wanna feel you. Wanna fucking hold you and never let you go. Never let anything hurt you. You’re the only good thing in my life, sweet girl. Need you to know.”

You aren’t sure if the tears in your eyes are from the pleasure or his admittance, but they fall from your cheeks almost mercilessly. And you can’t even wipe them away because, in some strange sort of way, you enjoy it. This pain and this angst that comes with the man on his knees before you.

“You’re mine, yeah?” he asks next. But the lustful undertone is gone. He’s pleading with you now. Begging you. “Not his, but mine. Always mine.”

Your agreeance comes before you can question it. “Yes…yes, I’m yours. Yours, I promise—”

 He groans into your cunt like he’s never been happier. And the reverberation down your thighs and across your clit nearly ruins you. “Say it again. Say it again, baby, please—”

“I’m yours. Just yours, Harry. Not his. Never…never his—”

“Fuck.” He pulls on your thigh in order to bury his mouth into your pussy. And you almost wonder if he’s actively trying to suffocate himself. “Again. Again, Cherry—”

“Yours.” The word drips from your tongue like honey from a honeycomb. “Just yours. Don’t wanna be anybody else’s.”

His entire face is nuzzled between your legs, and it almost kills you. Because he’s so beautiful. You’ve never seen or felt something so ethereal, and you can’t look away. Even when your eyes are desperate to fall shut, you force your attention on him. Watching as he mouths at your clit and drives in his fingers until it hits you.

You nearly collapse onto the floor, but he refuses to let you. Keeping you upright before you can go slipping down the wall and cementing you to his tongue in order to drag you through to the other side. 

“Mine,” you vaguely hear him hum, and your heart flutters. “Always mine.”

When he’s sure you’ve caught your breath, he straightens back up, and takes you in his arms. Kissing you and holding you and keeping you safe. Making sure you understand that he wants more than your orgasms. He wants you. Even without the explicit words, you know his true intentions. Know where his heart truly lies, and you settle there beside it.

Moments pass before either of you speak again. Instead listening to the sound of the running water hitting the floor. 

And you’re afraid to be the first to break this tranquility. Because you know once you do, you might not find it again. Jesse’s threat still lingers rather prominently in the forefront of your mind. And you’re terrified that every time you look at Harry…you’ll remember.

“Cherry?” he whispers minutes later, and your pulse jumps. 

You bury your face in his neck, bracing yourself from whatever he might say next. “Harry.”

He nuzzles his cheek against the crown of your head and sighs. And you can feel the heaviness of the breath leave his body. “I don’t know what to do.”

The vulnerability makes your throat run dry, and you subsequently tighten your arms around his middle. “Don’t have to do anything.”

“Cherry—”

“No, just…we’re okay,” you insist. “It’s okay. You just…you’ll win. You’ll keep fighting and you’ll win, and we’ll be okay. And I won’t have to lose you.”

A beat. “But what if I lose you?”

“You won’t. Never.”

“But he knows, Cher,” he murmurs. “He knows, and he’ll use you to hurt me. He’ll drag you into this as many times as he fucking wants, and he’ll use you. And I can’t let him – I won’t let him.”

“I don’t care. I don’t care what he does, he doesn’t scare me, Har—”

“But he fucking scares me.” His volume rises until it can carry over the shower walls. “All right? He terrifies me. Because now he has the one thing I can’t fucking…”

Your eyelids flutter before you take hold of his hand.

“And he wants to play this stupid fucking game, and I won’t let him,” Harry continues. “I won’t let him use you or threaten you, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper. “Okay, but you’re the one with all the cards. Right? He’s shown his hand. He’s shown how desperate he is. He can’t do anything to me if he really wants you to listen—”

“You don’t know him like this,” he nearly scoffs. “You don’t know what he’s willing to do—”

“Harry—”

“I can’t…I can’t,” he seethes. “I can’t get him out of my fucking head, and I can’t let him win. I won’t let him win.”

He’s unrelenting. Unwavering in this insistence and you feel as though your insides are being twisted around a knife.

All he has to do is win. All he has to do is let Jesse believe he’s still in charge. And he’ll be okay. You’ll both be okay.

“Harry,” you try again. Softer this time, hoping to reach him. “We’re gonna be fine. Okay? It’s you and me. We’ll be all right. We have to be.”

His expression instantly drops before he dips down and lays his forehead to yours. 

He says nothing else. Offers no more ideas or excuses. He simply exists in this belief and the serenity it provides.

Even if he knows it’s not strong enough to stand on.

“Okay,” he finally mumbles. “You and me.”

And it’s the best thing you’ve ever heard. Because for the first time all night, you see the way out. You see a future where he can be who he is, and you can be who you are, and it can still be all right. Where you can be together and be free of any threats and complications and just exist in this little world you’ve created.

A world outside of the diner and the backseat of his car. A world where he offers you more than his orgasms but his secrets, too. His life. And you need that. You need it more than you’ve ever needed anything in your life.

He leads you out of the shower not much later, digging through his things before offering you his hoodie and sweats to wear home. 

And there’s something so intimate about wearing his clothes. The way the tattered fabric feels against your skin. The way it smells like his cologne and the shampoo he must use. The way it fits your frame as if it was always meant to, keeping you warm despite the frigid air that greets you when you step outside.

You offer to drive him home, but he refuses. Insisting that it’s better if you don’t know where he lives, at least for right now. And you don’t have it in you to argue.

He makes you promise to lock your door the moment you get inside the car, and to lock your apartment door the moment it’s closed. You vow to do both before dragging him closer for a kiss.

And he gives it to you. He gives you five kisses, in fact. One on the forehead, one on each cheek, one on the nose, and finally…one on your lips.

 When he lets you go, you feel empty. Lost. As though a part of you is missing, and it aches the entire way home.

In fact, it aches for the next two days until you can finally see him again. And you busy about your shift, watching the clock like a hawk until midnight finally strikes, and you fly through the kitchen doors. Ready to see him and fill this gap in your chest.

But for the second time this week…booth 505 is empty. 

Instantly, the blood drains from your face. All the way down to your toes, and almost feel faint as your shaky legs carry you to his table.

However, the moment you’re close enough, you catch something just out of your peripheral, tucked just beneath the sugar dispenser. Something that most certainly wasn’t there a few minutes ago. 

A note.

With furrowed brows, you slip the folded napkin free and bring it closer. Straightening it out until you can make out the haphazard message scrawled across in black ink.

Meet me at the station after your shift.

Don’t tell Owen.

H.

Next Part:

~ Uppercut*

Previous Part:

~ Whiplash*

~ Full Knockout Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @dylanobandposts21 @lovebittenbyevans @caynonmoondreams @amberbambridge @percysaidnever @prettydelilah @ripesinner @fairytale07 @hannah9921 @mitochondrialeva-blog1 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @buckybarnessimpp @lomlhstyles @be-with-me-so-happily @daphnesutton @ribbonknives @stylesfever @slutforcoffein @rainycowbride @harringtonhundreds @kaybee87 @youcan-nolonger-run @tobesocoldasyou @cherryshouse @char112244 @harryscowgirl @hsbabygirl22-blog @mypolicemanharryyy @snwells @hermionelove @cherryluvhobi @becauseheartsgetbroken-hs

#harry #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry edward styles #harry styles concept #harry styles fic #harry styles story #smut #boxer!harry #boxer #harry and cherry #knockout #knockout harry #underground boxer!harry #harry styles series #harry styles fanfic #boxerry #harry styles fan

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #58 Part 1

His parents studied ghosts. Danny didn’t understand as a kid why everyone made fun of his parents. Now that he was 12, the thought was ludicrous and yet his parents continued their work on the portal. Danny had his sister Jazz though and the siblings were rather close. 

Jazz had spent a lot of time studying lately stating that she wanted to get into a good college. Danny understood he did, but being alone sucked and he couldn’t help it as he sighed kicking a pebble down the sidewalk. 

