#she pulled that dress out from the bottom of her closet
KAIA MORGAN @ Gallagher’s NYE Party
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your mess | p.p
summary: peter got drunk at flash's party and you have to take care of him.
word count: 6.2k
warnings: talks of sex (like a lot, when I say a lot I mean a lot), smutty scenes, underage drinking, kisses get heated, peter almost mentally scars tony.
notes: it's an alternative version of my other fanfiction: drunk mess!! i won't be posting anything until next year (yeah, not even blurbs). so happy holidays and I'll come back with something I've been planning for a long time ;)
"Fucking hell." You groaned, your eyes fluttering open at the shrill ringing of your phone, pushing yourself up on your elbows as you turned to reach it.
Your fingers brushed against the cool surface of your night stand, an annoyed huff escaping your lips as you grab a hold of your phone, squinting at the sharp light of the bright screen.
You rolled your eyes as MJ's name flashed on the screen with a picture that you took of her when you went to Europe a few years ago. You quickly accepted the call, pressing the phone to your ear.
"What?" You rubbed your eyes as you sat up, annoyance seeping from your words as you pushed your back against the headboard, clutching the blankets close to your chest as a shiver shot up your spine.
“Hi Y/n—?” MJ called out, you winced, pushing the phone away from your ear. You could still clearly hear the howls, the loud music and the cheerful screams from the other side.“—yeah? Hello? Sorry, there is—fuck, you need to pick your mess up."
"You know, your boyfriend?" MJ said. You bit your bottom lip, a frown settling on your face. "I—yeah. He's drunk. Like drunk drunk."
"Peter is drunk?" Your eyes widened as the words left your mouth, still trying to process the information. You quickly pushed off your blankets, setting your feet down on the floor. You hissed at the cold touch of the marble floor as you switched on the light.
"Yeah, blame the college friends." MJ grumbled. "But that's not the point. You need to pick him up. I can't deal with him anymore."
"Aww, you are such a good friend." You muttered, rolling your eyes as your fingers gripped your hair roughly, trying to tame the mess.
"I love him, alright?" She retorted, an exasperated sigh escaping her lips. "But I don't appreciate him trying to grope and kiss my boyfriend."
"Apparently," You heard Flash mumble from the other side, a cry of protest leaving MJ's lips which was drowned out by the noise. "He is very horny when he is drunk. MJ's words not mine."
"Yeah. I'll be there. Just–just keep him away from people." You reached for the handle of your closet, pulling out a jacket from the top rack. You bit your lip as you glanced down at yourself, regretting falling asleep in the dress you wore today. It was already cold enough. "Especially, like any girl or guy. Just–take care of him okay?"
"Yeah, don't worry." Flash reassured you. "Peter is doing that himself, he just shooed a girl away because she wasn't you."
"He shooed a girl away?"
MJ chuckled. "Yeah, he did, the look on her face was to fucking die for–wait, Peter, no—"
And she hung up.
"Fucking idiot." You muttered to yourself as you pocketed your car keys, putting on your shoes. "Just had to get his ass drunk, didn't he?" You shut your door behind yourself, zipping up your jacket as you crossed the distance between your room and the front door. "Asshole."
"It's late." You jerked your head around at your dad's voice. Your hand stilling on the doorknob. "Where to?"
You inhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over your face. "Going to pick Peter up from a party."
"He's at a party?" He glanced at his watch. "It's late–you didn't go?"
"No," you shook your head, your fingers fiddling with the hem of the skirt of your dress, "wasn't in the mood. but, he got drunk so I have to pick him up now–isn't it impossible for him to get drunk or something?"
"Well," Tony shrugged. "Not impossible, not if he had a lot to drink."
"I am going to kill him." You replied flatly, opening the door.
"Easy there," He chuckled, holding up his hand. "Don't yell at the poor kid when he's drunk."
"I am not going to do that. I'll just text May after I get him home."
"That's evil." He gasped.