It was a nice hot summer day, the kind of day you’d want to spend at the beach or a pool. Danny however had other ideas. He was on the way to the local library. If Jazz was going to spend her summer studying for the ACTs then Danny was going to study what he wanted, Space. He quickly found a few books and got settled into a chair as he read. Space really was fascinating, he hoped one day his dream of becoming an astronaut would come true. 

An hour or so passed before Danny was interrupted, “what are you reading?” The voice started Danny out of his trance as he looked up at his interrupter. A boy about the same age as Danny with the same black hair and blue eyes that Danny had. His skin was more tan than Danny’s own pale white. 

Danny fidgeted in his seat for a moment before answering, “Astronomy: guide to the stars” Sure, Danny knew the text was college level but he already read all the ones for high and middle school. 

Damian seemed to hum thoughtfully with a hand on his chin before speaking again, “the book you're reading seems advanced, you seem smarter than your age would dictate. Father has requested that I visit the library and try to ‘make a friend or two’ in his words. I don’t see the need for companionship but if I must I’d rather it be with someone intelligent. My name is Damian.” It was a bit much but Danny guessed from what Damian said that he was complementing Danny. 

“Uh, Danny… I guess most of the people in my family are pretty smart.” He replied after a moment. 

Danny thought it was odd that someone wanted to be friends with him. Everyone at the public elementary school he went to knew who his parents were so they wanted nothing to do with him. It was lonely but Danny didn’t mind it too much, but Damian didn’t act like he knew Danny’s Parents. The thought of having a friend that didn’t judge him for who his parents were made Danny a little excited. 

“What occupation do your parents have?” It was a simple question with a not so simple answer. 

Oh, Danny’s heart stuttered a little bit at the thought of Damian knowing anything about. He didn’t want to lie, especially to his new friend but he didn’t want to tell him the truth. 

“Uh, they’re scientists but I don’t really know what they do…” Danny said carefully and slowly. He was sure Damian bought it. 

The two spent the next couple hours just talking in the library. It had started to get late and Damian needed to head back home. 

“Do you own your own phone?” Damian asked, it wasn’t uncommon, for most kids in his class had a cheap hand me down phone for emergencies. Danny unfortunately didn’t as his parents probably didn’t care where he was.

Danny shrugged, “not really, I could borrow my sisters but it really only gets used for emergencies.” 

Damian seemed to frown at this thinking for a moment before nodding as if he came to a conclusion, “my brother Todd has mentioned that it’s hard for low income houses to afford something I’d consider a necessity in this city. You do know how high the crime rate is, yes?” Danny nodded but he didn’t know what that had to do with having a phone Damian cleared his throat before continuing, “as you are now my friend I’d like to offer to purchase one for you.”

Danny hadn’t owned anything like a phone before, “a-are you sure? I don’t really need one, my parents don’t really… care?” He felt uncomfortable with his new friend spending money on him, Damian seemed like an important person especially with the clothes he wore and how he carried himself. Danny felt like he’d be taking advantage of his new friend if he bought Danny a phone. Danny closed the book he was holding and took a breath before speaking again, “I appreciate the offer but I wouldn’t have anything to offer you in return.” He let his gaze fall to the cover of the book, a swirling galaxy on a black background and bold yellow text. 

“I would not have offered it if I wasn’t sure.” Damian stated firmly causing Danny’s head to snap back up, “I do not need anything in return, however if you really intend to pay me back, Father has insisted that I bring a friend home sometime. Since we have established that we are friends I insist that you come visit every so often to, as Richard puts it ‘get him off my back’.” It sounded like a simple request but Danny was unsure. If Damian was someone important then his family was bound to be even more important. 

He took a moment to think about it, but Jazz would be happy Danny finally made a friend…

“Alright, I accept,” Danny said as they shook hands. It might have been a little childish but he could tell he made some sort of bond with Damian. 

After that they had quickly become friends. Once Danny had become accustomed to being in the Wayne house he basically became family, and was often visiting, especially to eat Mr. Pennyworths cooking. Mr. Wayne also seemed fond of Danny, he even offered to pay for Danny to go to Gotham Academy along with Damian. Danny had been hesitant at first but Damian quickly wore him down. Tim eventually wormed his way into the group as he and Danny bonded over the latest video game releases. Soon Jazz got roped into the group too as she started to visit the manor to get away from how noisy the lab got. 

A couple years had passed since the day that started the road to their friendship and the four of them had really bonded since then. Unfortunately their parents had finished the portal and its here where things go downhill for Danny.

In the next one Danny dies and all 4 of them are deeply traumatized.

Damian saw his dad doing research on the Fenton family, Bruce is just looking out for potential rouges and Damian took the opportunity to become friends with Danny. He figured that he could just bribe Danny into being his friend like all the kids at his school try but Danny is a lil cinnamon roll. Taken aback from how sweet Danny is Damian decided that Danny really was smart and worth being a friend. Tim has the same thoughts especially as Danny starts visiting the mansion more. Jazz loved that Danny had a spot to go where people seemed to actually care about him and she eventually gets dragged into the group. You can only drop off your brother at the Wayne’s so often before you get dragged into the group as well and I thought Tim and Jazz can be the same age and can bond over being older siblings.

#dp x dc prompt #danny fenton #danny phantom #dp x dc #dc x dp #writing prompt #poor danny #Danny and Damian became friends #Tim and Jazz eventually become friends and join #Danny is a cinnamon roll #bad parents jack and maddie #Whole lot of exposition #I this is what happens when I take my time to write #Jazz is an amazing older sister #my asks are open #all my prompts are free to use

[agi-ppangx]

to feel wanted (bang chan x gn!reader)

hurt/comfort i think???, very self indulgent, channie is here to stay an: this is the aftermath of me procrastinating on uni stuff, have fun reading it😽

“why would you say that?”

you blinked a few times, tilting your head to the side. did you say something wrong? 

“what do you mean?” you mumbled, taking a sip of your coffee. you grimaced, feeling it taste more bitter than usual. 

“you said we��re not close,” chan elaborated and you nodded. you did say that, yes, but what was so wrong about it? “i don’t wanna make it about myself, but it hurts, y’know?” he added, making you freeze. you looked up at him with a bewildered face and it almost made chan apologise, but he couldn’t drop the topic now, not when he finally worked up the courage to broach it with you. 

“i don’t think i understand,” you said with a forced smile, huffing gently to lighten the mood around you two. you hoped he’d just say “yeah, forget it”, but it seemed to seriously bother him as he searched for the best way to voice his concerns. 

“i know you don’t have a lot of close friends,” chan started hesitantly, not sure if it won’t hurt you. you frowned but nodded nonetheless, aware of your nonexistent social life. “but saying that we aren’t close? c’mon,” he sighed. you dropped your head, stirring the straw in your coffee a few times. your cheeks burned and your breathing became erratic. you took another sip of your bitter drink. 

“it’s just… easier for me,” you started quietly, not daring to look him in the eyes. you reached out for a napkin from the dispenser, desperately trying to busy your hands with something, anything just to not focus entirely on the conversation you never wanted to have in the first place. “i always do this, it’s like some kind of… defence mechanism or something. at least that’s what i tell myself.” chan glimpsed at you with a concerned look on his face, straightening his posture. 

“so… what does it mean exactly?” he asked, observing as you folded and unfolded the napkin. you took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the vulnerability.

“throughout my life i learned that people don’t really like me. they tend to think i’m rude or weird and they never want to talk to me after they meet me,” you shrugged your shoulders. “i’ve always been the kind to get attached really quickly, so it hurt me whenever they left. so now i just kind of… gaslight myself into thinking that people don’t care about me and that i’m not close to anybody.” chan observed you intently as you spoke almost nonchalantly about your struggles. he stayed silent as you put the napkin away and just stared into the table. 