"Yep," You let out a dry laugh. "I'll go pick him up."
Tony nodded. "Yeah, I want to see him. You've been hoarding all of my Peter time."
"Your Peter time?" You rolled your eyes at him. "He's my boyfriend, dad!"
Tony laughed, leaning against the wall. "Get the kid home."
Nodding your head, you made your way downstairs, getting into the car. You regretted not going along with him to Flash's party. He had insisted on you coming with him. He didn't want to go alone. And he couldn't not go because he promised Harry.
Still, you didn't think he'd get drunk. Not that you minded, you were just grateful that he had his friends there to take care of him. It might as well be a nice 'college experience' as your dad put it when you and Peter started college.
You've gotten drunk a lot while you were with him. And he was always the designated driver, he always stayed sober so he could take care of you which you appreciated. So, you were happy he was finally letting loose and having fun.
A part of you couldn't wait to see how he acted when he was drunk.
You pulled in the driveway of Flash's house. You locked the door, quickly making your way inside the house. Your heart thumped in your chest at the speed of light, the music pounding in your ears.
“Hey–" You glanced at MJ, your eyes growing wide at the sight. Her hair a mess, sticking to her face and neck, her mascara smeared near the edges of her eyes. You sighed, clutching your jacket tighter around yourself as she waved at you. "Hi!"
You pushed through the crowd, rolling your eyes as you bumped into sweaty bodies, mumbling a couple of 'sorry's and 'excuse me's as you walked over to MJ, her arm slung over the white railing of the stairs.
"Where is he–?" You eyed her, knitting your brows in confusion as she offered you a dazed smile, her fingers combing through her hair roughly. "What happened to you?"
"Nothing." She laughed nervously, fixing her black jacket, crossing her arms over her chest as she shrugged. "Why do you ask?"
"You look like a mess." You replied flatly. "Anyway, where is he?"
"I may have...lost him."
"I am sorry, okay?" She held up her hand, wiping her smudged lipstick from her chin absent-mindedly. "I got busy."
"What the fuck were you doing–?"
"MJ!" Flash appeared, his hands clutching the railings on the top of the staircase. He eyed MJ with annoyance, cocking his brow at her as she shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. "Did you just have sex?" He gritted through his teeth, his face twisting with disgust. "In my room?"
MJ looked up, letting out an annoyed huff. "We were just—"
"Not even the guest room—"
"Harry was already in your room and–"
"Harry, you disgusting bitch." Flash took a deep breath, glancing at you but then turning his attention to MJ. "Fuck you, MJ. Where is he?"
"I don't know." She shrugged. "He went to look for Peter."
"And, where is he?" You asked.
Flash looked down at you, letting go off the railing, his hand falling limp by his side. "I saw him near the kitchen, like, an hour ago."
"Yeah, go." MJ cracked a smile, glancing at the living room. "Make sure he isn't whoring around."
“God, MJ. Don’t say that about my boyfriend.”
You made it to the kitchen, shivering at the cool breeze as you glanced at the open glass doors, leading outside to the outdoor pool. You whipped your head around as you heard a loud cheer only to find a couple of people gathered near the kitchen. Peter was sitting on the stool, leaning back against the counter, two bottles of beer dangling from his hands.
"Yes, I can drink this–" he took a sip from the beer bottle, letting out a sigh as he pushed the empty bottle in Harry's hand who was standing beside him, "–and more." He nodded towards the other beer bottle.
Your breath got caught in your throat as a girl leaned towards him, her hair tickling his face as he tried to push it off.
"You know," She purred, pressing her hand on his shoulder. "You look really hot while—"
"No." Peter pushed off her hand, not ever bothering to look at her. He brushed off her hair from his shoulder. "Shoo."
Harry winced, covering his mouth to muffle his laughter as a guy leaned towards Peter, completely enamored by the bottle of beer.
"Man, you should be dead, or like, alcohol poisoning." He shook his head, adjusting his cap. "Or some shit like that. How are you doing that?"
"I just have a higher alcohol tolerance than most–" His eyes lit up as he caught your eyes, a smile spreading across his lips as he held up his hands, making a grabbing motion with his fingers. "Baby!"
You rolled your eyes, walking over to him as you shot Harry a glare. You quickly slipped off your jacket as you eyed his thin shirt, he wasn't even shivering but it was fucking cold.
"You shouldn't be drinking so much." You snatched the bottle from his hands, ignoring his cry of protest as you set the bottle down on the counter. You touched his cheek, pushing his curls back from his forehead. "God, you're cold. Where is your jacket–peter!"
You yelped as he pulled you down on his lap, leaning back on the stool as your hands came up to his chest, gripping his thin shirt as you peered up at him. His hand holding onto your waist, holding you close to him.
"You look so pretty." He whispered as his calloused fingers caressed your cheeks, your cheeks warming as he leaned closer, his curls falling on his forehead. "So pretty for me."
"Y-yeah." You pushed his hand off, glancing at Harry who wiggled his eyebrows, nodding at you. You rolled your eyes, clutching your jacket to your chest. "It's cold, Pete. Take my jacket—"
"Shots, guys." A girl walked in, several glasses of shots on a tray as she offered them.
She raised the tray towards you and you shook your head, offering her a polite smile and she shrugged, turning away.
"I'll take one." Peter said, taking the glass. Before you could protest he brought the glass to your lips and finished the liquid in a matter of seconds. The crowd cheered and you looked at your boyfriend, stunned.
“Are you okay?” You asked as you took the glass from him, wiping the remaining liquid from his lips. "You've never drunk so much before."
“I am fine, y/n." He giggled, his hand sliding up your bare thigh, making you shiver in his arms. He brought his lips to your ear, kissing your neck softly as his hand traveled up, touching your inner thigh. “I am having fun.”
“Peter.” You closed your legs, trapping his hand in between your thighs as you looked around, hoping that nobody noticed. But that would be impossible considering you're literally sitting in the middle of a small crowd. You quickly covered your lap with the jacket, shooting him a glare. "You're drunk."
“I am not." He mumbled, pressing a sloppy kiss on your neck as his hand jerked up. You hissed as his cold watch rubbed against your thigh.
“You're really drunk." You pointed out, nodding at the beer bottles and he breathed out a laugh.
"You know I can't get drunk–
“But you are–”
“If I was drunk would I be doing this?" He chuckled against your lips, pressing his fingers against the edges of your panties and you gasped, pulling his hand out.
"Not what I thought but that's exactly what you would do if you were drunk. Which you are." You said, interlocking your fingers together as he whined. "I've never seen you be this forward with me." You giggled. "What did you do to my shy peter?"
He hummed in response, kissing your cheek. "Let me touch you, baby."
"We're in public for fuck's sake."
"If you both are done fucking on the stool," a girl, the same girl who was flirting with peter appeared, rolling her eyes. "I need a drink, care to move aside?"
“Okay." You slipped off from his lap, taking his hand, helping him stand up as he let out an annoyed huff, glancing back at the beer bottles. "We’re going home now.”
He whined, tugging at your skirt.
“You are drunk, babe. I don’t want you to get sick." You rubbed circles on the back of his hand with your thumb. "Please?"
“Fine” He pouted, slipping on your jacket, hugging it close to him as he glanced back. “Bye, guys.”
You inhaled sharply, turning to Harry. "Flash is looking for you. It's late, are you going to stay?"
"Yeah, probably." He glanced at his watch. "I'll have to help Flash with cleaning up after it's all over."
"Don't worry about her, I'll drop her off soon." He said, nodding at Peter. "Get his ass home."
"He's a mess." You laughed, kissing his cheek.
"A horny mess." Harry chuckled.
"Your mess, though." Peter kissed your neck and you patted his head.
"Yeah, my mess."