“you know i’d never leave you, right…?” he whispered, not exactly sure how he should feel. he was hurt, of course, because for the past few months you two had known each other he considered you one of the closest people in his life. you made him happier, like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day or a cup of warm tea on a winter evening. why couldn’t you see how important you were to him?

you finally made eye contact with him, looking for any type of sarcasm in his sight, but instead you were met with softness, gentleness, love. 

you nodded silently, blinking rapidly as you felt the tears sting at the corners of your eyes. you couldn’t open up fully just yet, but you wanted to believe him. you wanted to know what it’s like when someone genuinely cares about you and is willing to keep up with your odd traits and strange personality.

you wanted to feel wanted. 

taglist !

@lynlyndoll @iyenbread @flooo71 @skz-streamer @inniescandy-01 @hannahhbahng @prettymiye0n @ggsez31 @laylasbunbunny @like-a-diamondinthesky @axel-skz @kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy @l3visbby @skzhoes @minhosbitterriver @astraystayyh

#skz #stray kids #stray kids headcanons #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz au #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #stray kids hurt/comfort #stray kids angst #stray kids imagine #stray kids x you #skz fluff #skz bang chan #christopher bang #bang chan scenarios #bang chan fluff #bang chan x reader #bang chan fanfic #bang chan hurt/comfort #bang chan angst

[coeurify]

actually on my knees begging for a girl next door blurb with Ellie

like imagine moving into the house next to her’s and her being all grumbly and closed off because she cannot physically face the reader because she’s just a loser lesbian and OMG THE UNKNOWN PINING SUJDJSNSNDB

I NEED HER I CANT-

WHERE IS THE LOVE FOR LOSER GND!ELLIE ⁉️

giggles.. cause like.. yea.

if we r talking modern!ellie, oh god would it be the most cliche shit ever (plz tell me if u want jackson!ellie version cause i’d be happy to do that too. or jus more of this concept) [not edited]

⋆˚✿˖° im talking, ellie looking out from her window in her old house, eyes narrowing as a moving truck pulled into the pretty blue house next door. the neighborhood had been recently taken over by young families, which ellie hated— cause why was she being interrupted in her ‘laying in her bed while blasting music and complaining to herself’ alone time by a bunch of kids screaming outside? either way. she expected another one of these cases.

⋆˚✿˖° but then you popped out, trying to handle three boxes all on your own, cheek pressed against the cardboard as you yelled something ellie couldn’t hear to whoever else was in moving truck. you had glanced over at ellie’s house, maybe even up at her window. and maybe ellie was just dramatic, but she flipped away from that window and face down onto her bed so quickly she was pretty sure it was a new record. because fuck you were pretty.

⋆˚✿˖° and it only got worse later, when el was pulling her hair down from its bun, glancing the sun pressing below the clouds. her fingers moved to close the curtains of her window, and there you were, standing at the window directly across from hers. like— shit straight from a taylor swift music video or something.

⋆˚✿˖° and you, almost as awkward as her, let your hands fall down from their place above your head. you had been putting up shades, but once you caught the gaze of your messy haired neighbor, you smiled at her. fuck, you smiled and waved and ellie just turned away and shut her curtains. you know, like the master at social interactions she was.

⋆˚✿˖° a twin frown painted both your lips at the interaction that night, and at the same time you both huffed out, “god, why’d i do that?”

⋆˚✿˖° nothing really got better from there. not when your family forced you over to ellie’s house with a plate of cookies, your sweet smile the first sight ellie had seen that day as she turned the doorknob to shoo away some girl scout selling something. “we don’t need— oh— oh hi.”

⋆˚✿˖° you looked so fucking pretty. ellie was sure it was fake. maybe she was still in bed dreaming. maybe this was about to turn into one of those really weird s- never mind. you were talking now, and not asking to borrow sugar, so definitely real. “hi! uh— I just, we— i mean, my family, we just wanted to introduce ourselves. and give a gift i guess,” you glance to the plate of wrapped up treats and chuckle lightly. because really, cookies?

⋆˚✿˖° ellie was about red as the shirt she was wearing, stammering a thank you as joel creeped behind her at the door. “you the new neighbors kid?” joel had asked, making ellie clam right up. she backed away from the door, like— just side shuffled out of your view with an awkward wave.

⋆˚✿˖° your eyes followed her, fighting back the odd sense of disappointment that you were no longer staring at the freckled and flushed face of your new neighbor. “uh, yea—yes sir.” you eventually spoke again, offering your grin to joel instead.

⋆˚✿˖° one time joel was doing yard work the same time your family was outside working on the garden. you were fanning your sweating cheek with your hand, the warmth from the sun along with carrying in and out heavy tools was not exactly ideal, and you only felt more heated when ellie came outside the door at the exact moment joel ended up making conversation with your mother.

⋆˚✿˖° “your girl in college?” you could hear him ask, but it was lightly muffled, your attention instead on watching as ellie struggled to bend over and tie her converse against the wall. what an odd way to do it. she was balancing some sort of notebook between arm.. maybe pencils too? did she draw? or maybe write? why couldn’t you stop wondering about it?

⋆˚✿˖° your mom answered joel’s question with some version of the story she always does, gushing about how you were doing so well in school, how she was so proud of you. you didn’t tune back in until joel was speaking again, “ah yea, my — well, ellie, she’s in school too. physics major. but she’s got this thing for astronomy too. kid’s always talking about double majoring.”

⋆˚✿˖° god, she was cute and smart? and her name was ellie? you swore the sun got even hotter at the thought of her talking to you about quantum something-or-other, just nodding along. god you could see it now. a hand in that pretty auburn hair.. mumbling ‘mhm.. whatever you say ellie.’

⋆˚✿˖° then you saw her trip down the stairs on her porch as she looked over. full on hand on the side of the stairs to keep her from eating shit on the rocks there. you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, stifling a giggle as you wave her way. only to be given a tight lipped smile as she quickly moved away to her car. god. what an odd girl.

⋆˚✿˖° ellie simply lost it the moment she sat in her car, groaning loudly as she slammed her sketch book on her face. “stupid fucking shoes!” she muttered, as if it was the shoes fault for tripping, and not the way she had been intently staring at your face from across the yard. definitely not.

⋆˚✿˖° but really she couldn’t help it, you looked so good, you were wearing shorts, and ellie was happily taking in the sight of skin before that evil fucking creaky porch board got her tumbling down. fuck. she couldn’t ever talk to you again. not ever. she let her head fall to the steering wheel as she went through a million and one ways to simply become invisible and escape any way of running into you. maybe she should become nocturnal.

⋆˚✿˖° but when she let her head fall to the steering wheel, it honked. like a loud, drawn out honk that had you, joel, and your mother’s head turning to the direction of the sound.

⋆˚✿˖° ellie screeched, and you pressed fingers to your lips to contain another smile. you were pretty sure living here was going to be kind of great.

#not my writing comeback.. urm #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x fem reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fic #ellie williams fluff

[starlessea2]

If you still want Astarion requests, I’d love to see something with a Tav who’s really nervous to let Astarion bite? 🥺

Positively Starved (Astarion)

Pairing: Astarion x Reader [Baldur's Gate 3]

Summary: In spite of your nerves, you invite Astarion back for a bite; admiring the trust you've put in him, he promises to be gentle (Act 1 spoilers).

A/N I wrote this in under an hour as I wanted to play around with some requests! Let me know if you'd like to see more of these off-the-cuff oneshots! (Also, slight mention of blood in this one).

Masterlist

"You can feed on me tonight... if you'd like."

The words sprung from your mouth. They lingered in the air, each syllable punctuating over and over—ringing out through your shared connection.

You felt a cringe.

Where in the seven hells did that come from? Was one near-death encounter not enough?

Before you could attempt to splutter out any sort of explanation, you were met with Astarion's laugh. "How very generous, my dear! I was starting to wonder when you'd invite me back for a bite."

Blood pooled to your cheeks; you could feel it—see it in the way his eyes turned them a similar, darker shade.

As you ruminated on his words, your heart hammered in your chest. The silence was palpable. But just as you were about to open your mouth to dismiss the idea completely, the man was roused into action.

"You know... I never expected you to be so eager," he finally said. Your embarassment swelled tenfold. "Tell you what, when the others have turned in for the night, I'll come to your bedroll."

Immediately, your breath caught in your throat. You glanced around—far less subtly than you would have hoped. To anyone in earshot, it would have sounded like Astarion was propositioning you.

Well, he was, you quickly realised. Just for blood over sex.

"Right—okay," you stammered back. You hated how weak your voice sounded, so you took a moment to make it stronger. "Come find me later then," you told him, before returning to sifting through your supplies.

You tried to calm your nerves, but as you turned to leave, you did not miss the way Astarion's fangs poked through his grin, nor how his eyes trailed your neck. Your legs almost buckled.

◤━━━━━━━━━━━◥ ◤━━━━━━━━━━━◥

As night fell, you found yourself, and your bedroll, tucked away in a small stone outhouse on the edge of camp. You'd discovered it earlier in the day, when looting storage boxes for odds and sods. It was cold, and damp—but at least it wasn't dark.

Amber glow lit up the space; you'd illuminated it with a few low-wicked candles as you waited for Astarion. In this warm light, you tried to make yourself comfortable on your bedroll.

"Setting the mood are we?"

Astarion's voice echoed through the outhouse. Although you tried not to acknowledge it, your heart immediately quickened in response—as did your mind race.

Your eyes followed him as he came inside, closing the old oak door behind him. "I must admit, I didn't expect this..." He waved a hand before him, inspecting the dripping candles, and your poor attempts at cleaning the place up.

"How come?" you asked.

His smile sent a shiver down your spine. "Well, aside from me getting a tad carried away the first time we did this... I could also feel your thoughts."

Even in the dim light, you could see his half-lidded expression, as though he was reliving the moment behind tired eyes.

He went on, "Excitement, yes, my dear. But also flighty as a bird."

Your brows furrowed. Part of you felt indignant, craved to prove him wrong by baring your neck without an ounce of apprehension. The other part wondered how he already knew you so well.

You tried to muster a reply, but it was Astarion who spoke first. "As much as I appreciate the offer, you don't have to do this, you know."

In that moment, everything seemed to still. You could only imagine the state of disbelief painted on your face. Throughout your time together, that must have been the most selflessness Astarion had ever strewn into a sentence.

But now was not the time to comment on it.

"I know," you said instead. "And I won't lie to you. I'm not sure exactly why I sought you out."

You sat up and reached for Astarion's hand. Something flashed over his face, but even so, he allowed you to guide him down to your bedroll.

"Perhaps you were right. Perhaps there is a spark of curiosity in me—excitement, even." His eyes widened, set alight by your confession. "Or maybe, and I know you won't like it..."

With a raised brow, he coaxed you, "Go on."

"When you told me about Cazador—" You paused for Astarion scowl, watching the lines materialise on his porcelain skin. "Well, I just thought how horrible it must have been to be constantly..." You sought out the word. "Hungry."

Astarion's lips parted ever so slightly.

Are you hungry? You shared the thought with him.

"Positively starved," came the reply.

Then he leaned in, casting shadows over your candle-lit skin. To any onlooker it might appear he was preparing for a kiss. But you weren't that naive.

"Not—" Your hand found his chest, the exposed skin peeking out of his shirt collar. "Not too much," you whispered.

Your eyes caught his in a silent plea. Astarion answered by taking your hand and pressing it into your bedroll. "No need to worry, my dear," he said, hot against your ear. "I promise to be gentle."

Your breath hitched. That wasn't the first time you'd heard those words spill from his pretty lips; you just hoped he'd be true to his word on this occasion.

You kept your eyes tightly shut as Astarion found your neck. As his fangs scraped your skin, you took a fistful of his hair between your fingers.

He bit down.

You tried not to cry out. The sensation was one you could hardly describe: a sharp sting followed by... euphoria?

No that wasn't right.

But all you could confidently say was that Asatrion's body lay hot over yours, and his lips were soft, but not quite as gentle as promised.

As he drank from you, you saw stars behind your eyes.

Your body thrummed as he suckled on the tender skin of your neck. The sounds he made were nothing short of sinful; they elicited a strained sort of moan from behind your own lips.

You felt Astarion's hand tighten over yours. He took more from you, worrying your skin between his teeth, coaxing more of your gasps to surface.

Pleasure mingled with pain coursed through your shared connection—a deep longing on either end. You cried out, and quickly, Astarion pulled away.

Feeling the loss of warmth, you opened your eyes. You were dazed, but even then, you noticed his cherry-red lips, tinted with your blood.

You blinked, trying to rid your vision of its blurred edges.

"Are you alright, my dear?" Astarion asked. He sat up immediately, inspecting your neck and overall complexion. "You're looking a little... flushed," he concluded.

A tired laugh escaped you. "My blood runs hot," you managed to say.

"Indeed it does," he agreed. Then he promptly stood up and dusted himself off.

A pang of hurt struck you.

It must have been strong enough to have travelled through your shared connection, since Astarion glanced back almost immediately.

"Don't look at me like that," he said, exasperated. "I'm just going to fetch some water. Try not to move until the dizziness passes."

Your mouth fell ajar. A wave of shyness overcame you. Had it been that obvious you wanted him to stay?

Apparently it had, so you tentatively rolled over, hiding your face from the man. "Thank you," you mumbled into your bedroll.

You heard the door creak open, and Astarion's footsteps damper. "No, my dear," he replied. "Thank you."

#astarion #bg3 #astarion x reader #bg3 fanfic #astarion fanfic #astarion x tav #baldurs gate 3 #astarion fanfiction #astarion x oc #astarion x you #fanfiction #fanfic #bg3 fanfiction

[theobsessivesideblog]

Hook Where it Hurts

Astarion finds himself Experiencing Emotions™ after a battle takes a turn for the worse.

Warnings: violence/injury, death, angst BUT happy ending I promise

—————————————————————

Your time in the Underdark had been relatively uneventful, all things considered. Sure there were Minotaurs, the occasional bulette, and exploding mushrooms, but there was something strangely beautiful about the alien landscape. The myconids were a friendly, if odd and slightly bloodthirsty bunch. Your conversation with Omeluum had proved enlightening, and trade with Blurg and Derryth had garnered you some useful items. Overall you couldn’t bring yourself to regret following Halsin’s advice to take the subterranean path to the Shadow-Cursed lands. 

You set up camp at the Myconid colony, heading out at first light (or at least what you assumed was first light without the actual sun to confirm) to begin your trek towards the lake Sovereign Spaw had pointed you toward. An hour into your walk a glow appeared in the distance, lighting up the gloom of the cavernous landscape. 

“I say, that can’t be… I do believe that may be a Sussur tree!” Gail exclaimed from behind you. “Powerful things, and rare, uniquely capable of completely nullifying magical forces, just fascinating!” he continued, eyes alight at the prospect of examining one up close. 

“Sussur… that sounds familiar,” Karlach pondered. 

“Ah! Right you are my fiery friend, there were instructions in the village about making a weapon with the bark! That would likely prove to be a powerful tool, we should certainly take a look.” 

You gazed towards the tree, comparing its location with the heading you had gotten from Spaw. In all likelihood you would end up passing nearby, may as well go on purpose. 

“Seems like it won’t be too much of a detour,” you announced, glancing around the group. “All in favor?”

“I’d never say no to a new kick-ass weapon,” Karlach grinned. 

“That’s two for, Astarion?” you asked, looking over towards the rogue.

“I doubt our resident magician will shut up about it until we pay a visit, so fine. Let’s go traipsing through the monster-infested dark to look at the magic tree,” Astarion said with a dramatic eye roll. 

“Anti-magic, technically, you see the—“ Gale’s chatter came to an abrupt halt as Astarion shot him a withering glance. “Right, yes, um. Shall we?” 

——————— 

You had to admit, the Sussur tree was breathtaking. Far larger than you had initially realized, clearly ancient and powerful. You glanced over to see your companions’ reactions, breath catching as your eyes met Astarion’s. His pale skin was nearly pearlescent in the ethereal glow, the blue light making his red eyes darker than usual. He stared back, lips pulling into a smirk, and a shiver of desire ran down your spine as he began prowling towards you. You’d been playing this game of cat and mouse for days, taking turns taunting and tempting each other and you were curious to see who would break first.