"Cool, take him home, I guess." The girl from before shrugged, sipping on a solo cup as you rolled your eyes, smiling politely at her anyways.
"Yeah, I will." You said firmly, ignoring the pang of jealousy as her eyes raked over your boyfriend who was leaning on you, playing with your hair.
“Fuck, you look so cute when you are jealous.” He giggled, kissing the tip of your nose as you led him to the door.
“I am not jealous.” You grumbled as he stopped in his tracks, pulling you back into his chest, his arms circling around your waist.
He pushed you against the bathroom door, which was right under the staircase. His hands trailed down your arms, making you shudder as you screw your eyes shut. His feather light touch caused warmth to spread under your skin like a wildfire. You reluctantly let out a whimper as his hands pushed past the hem of your skirt, his fingers crawling up your thigh. "So desperate for me," he chuckled, breathing against your neck, making your skin tingle. "all for me, sweetheart?"
You pulled away, wide-eyed, your hands clasped his wrist. He knitted his brows, a frown settling on his face as you press his hand back to his side, shaking your head as you glanced at the door. "We need to go home."
"You're right." He surprisingly complied, licking his lips as he eyed the front door. "You can't give me a blowjob in Flash's dirty bathroom." He wrinkled his nose as he patted the door. "Ew, we can do it when we get home."
"I swear to fucking god." Flash called out, leaning over the railing. "If you have sex in my bathroom–"
"Blowjob." Peter corrected him.
You quickly covered his mouth with your hand, letting out a cry of protest as he licked your palm. You scrunched your face up in disgust as you wiped your hand on his jacket.
“Why are you complaining about me licking your hand?” He cocked an eyebrow at you, “I’ve literally licked your cunt.”
You gasped. “Peter-”
"Whatever filthy shit you're planning to do." He nearly shrieked, waving his hand dismissively. "I'll kill you. I'll kill you dead. Get your horny ass home."
"Right." You muttered, slipping your hand in his as you pulled him out of the house, leaning into him as you shivered in the coolness of the night.
"Aren't you cold?" He asked, nuzzling his face in your neck and you shrugged, kissing his temple.
"I am but–I can't have you get sick so you take the jacket, yeah?" You smiled at him, pulling him to your chest. "You're too annoying when you are sick." You teased, rubbing your arms with your warm hands.
"Am I troubling you?" He asked sincerely, his eyes wide and full of love as he stared down at you when you reached the car. "I am sorry, y/n/n. You didn't need to pick me up. I should be responsible–"
"You're no trouble." You smiled, zipping up his jacket up to his chin. "You're allowed to have fun sometimes. And it's my job to take care of you so shut up." You patted his cheek. "And let me take care of you, okay?"
"Fuck yeah." He breathed out a laugh as he leaned against the door of the car. "Now that we have a car–wanna fuck here?"
You groaned, laughing nonetheless as he wiggled his eyebrows, motioning towards the ground. "Get on your knees, y/n."
"You get in the car, you asshole." You laughed, pushing him aside as you opened the door.
"We can't do it–"
“Why not?” He eyed you, glancing at the backseat of the car. He moved forward, pulling you closer by your wrist.
“I promise you, you'll look like the prettiest little angel with my cock stuffed in your mouth." He whispered, his tongue poking out to lick a stripe up your throat. You resisted the urge to melt in his arms as you tried to pull away from his grip. "Gonna look so fucking delicious with your lips wrapped around my cock."
"Peter." Your cheeks heated up as you pushed him away, motioning towards the car. "Get in, fuck, your being too forward tonight."
"Baby." He caught your wrist, pressing kisses on the back of your hand. "You can take me in the back of the car. I'll let you do anything to me."
“Anything?” You purred, pulling away from him as he nodded eagerly. He brushed the stray hair out of your face as you nibbled your bottom lip as suggestively as you could.
“Anything.” He whimpered against your lips as he pressed himself against you and you let out a soft giggle, your nails scratching the back of his neck lightly.