A movement behind Astarion’s shoulder broke you out of your reverie, eyes catching on a monstrous creature slowly beginning to descend toward your troupe from the raised roots of the tree. Your face paled and you saw Astarion’s brow furrow in your periphery as he registered that he had lost your attention, turning to see what had distracted you. He stiffened as he caught sight of the beast, silently reaching to retrieve an arrow while you hissed quietly towards Gale and Karlach in an attempt to get their attention. Karlach looked your way and you subtly gestured towards the creature as it crept closer to the group, trying to hold back the urge to laugh as she reached out and smacked Gale’s arm, interrupting his lecture on the properties of the blossoms.  

A few more wordless glances between the four of you had everyone subtly moving into position, preparing for what was sure to be a short battle. You glanced across the clearing, locking eyes with each of your companions before giving a tight nod as all of you attacked at once. The creature let out a shriek as it was barraged by both metal and magic, falling from its root bridge and hitting the ground below with a sickening crunch. 

As the adrenaline faded from your system and you walked forward to observe the corpse you were nearly disappointed by how easily the beast had fallen. Not that you ever wanted to get your ass kicked but you had certainly expected that a monster with as many teeth and claws as this one would’ve put up a bit more of a fight. Karlach had turned away with a dissatisfied pout on her lips as she sheathed her weapon and Astarion had already started to wander off to investigate the rest of the cave as you gently nudged the cooling body on the ground with the tip of your boot. It was grotesque up close, a bird-like skeletal face filled with vicious teeth and enormous, razor-sharp hooks protruding from the end of each arm in place of hands. Beside you Gale was surveying the corpse with a strangely joyous expression.

“What a fascinating beast! We got quite lucky, they’re exceptional hunters, certainly wouldn’t want to run into one of these unprepared! They’re called Hook Horrors!” he announced gleefully to no one in particular.

“Did someone say something about whores?” Astarion called from across the cavern. Karlach snorted loudly as she and Gale began making their way over towards him and you rolled your eyes as your lips curled into a smile.

“Yes, Star, Gale has deeply insulted me,” you called back sarcastically. “You may need to come defend my honor! In fact, I–”

You cut off abruptly as a shriek pierced through the air, echoing off the hard rock. You all whipped toward the sound, weapons coming back to the ready as another hook horror climbed out from behind a patch of roots close to your three companions. As you watched it emerge you distractedly thought that it would be nice to go back to fighting above ground again. The way sound bounced around the rocks always made it sound like there was something behind you, and some paranoid instinct had you sending a cursory glance back over your shoulder to calm your nerves. 

You froze in place, realizing your fears had been well founded as another hook horror silently emerged from around the corner of the cavern wall and leapt towards you. You barked out a startled curse and jumped back as it took a swing at you. The first horror may have fallen easily enough against the four of you, but your companions were locked in battle on the other side of the cavern and you were well aware that a one-on-one fight was one you wouldn’t win. 

You kept your eyes locked on the creature as you began backing your way across the cave, hoping you could get within range of your party before it lost patience and struck. Based on the sounds the other monster was emitting it wouldn’t be a threat for much longer. You tightened your hold on your weapon, preparing to strike as you crept back another step, heart skipping as the rock you had stepped on shifted underneath your boot. You glanced down for a split second, trying to find your footing, a sense of dread filling you as you saw the hook horror jump into motion in your peripheral vision. 

The hook drove into your side and you screamed. Pain the likes of which you’d never felt before tore through you as the hook horror yanked its arm across your abdomen, tearing through your stomach. You thought you heard someone shout, but they sounded a million miles away as you collapsed to your knees before the beast, your sight dimming around the edges. You vaguely registered a flash of blades and a wet thump as the hook horror’s head hit the ground before your vision was taken over by Astarion’s panicked visage. His hands gripped your face, feeling unnaturally warm against your cheeks as the world faded away.  

“No no no, you can’t die, get UP damn you!” he shouted, desperately trying to staunch the flow of blood from the jagged cut across your midsection even as a small voice in the back of his mind told him it was too late. His shaking hands were covered in your blood but he had never found it less appealing, appetite long gone as he stared at your unnaturally pale face. “Please, my sweet, don’t do this to me,” he pleaded, vision clouding as his eyes filled with tears. He saw a red blur on his left as Karlach kneeled down beside him and he instinctively curled around you protectively, arms gently slipping around your back as he clutched your unmoving form against his chest.

“Astarion, we need–”  

“Give me a healing potion. Now.” he ordered, voice dangerously low.

“It’s too late, Astarion. We need to get her body back–”

“Don’t say it like that,” he growled shakily. He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath, trying to steady himself but choking on the scent of your blood in the air. “A resurrection scroll then,” he demanded, glaring in Gale’s direction.

“I… it won’t work. The tree–”

Astarion snarled out a curse and pressed his forehead against your frigid cheek, desperately trying to contain the sob attempting to claw its way out of him. 

“We need to get her to camp, Astarion,” Karlach repeated gently, a small line of steam rising from where a tear had just rolled her cheek. “We need Shadowheart. I can carry–”

“No,” he murmured, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face with a trembling hand before adjusting one of his arms beneath your knees and standing with you cradled against him. “I’ve got her.” 

———————

They were farther from camp than Astarion had realized, though perhaps it only felt that way because he had spent the entire walk staring at your lifeless face. He felt numb by the time they arrived, hardly hearing Karlach shout for Shadowheart as they passed the first of the tents. In the back of his mind he was aware that their other companions had gathered around them frantically asking questions, but the words didn’t register and he continued forward without acknowledging any of them. He walked to his tent in a trance, gingerly setting you down on his bedroll and kneeling at your side as his shaking hands tried to arrange your limp body into a more comfortable configuration.

“What in the hells happened?” Shadowheart snapped as Karlach pulled her roughly into the tent. He should answer, should try to explain, but he was frozen kneeling by your side, unable to pull his attention away from your unblinking eyes.

“She- she was-” Karlach bit back a sob, trying to catch her breath. “We got caught off guard. She was alone. She shouldn’t have been alone,” Karlach choked out, dissolving into tears. Shadowheart hurried to your side and knelt across from Astarion, immediately beginning to unfasten the straps on your armor and peeling the bloodied metal away from your skin.

“We need to get her cleaned up so I can see what I'm doing. Astarion, can you fetch me some water and clean washcloths?” she asked, continuing to remove your ruined clothing. When he remained unmoving she looked up to where he sat, his gaze unwaveringly focused on the brutal cut across your torso. 

“Astarion,” she repeated softly, waiting as he slowly drug his gaze up to meet her eyes. “I swear to you I will do everything in my power to fix this, but I need your help.” She paused, waiting until Astarion gave a small nod of acknowledgement to rattle off the things she needed, her attention returning to your still form as Astarion rose and darted around his tent gathering what she had requested. He returned a heartbeat later, depositing the items at her side as she instructed him to wet a cloth and begin wiping away as much blood as he could. 

She began chanting a prayer as he worked, hovering her hands over your sternum while he continued to gently clean your skin. Your blood had been a gift once, a delight. Now he shuddered as he attempted to ring out the bloodied rag in his hand, barely fighting the urge to retch as it dripped from his hands into the reddened bowl of water at his side.

A light sparked in Shadowheart’s hands, warm and radiant, and Astarion stopped his work, dropping the stained cloth and gently reaching out with trembling fingers to take hold of your hand. The light in her palms grew as she focused, directing its power towards you. A glowing beam split from the whole and snaked downwards, weaving through the jagged edges of your wound and drawing them together while the remainder of the light floated upward, hovering over your heart. She continued chanting, her eyes drifting closed in concentration as the glowing orb started to lower, dimming as it sunk through your skin and into your chest. The room grew silent as Shadowheart completed the incantation and lowered her hands, looking you over carefully. 