“You’re going to sit in the car. Shut up and let me drive.” His eyes widened in shock, gasping at your betrayal dramatically as you pushed him in the passenger seat.
He whined, pouting and jutting out his bottom lip, trying his best to look like a kicked puppy. You rolled your eyes, helping him buckle up his seat belt. He sighed and busied yourself in peppering kisses on your neck as you leaned over him.
You pulled away, giving you a stern look and he groaned in annoyance, pulling at the seat belt as your hand brushed against the bulge forming in his jeans by accident. You locked eyes with him and he offered you a cheeky grin.
"Shut up." You shut the door, walking over to your side. You slid inside the driver's seat as he grinned at you.
"I didn't say anything." He mumbled, leaning over to kiss your lips but you pushed him away.
"Fuck off." You dusted the skirt of your dress, starting the car.
“Y/n!" He whined, shifting in his seat as you sighed, eyes trained on the road ahead.
“You don’t want to kiss me anymore.” He let out a puff of air, his eyes almost brimming with tears as you laughed, glancing at him.
“I am driving, sweetheart. I can't–”
Your words get caught in your throat as his hand brushed against your bare thigh. He sucked in a breath, his fingers teasing your skin as he trailed up his fingers to pull the hem of your dress up, ducking to get a look.
"You're even wearing my favorite panties, y/n." He said, wide-eyes, mouth agape in awe. "Let me touch you please–"
You slapped his hand away, adjusting your dress as he gasped, staring at you in disbelief.
“You are not attracted to me anymore.” He scoffed, turning away from you and resting his forehead on the glass window. He sniffed, rubbing his nose as he sunk in his seat, his fingers fiddling with the sleeve of his jacket.
You glanced at him as you pulled in the parking lot of his apartment building. "I am–"
“I don’t turn you on anymore. I get it.” He whimpered, wiping his eyes as you bit your lip to muffle your laughter. You placed a hesitant hand on his shoulder, trying to regain your composure.
“Fuck, Peter." You ruffled his curls, pressing your cold hand against his neck to get his attention. "What am I gonna do with you?”
“Sit on my face?" He suggested and you puffed out a laugh, glancing at him as you giggled, your hand gripping the steering wheel.
"Your dad isn’t home, right?” He glanced out of the window. "Even if he is, we'll just lock the door and I'll stuff your panties in your mouth to keep you quiet."
“You...you can't say things like that, Peter." You breathed, your body growing hot at his words but you suppressed it. "Besides, we're at May's apartment not my dad's."
"And May isn't home." His lips twitched into a smile. "I don't even have to gag you, might do it just for fun, though. Make you taste yourself."
“Shut up!” You inhaled sharply, heat rushing to your cheeks.
“Won’t you like it, pretty girl?" His voice dropped to a whisper as he leaned closer. "Gonna treat you like my good girl. Or if you want, might be your good boy tonight. Whatever my girl wants.”
“And we are here.” You ignored his words, wiping your face as you got out of the car. You jogged over to the other side, wrapping your arm around yourself as you opened the door for him. You laughed as he narrowed his eyes at you, bowing as you beckoned him to get out of the car. “My prince?”
He unfastened his seat belt, glancing at you from the corner of his eyes as he stepped out, shutting the door behind him. “I’d rather be called your slut but you don’t want me anymore.”
You breathed heavily, avoiding his gaze as you licked your chapped lips. You took his hand, leaning against his chest for warmth as you locked the door.
“Y-you're—” You cleared your throat as you stuffed the keys in his hoodie pocket, screwing your eyes shut as he wrapped his arms around you despite his sulking. “I hate you.”
“Calling me your slut gets you wet, baby?” You shook your head, pulling away from him but he pressed himself against you, feeling your curves.“You can call me anything. I’d be your slut if you want me to. I’ll be all yours.”
“God, Peter.” Your voice wavered as you placed a hand on his chest, looking up at him hesitantly as you pressed the button of the elevator. “Keep your voice down, someone might hear you.”
“There you go again!” He snapped at you, annoyed as he leaned back on the wall as he unzipped his hoodie, breathing heavily. “Why don’t you want me anymore?"
“I want ypu, trust me. I do—” You rolled your eyes, stepping into the elevator, pulling him in by his arm.The elevator doors shut with a finalizing thud and you continued. “But I can’t.”
"Why not? Don't I use my...stick right?" He sniffed, dropping his head against the wall. "You want to break up with me because I am not good at sex, don't you?"
"Did you just call your dick...a fucking stick?" You stared at him, flabbergasted at his wording.
“Tell me why we can’t fuck in the elevator?” He ignored your words, peering down at you as you sighed, holding up your hand.
“We just can’t.”
“I’ll let you fuck yourself down on my face." He said, glancing down at your legs. His eyes trailing up to your covered tits, he licked his lips.
“Gonna fuck you with my tongue while you're crying out on top of me." He said, pulling you to him. His hands trailed up your waist, up to your tits. He gave it a quick squeeze, his thumb pressing against the pebbled nipple. "Wanna eat that pussy, baby."
You pulled yourself out of his grip, but not before he dropped a feather light kiss on your neck, knocking all the air out of your lungs. You never saw him be so forward. You had your fair share of good night’s tangled in the sheets but he has never been so…vocal about how he felt. And if you were being honest, this was the hottest thing ever.
The elevator dinged as it opened on the seventh floor and you scurried out, pulling him out by tugging at his jacket. You pulled the keys out of his jeans pocket pushing the key into the lock.
He pressed himself behind you, his large hands pressing your hips back to his as he leaned down, his lips brushing against your neck as you shivered.
“Are you wet right now, baby?" He whispered, biting your earlobe. He peppered kisses down your neck, biting your sensitive skin.
“You are, aren’t you? If you are not going to touch me, will you touch yourself tonight?" He nibbled on your skin, licking the bruise forming on your skin. "Gonna put on a show for me?"
You quickly pushed the door open, walking in and shutting the door behind him. He pouted as you helped you take off his jacket, you took off your shoes, locking the door.
“We can literally have sex anywhere you want. The living room. Kitchen. The foot of my bed—”
“The foot of your bed?”
“We can try that.” He shrugged and you rolled your eyes.
Peter sighed, his shoulders dropping in defeat as he plopped down on the bed, burying his face in the blanket as his feet dangled from the edge of the bed.
You walked in, a glass of water in your hands. "Hey, sit up."
He craned his neck, smiling softly as he found you standing near the foot of the bed. He pulled himself up, accepting the glass from you with a polite smile. "Thank you, y/n."
"Drink up, sweetheart." You kissed his temple, running your fingers through his curls in order to tame the mess. He hummed leaning in your touch as he brought the glass to his lips, emptying it in a matter of seconds.
He handed you the glass and you placed it near his desk. You kissed his forehead, massaging his scalp with your fingers as he let out a sigh of content. "Feeling good?"
"Fucking euphoric." He moaned, dropping his head against your chest and you laughed, tapping his shoulder.
“Have you ever thought about me tying you to bed with my webs?" He wondered out loud as your eyes widened.
“Fuck, Peter.” You inhaled sharply, averting your eyes from him as he chuckled.
“Yes please. Fuck Peter.” He muttered as you rolled your eyes, wiping his mouth with the back of your hand as he giggled, clutching your hand to his lips and you sighed.
“No. We are not going to have sex tonight.”
"Please?" His pout flattered as you shook your head, patting his cheek.
“Come on.” You said as you walked over to the closet, pulling out a pair of sweatpants and shirt from the top rack. You placed the clothes down on the bed beside him. “Go get changed.”
“I can’t.” He muttered, stubborn.
“What do you mean?”
“I can’t get changed by myself.” He nibbled on his bottom lip, trying his best to maintain his innocent composure and you narrowed your eyes at him.