“Did it… did it work?” Karlach whispered. “Is it supposed to take this long? Why isn’t she–”

Your chest rose as you gasped in air, the breath immediately turning to a cough at the uncomfortable stretch in your lungs. The air tasted of iron and magic and you frowned, trying to open your eyes to observe your surroundings but surprised to find your eyelids heavy and uncooperative. Cool fingers brushed against your face, smoothing away the furrow in your brow and you instinctively relaxed at the familiar touch. 

“All is well, darling,” you heard Astarion whisper, voice sounding oddly constricted. “Rest now.” 

You were still confused, still couldn't remember how you’d gotten here or what had happened. It felt as if something important had occurred, surely you shouldn’t sleep now. You heard the soft murmur of voices around you, a strained chuckle, a soft sniffle. You frowned again, struggling once more to open your eyes and earning an exasperated sigh from the vampire beside you. 

“Please, pet,” he breathed, lips ghosting over your skin as he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek. “Just sleep.” 

Your sense of unease fell away as Astarion began gently running his fingers through your hair. You felt him press another soft kiss against your forehead and relaxed into him, allowing yourself to drift off in his arms.

———————

The second Shadowheart had given the all clear Astarion had insisted everyone leave his tent. It was far too crowded and he wouldn’t have them waking you up when you were clearly in no condition to face their fussing. Even as he anchored himself in the sound of your steady heartbeat he still felt restless and off-balance, hands flitting over your sleeping form looking for something more to do. 

He felt ridiculous. You were here in front of him, healed and whole, and that should be the end of it. So why in the hells were his hands still trembling as he ensured your blankets were tucked around you? Why did his chest ache uncomfortably every time he caught a leftover whiff of your blood in the air? 

He huffed out a frustrated breath and sat on the ground beside you, staring at your sleeping face warily. This had never been part of his plan. He was never supposed to… care. Two centuries of distancing himself and building walls and somehow you had just waltzed right past his defenses and made yourself at home. He let out a defeated sigh and reached over, extracting your hand from the blankets to weave your fingers together with his. His gaze drifted to the steady rise and fall of your breathing and he found himself matching your pace, the tightly wound coil in his chest finally starting to loosen as you let out a soft snore. 

Tomorrow, he decided. Tomorrow he could deal with figuring out why that sound made him smile. Tomorrow he could obsess over how even just holding your hand made his whole body feel warmer. Tomorrow he could deal with the fact that in over 200 years of life he’d never before been as completely and utterly terrified as he had been today. For now, though, he would indulge. For tonight he would just let himself have this, whatever ‘this’ was. He closed his eyes and lifted your hand to his face, gently brushing his lips across your knuckles as he settled in to watch over you until morning. 

———————

The passage of time in the Underdark still confused you. You woke to the same darkness you had fallen asleep in, groggily wondering what time it was and how long you had been in bed. Your mouth was dry and your head was pounding. Had you been drinking? That would certainly explain why you couldn’t remember how you had gotten here. As unappealing as getting up sounded, you were parched and you couldn’t stay here forever. You hoisted yourself up and froze as pain suddenly lanced through you, your vision flickering and arms giving out as you whimpered and fell back toward your pillow only to be caught by a pair of cold, pale arms. 

“I wouldn’t recommend moving just yet, darling,” Astarion said, looking down at you with a worried frown on his face as he lowered you gently back to the bedroll. “Shadowheart did as much as she could last night but it took a lot out of her to bring you back. You’re not going anywhere until she’s gotten a chance to check on you again.” He leaned across you, determinedly avoiding meeting your eyes as he made sure your pillow was adequately fluffed. You saw a slight tremor run through him and heard a catch in his breath before he stood abruptly and walked across the tent, silently pouring you a glass of water from the pitcher in the corner.

“Bring me… back?” you questioned. Astarion stilled, jaw clenching as you took him in. His normally flawlessly tousled hair was tangled as if he had been running his hands through it and streaks of blood threaded through the white locks. There were dark circles under his eyes and his skin looked even paler than normal, nearly translucent in the dim light. Your eyes flitted down to his wrinkled, untucked shirt and then around the tent, catching on the blood-soaked pile of clothes and armor to the side of the entrance and the red-stained towels laying by a bowl of water next to the bedroll. A dim memory flashed through your mind: a tree, an ambush, excruciating pain, and then… nothing. 

“Oh.” you whispered, exhaling shakily as you felt your chest constrict, breaths turning quick and shallow as the air seemed to thin. Astarion was by your side in an instant, one hand smoothing back your hair while the other cupped your cheek, his thumb gently wiping away a tear you hadn’t even realized had fallen.

“It’s alright, darling, just breathe. You’re safe now.” he murmured, continuing to stroke your hair as your breathing calmed. He let out a tremulous sigh and closed his eyes, leaning down to press his forehead to yours. “It’s alright,” he repeated even more quietly, sounding almost as if he were talking to himself, pressing against you for a moment before inhaling sharply and pulling away.

“Shit, you’re in pain, aren’t you?” he said, looking you over with worried eyes and immediately moving to stand. “I’ll get Shadowheart, she said she’d come by when she woke but surely she’s had enough sleep by now and–” 

“Wait, Star, I… can you just stay here with me for a moment?” you asked in a small voice. Warmth spread through him at your request and he obliged immediately, lowering himself to sit at your side and gently taking your hand in his. You sat in companionable silence for a moment, studying his profile as he stared at your interlaced fingers. Up close the bags beneath his eyes were even more pronounced and you frowned, gently extricating your hand from his to touch his cheek. He leaned into your palm and placed a kiss against the inside of your wrist, eyes drifting closed as he basked in the warmth of your touch.

“Have you rested at all, Astarion?” you questioned. “You look exhausted.” 

He huffed a laugh and cracked open an eye to look at your face. 

“I’m not sure you want to get into comparing looks right now, darling. You’re even paler than me at the moment,” he chuckled, eyes closing once again as he leaned further into your touch, a teasing grin spread across his face. “I assure you, however you may think I look, you look ten times worse.” 

“Hm, that’s not too bad I suppose,” you smirked. “Ten times worse than you is still at least three times better than the average person.” 

Astartion barked out a surprised laugh and opened his eyes to look at you again, something in them softening as he saw your gentle smile. 

“Whoever would’ve thought math could be so romantic,” he murmured, leaning forward and placing a soft kiss against your lips. He raised a hand to brush a stray hair off your forehead and his smile faded, brow furrowing as his gaze met yours with uncharacteristic vulnerability. “Please don’t scare me like that again, my dear,” he breathed. “I’m- I don’t-” he sighed in frustration at the mess of emotions in his chest, hardly able to remember the last time his words had failed him so completely. 

“Don’t want to deal with this group of weirdos all by yourself?” you teased gently. He grinned back at you, gratitude in his eyes for not pushing him to collect his thoughts just yet. 

“Precisely that,” he chuckled, the tension leaving his shoulders. 

“Well I’m not going anywhere,” you said, smiling softly at him. “Also I wasn’t kidding before, you look like shit. You really should get some rest.” 

“Hm,” Astarion hummed mischievously, narrowing his eyes. “I would, but you see someone went and bled all over my bedroll. Adept though I may be at washing out blood stains it’s a rather thick fabric, it will take a while to dry back out. I may need to stay with… someone… for a day or two. Or three. Maybe more,” he smirked, raising an eyebrow suggestively as you huffed out a laugh. 

“You’re incorrigible,” you replied, grinning up at him and rolling your eyes. “I suppose it does seem that I’ve made rather a mess of your tent though…”

“You certainly have,” he murmured, shifting to hover over you, slowly kissing his way along your jaw.

“And it would only be fair to let you bunk with the cleanest person in camp…”

“Mmhmm…” he hummed, kissing closer and closer to your lips.

“And I’m sure Gale wouldn’t mind letting you crash with him–”

“Excuse me??” he crowed, pulling back indignantly as you burst out laughing below him. He scowled playfully and shook his head at you in feigned displeasure. “You wicked little thing,” he chuckled, leaning back down and finally pressing his lips to yours in a gentle, unhurried kiss. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Whatever it is,” you smirked, pulling him back to you for another kiss, “I'm sure I'll like it.” 