“You aren't that drunk–”
“I can’t take care of myself. Please take my clothes off.” He pleaded, a mischievous glint in his eyes that you tried your best to ignore as he raised his hands, making it easy for you to slip off his shirt. You pulled the shirt over his head, combing through his messy curls, trying to tame them.
He stretched out his arms, his abs flexing as he dropped back on the bed, his arms spread out.
“Can you not do that?” You spluttered and he raised an eyebrow at you, pointing at his abs, flexing them again much to your liking.
“You can touch them if you want." He offered and you shook your head, getting to your knees in front of him.
“Your loss." He shrugged and you sighed, undoing his shoelaces. You took off his shoes, placing them aside. You pulled off his socks, rolling them up and tossing them in the laundry basket.
"My jeans now." He mumbled and you chuckled, moving in between his legs as your fingers went up to his zipper hesitantly, unzipping his jeans.
"Now we're talking." He propped himself up on his elbows, looking down at you with a smug smile plastered on his face. "Such a good girl. Looking like an angel on her knees for me, aren't you?"
You bit your lip, slipping off his jeans, sliding them down his legs as he sighed. "Gonna suck me off, baby?"
"Peter." You stood up to your full height, pulling out his phone and wallet from his pocket and placing them on the bedside table.
"Want me to fuck your face?" He brought his hand down to caress your cheeks, tipping your chin up with his finger. "Make me cum?"
Your cheeks heated up as you pulled away. "For fuck's sake, shut up!"
“But it’s true, Y/n. I want you to make me cum so bad.”
“Please, Y/n. I'm so hard right now.” He pulled him down, over him. He pressed up against you, a groan of pleasure escaping his lips as he rocked his hips against you. You screwed your eyes shut, you could either give into the pleasure of you could–
You pushed yourself off him, falling beside him on the bed as he let out a grunt, frustration coating his features as he turned to you.
“No I can’t, Peter. You’re drunk. I really want to but I don’t want you to regret it.” You mumbled, placing a hand on his cheek.
“But I am not going to. You’re my girlfriend. We can do it.” He reassured you, moving up to kiss your lips but you brought a hand down to his shoulder, squeezing it.
“No." You said, pushing him away gently. "I can’t. I am sorry.”
"I can’t even be mad at you.” He sat up, his fingers running through his hair, tugging at them roughly as he glanced at you. “I know you’re right. How are you such a good person. Can’t you just turn that rational part off and just fuck me?”
“I totally would but-”
“You can’t, I get it. You’re right. You’re so good sometimes I hate you.” He shifted closer to you, pushing stray hair out of your face. He pecked your cheek, dropping his head in the crook of your neck.
“Shut up.” He mumbled under his breath, pulling away from you. You reached for his clothes but he was already crawling over to his side of the bed.
“Wear it–" You started but he shook his head, curling up under the blankets.
“Put on some clothes, babe." You insisted.
"No, I am hot." He grumbled into the pillow, pulling the blanket up to his face.
“It’s a bit chilly-”
“Okay fine.” You raised up your hands in mock defense as you moved over to the end of the bed.
Peter groaned as his phone rang, squinting at the screen as he accepted the call.
"'ello?" He mumbled, the phone held loosely in his hand.
You giggled as you pulled off your dress, folding it neatly and placing it on his desk. You turned to face the mirror, picking up his comb and combing your hair as you turned to Peter who leaned back on the bed.
"Mis'er stark?" He yawned, covering his mouth with the back of his hand as he rolled over, his eyes widening as his gaze landed on you.
"How much did you drink, kid?" Tony chuckled from the other side.
"Kid." Tony warned.
"A lot." He confessed, smiling to himself sheepishly as you giggled, your hands reaching back to unclasp your bra. It fell down your shoulders and you caught it, placing it on his desk.
His eyed you, drinking in your half naked body as heat rushed to your cheeks. You covered your tits with your hands, turning away from him teasingly.