#astarion #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #bg3 #bg3 astarion

[runnning-outof-time]

I’m (Not) Alright with a Slow Burn | Tommy Shelby x Reader headcanons

Request: yes by anonymous

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader (headcanons)

Summary: How Tommy would go about being stuck in a slow burn with someone he's falling for.

Warnings: mention of death of grandmother, slight season 2 spoilers

Word Count: 2537

A/N: I really enjoyed this request! umm…I’m not sure if these are 100% written like headcanons - I wrote them like I was spewing out ideas lol. Kacey Musgraves’s song Slow Burn was also running through my head while I was writing this, hence the title. Also how the hell do you actually spell headcanons?? Is there 1 ‘n’ or 2?? Lol . Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message me if you want to be tagged!

• (Y/N) was one of the few Shelby Company Ltd. employees that Tommy didn't hire. She was brought on board while he and the boys were off at one of the races. Polly saw the potential in her and immediately welcomed her into the company.

• when Tommy returned from said races, he was pleasantly surprised to meet her.

• and Polly clocked that immediately. She was able to tell by the lack of a fight - Tommy was always able to find something to pick at when she made decisions within the company, no matter how minuscule. But there was nothing to pick at with (Y/N).

• Polly also wasn't surprised to see (Y/N) completing more and more tasks that came directly from Tommy. They'd be tasks that Polly hadn't even known about...but for some reason Tommy trusted (Y/N) with them.

• (Y/N) didn't think anything different about it. She'd been hired into the company and one of her bosses was asking her to do things. That's what was supposed to happen, right?

• although she did find it odd that it was Tommy asking her to do these things when she'd originally been hired to help Polly with sorting out the books and the like.

• things persisted like that for a few months. (Y/N) would happily and eagerly help him with whatever he needed to have done around the company. He'd look out for her, making sure that she was happy in her position and just in general. And in return, (Y/N) would (try) to keep up the same for him. She'd show that in the smallest of ways and attempts, but he would notice. Over those few months and because of those small acts, Tommy's thoughts and feelings towards (Y/N) evolved.

• he can still remember the day when that switch began - because it haunted him every day after.

• she came into his office like it was any other day for her...but it wasn't any other day for Tommy.

• he'd been working under Campbell for a few weeks at that point, and it'd become apparent that he'd be dead at the end of the arrangement. Tommy wasn't afraid to die, but the thought of getting everything in order and making sure his family could go on without him was now plaguing his mind.

• so when (Y/N) asked him what he had for her to do today, Tommy rattled off his list without as much as looking up at her. He was fully expecting her to turn and exit the second he finished speaking.

• she didn't. Silence reigned for a moment or two before "are you ok, Tommy?" came quietly from her. This made Tommy look up, and when he did, all of the noise in his mind ceased. Sure he looked at her before - he'd looked up like this thousands of times, but he never saw her like he did when he looked up this time. It was this otherworldly experience that he'd only been through twice before. Which meant he knew exactly what was happening.

• even though he brushed her question off and told her that he was fine, he hoped that things wouldn't change between them.

• and thankfully they didn't because hell, Tommy Shelby was certain that he was falling in love.

• he began testing the waters carefully at first. (Y/N) was a good woman and he wasn't about to make her leave the company due to his actions. He couldn't stand to lose her.

• so he started by making sure she was being heard; by actually listening to her whenever she'd share ideas or tell him how things played out with what he'd asked her to do.

• then he emphasized making sure that she was safe - having blinders on her block, sticking around on the days where she and Polly would be in the shop tallying the winnings, and also personally offering to take her wherever she needed to go.

• (Y/N) reacted bashfully to these offers. She felt that the other company employees would think that she was getting special treatment or something — well...she kind of was...but she deeply appreciated Tommy doing these things.

• in regards to feelings, Tommy was putting his out there as best as he could (which, well I'll let you be the one to decide on how well that is) He really tried to make a more personal connection with her; to get to know her as her and not just another employee...and in turn he let her know him.

• (Y/N) stayed professional. He was one of her bosses after all. But she couldn't deny that she enjoyed being in his presence. Her friends found that crazy, too...how can she be happy to be spending time with Tommy Shelby? She swore it off as strictly work related until she couldn't anymore.

• the evening started like any other...(Y/N) went home after work with the intention of doing what she did every other evening. But something was waiting for her at home. Something that turned her world upside-down. She found out that her grandmother had passed away. The post had come and one of the letters was from a sibling of hers, sharing the news. She didn't know what to do.

• after exhausting all of her options, she found herself at the Garrison. Tommy had invited her there in the past, but she never accepted it due to wanting to stay professional.

• she asked around for him and the second she found out that he was in the snug, she made her way to it and opened the door. He was in there, but so were his brothers. "This was the last place I could think of," she blurted out. "Everyone out," was all Tommy needed to say before it was just the two of them in the room.

• (Y/N) quickly sat and let everything out. Tommy listened intently, something no one had ever done for her in the past. They sat in the snug for hours, (Y/N) talking and Tommy listening. Her ability to share her grandmother's story helped her immensely.

• from that evening, (Y/N) saw Tommy in a different light. The fact that he sat and listened to her as she lamented to him and not once did he even think of leaving meant the world to her. No one had shown her that sort of worthiness or attention.

• all at once it felt like she was head over heels for him. Like all of those little instances he'd shown her before had all culminated into this one, major display of devotion. It had her realizing that maybe it wasn't solely because she was his employee...maybe it was much more than that.

• and so when he went out of his way and made sure to check on her the next morning - she knew this because Polly commented on the fact that he was supposed to be in London by sun-up - and he couldn't get him off of her mind no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't beat around the bush anymore...she'd fallen for Tommy Shelby, hard.

• but things didn't hit off right from that moment.

• no, it took a rather long time for those feelings to actually come out.

• there was a lot of dancing around the other - the smaller gestures and moments still occurred, but neither one was willing to make that jump over the edge and confront the other about it.

• yes, you read that right...Tommy Shelby was actually keeping his feelings for her close to the chest.

• mostly it was because of the position they were in. He'd offer to take her to dinner and she'd politely decline (even though she really wanted to go) because she was worried the other company employees would suspect something.

• Tommy wasn't exactly into the dancing around it (he hated it at times actually), but he honored her choice.

• but that doesn't mean he wasn't taking every chance he got to spend time around her. To check in on her and see how things were. To walk her home if she stayed later. Anything to show her that he was serious...without actually saying that he was serious.

• he was hooked on her though, there was no doubt about it. All he needed was for her to really show that interest back to him, and then he'd know for sure that he could act on it.

• and then Polly's birthday came.

• the company/family decided to host a party at the Garrison. Of course (Y/N) was invited.

• a man named Louis was one of the men who worked the shop floor daily. He saw (Y/N) almost every day that she was also on the floor, and he made it a point to seek her out as well.

• much like with Tommy, (Y/N) kept things between her and Louis strictly professional.

• but this party is when Louis decided that he was going to make his move...to try and woo her.

• maybe he should have thought this through...

• (Y/N) was sitting at one of the tables, chatting with some of the other women who worked within the company. It was a surprise that she wasn't with Tommy, considering he sought her out almost immediately after she arrived. But Tommy was still present though.

• Louis had this plan to put everything right on the table. He smoothly walked over to her and, equally as smoothly, slipped into the booth that she was sitting in. (Y/N) was polite, but it was obvious that she wasn't feeding any more into it than a simple, friendly conversation.

• but of course Tommy didn't pick up on that. From where he was standing it looked like Louis was a little too close to her for comfort. So he quickly intervened.

• and he was anything but subtle with it. He was quickly able to make Louis feel uneasy and clear him out.

• (Y/N)'s confused, but happy to have the man she'd hardly talked to gone. She sends Tommy an appreciative smile and that's just about enough to bring Tommy to his knees. But that doesn't happen...instead he gives her one of his signature, lop-sided smiles and nods at the ladies sitting with her before going back to where he previously was.

• this interaction didn't go unnoticed though. Polly and Ada were watching from off to the side. These two know Tommy better than anyone, and they've rarely seen him react this quickly and in this sort of way. So it's glaringly apparent to them that something's going on here.

• and this becomes increasingly apparent as time goes on.

• also as time goes on, (Y/N) manages to move up in the company. She's basically right underneath Polly in terms of power, becoming her 'right hand man’ in the treasurer position.

• having this position means that she's more involved in the inner circle and is at all of the meetings.

• the entire family swears by the fact that Tommy is softer with her than he is with anyone else.

• you can literally see the change the second she shares her thoughts on a matter or even enters a room. The switch is practically on a dime.

• but these two keep dancing around each other - they've been doing it for close to a year at this point.

• and those who know of it are baffled. They are obviously in love with each other...why hasn't one budged and made things official?

• the suspicions on this topic all come to a climax on the first year anniversary of (Y/N) joining the company.

• Tommy invites her out to dinner. (Y/N) agrees this time mostly because she knows what day it is...and she knows that the Shelbys like to celebrate such things.

• but she's surprised when she arrives at the upscale restaurant and is escorted to a table for two. Tommy can't help but smile at the face she pulls when she sees that he's sitting there, waiting for her.

• but she gets comfortable very quickly. It's Tommy we're talking about here...she's never been more comfortable with anyone in her life if she was being honest. And the same goes for him too.

• the dinner lasts hours. They talk about everything and anything. Work's off the table, but yet they still manage to not have more than a moment of silence. Both are surprised at how freely the conversation flows.

• eventually Tommy brings up the subject they've been dancing around.

• he lays everything out on the table this time. There's no sense in holding back. He tells her how she makes him feel, how she's made him feel from the moment he first saw her.

• he also mentions the fact that he's felt this way for a while now, and that he can't continue dancing around it any longer. He honored her desire to stay professional for this time, but he wants her too much, loves her too much to keep going like this for even a day longer.

• at first (Y/N)'s shocked. She's not oblivious...she'd been catching the little hints that he'd been leaving all this time, but she was truthfully too hesitant to ever bring the subject up to him.

• but now that he's put it out there, she figures why should she hold back her feelings any longer?

• so she lays it all out for him as well. Tells him how she feels about him, how she's felt about him for some time now.

• Tommy can't contain his happiness as he hears this. He's grinning like a fool.

• so really there's only one last thing for them to do now...make it official.

• Tommy wastes no time in doing that.

• he asks her properly though. That's what she deserves, especially after all this time that's been invested.

• he stops them just down the road from where she lives. He tells her that he really likes her (he won't use the 'l word' just yet - even though the two of them are so clearly in love) and that he can't wait a moment longer to make her his.

• (Y/N) quickly agrees with the sentiment after everything that had been shared during their dinner.

• Tommy can't help but smile at her response, and he just barely nods his head in his Tommy fashion before continuing to walk her home.

• they share their first kiss at the front door, and it's absolutely magical.

• they then proceed to do a terrible job of hiding it while at work. Tommy's waited this long to be with her, he's not going hide his affection for her any longer.

• their definition of 'in secret' is soooo far from the actual definition. They think that they're being sneaky, only stealing kisses in empty hallways and in Tommy's office, but it takes Polly literally only two days to catch onto it.

• no ones upset with it though. Honestly everyone’s happy that they’re finally together.

• well everyone except Louis…Louis is a little bummed about the whole thing. But Tommy and (Y/N) don’t care about that in the slightest.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby headcanons #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders x you #peaky blinders headcanon #tommy shelby headcanon #peaky blinders headcanons #fanfiction #fanfic

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Holy shit, y’all are insane. My tag list is over a HUNDRED (wtf y’all I’m kissing every single one of you on the forehead it was EIGHT before this) and the first part got over 800 notes in 24 hours. I love y’all 😂 With that being said though, Tumblr only allows for 50 mentions per post. So I’m drafting another post with the other 50-odd mentions that I’ll link this to. Unfortunately I’m not willing to make more than two posts, meaning my tag list is officially CLOSED. I’m so sorry, y’all, please know I love every single one of you SO much!! If you’d like to follow along and didn’t make it onto the taglist, go ahead and follow the ‘#if I should stay’ tag. I’ll make sure to use this tag for every update! Thank you all SO SO MUCH!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ and if you want to be dropped from the taglist, that’s fine too; just let me know! ❤️

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Steve is terrified.

Honestly, after the Russians and the Upside Down and everything else, Steve thought he’d never be scared again.

Then he woke up in school in 1984.

He looks around, wide-eyed, only to stop when Tommy and Carol look at him weirdly. “Uh, Steve?” Carol asks. “You look like you’re about to puke.”

Full of tact, just like always. He shakes off the feeling of wrong crawling on his skin and smiles at her. “I’m fine,” he says, when nothing could be further from the truth.

She opens her mouth to respond. Steve breathes a sigh of relief when the bell goes off, only for him to realize he has no idea where he’s going.

Thank God for Carol, apparently, because she throws her head back with a groan. “Math,” she complains. “I hate math.”

Steve feels a zing of recognition dart through him. He had English while she was in math. They used to complain about it between classes.

He feels excited when he realizes Robin will be in this class, then just as suddenly excitement turns to nausea when he realizes she might not remember him.

He walks into class, trying to keep his hopes down, and briefly makes eye contact with her.

She’s doodling in a notebook, looking around the room. Their eyes meet.

Robin’s pencil lead snaps.

Steve freezes.

He opens his mouth, he’s not sure for what, but she shakes her head slightly.

She stands and makes her way towards him before her eyes flutter back in her head and she drops.

She would’ve fallen on the ground if he hadn’t caught her. Whispers start up, enough to get the teacher to look up. “Mr. Harrington,” she says. “I’m not sure what dance moves you think you’re trying, but I will remind you this is an English classroom.”

“Yes ma’am,” he says. “Um. She passed out. I think I should probably take her to the nurse.”

She leans over her desk to peer first at Steve, then at Robin, who still has her eyes closed. “Very well,” she says. “I’ll give you a hall pass. Please ensure she returns once her little spell has worn off.”

He nods, shifts Robin completely into his arms, and walks out of the classroom.

He walks down the hallway and stops by an empty classroom, darting in when nobody’s looking. “Robs,” he chokes, and her arms are around his neck and now he’s choking for an entirely different reason.

She’s shaking, and he feels hot tears land on his shoulder, and he knows she feels the same from his tears. “I thought-”

“I know,” Steve whispers. “I thought the same. I woke up and I was with Tommy and Carol again and I didn’t know what was going on and I was terrified you weren’t gonna remember me.”

“Jesus,” she says. She’s laughing a little, through her tears. “Imagine how I felt, waking up in Mrs. Click’s class. Thought I’d had a weird fever dream. Then you walked in, and…”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Jesus, Robs, I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Right back atcha, Dingus,” she whispers, which really just makes his tears start all over again. “Who else do you think knows?”

Steve sighs. “I don’t know. And other than asking them, and risking getting sent to a padded room…”

“Yeah.” Robin sighs.

“Oh, fuck,” Steve says, tensing up.

“What?”

“I’m pretty sure I’m still with Nancy.”

I tried to tag everyone who wanted it… I’m so sorry if I missed you! Once again I’m so sorry about closing the taglist. Thank you for understanding! ❤️

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @andienotannie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @local-writers-corner @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

@paperbackribs @ninjapirateunicorns @bisexualdisastersworld @hiscrimsonangel @lolawonsstuff @xo-r4e @thedragonsaunt @l0st-strawberry

Fic Taglist: @blondlanfear @do-you-want-something-more @little-gae-shit

Me @ all of you:

#if I should stay #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #platonic stobin #robin buckley #we gonna see Nancy pretty soon here #also Jonathan #maybe #also I have no idea how the timeline works #starambles