"We're going to have a long talk about that." Tony inhaled sharply.
"Yeah." Peter mumbled, his eyes fixated over your body. You chuckled as you slipped on a shirt.
“Is y/n with you? Tony asked. "She didn't take her phone with her."
"Yeah she is. She's looking like an angel, Mr. Stark." He muttered dreamily as you shot him a look, pulling on the sweatpants.
"Yeah?" Tony smiled.
"Yeah." He agreed, his smile widening as you rolled your eyes. "Looking so beautiful like this. God, I love her."
Tony let out a light chuckle in response.
"Looking like a fucking angel in just her panti–"
"Yeah, that's enough!" You quickly pulled the phone from his grip, your eyes widening as you glared at Peter.
You quickly hung up, crawling in the bed with him as he whined.
"What was that?" You said as you slipped inside the blanket, snuggling close to him. He sniffed, placing his head on chest as he wrapped an arm around your waist.
"S'fine, baby." You patted his cheek. He shuffled impossibly closer to you, tucking his head under your chin, his cheek squished against your clothed boobs.
His hand slid up your waist, you sighed, your body melting in the warmth radiating off his body. He brought his hand up to your chest, placing it on your boob. He whined as you slapped it away.
"Let me touch your boobs." He whimpered, rubbing his face in between your boobs as you laughed but shook your head.
"No." You giggled, your fingers threaded in his curls.
"Give me your bra then." He muttered, you cocked an eyebrow at him.
"It's the closest thing to your boobs." He shrugged nonchalantly and you stared at him in disbelief.
“Are you seriou-?”
"Fine." You crawled over to the edge, fetching your bra from his desk and handed it to him.
You chuckled to yourself as he smiled, turning around and snuggling in his pillow, with your bra in his hands. You crawled over to him, kissing his cheeks as you wrapped an arm around his waist.
He groaned as he twisted around in the sheets. His head pounded as he tried to sit up with his back to the headboard for support. He blinked at the red bra bunched up in between his fingers, his brows knitting in confusion.
“Oh, you’re awake.” You said. You were standing near the doorway and he blinked a couple of times at the sharp sunlight. “I’ll get you some Advil.”
You came back with the medicine and a glass of water. He took the medicine as you rubbed his forehead and he rested his head on his shoulder.
“I am never drinking ever again.” He grumbled and you giggled, kissing his forehead.
"Well, not as much as you drunk last night." You pulled his head up, kissing the corner of his mouth. "But you can have a little. In limit, alright?"
He nodded, his gaze falling upon your bra in his hand. His cheeks flushed as he caught you eyeing the bra with a small smile.
"Why do I…?" His blush deepened as he held up the bra, searching your eyes. "Why do I have this?"
You chuckled, "I said you couldn't touch my boobs–"
"And I asked for your bra because it was the closest thing to your boobs." He squinted at you in disbelief. "I can't believe I did that."
"So you remember?"
You laughed, wiping his mouth with the end of your sleeve as he leaned closer to you.
“Thank you for not sleeping with me last night." He glanced at you, his voice small. "Even though I insisted–it wouldn't be right."
“Of course, Pete. You shouldn’t thank me for doing the bare minimum.” You placed a kiss on the crown of your head. “Even though it was hard with everything you were saying.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me.” He groaned, his head dropping in his hands.
"You're a whore when you're drunk!" You cracked up, your eyes crinkling as you wheezed. "You said so many dirty things–"
“I know what I said!” He blushed, swatting at your shoulder but you only laughed harder, causing him to crack a smile.
“I didn’t know you had it in you." You wiped a tear from the corner of your eye. "You asked me if you could fuck my face–"
"You asked me to sit on your face–"
"You said I'd look so pretty with your cock stuffed in my mouth, peter." Your hand came up to muffle your giggles as you watched the tips of his ears turn red. "You said you wanted to be my slut–my good boy–"
"You almost told my dad about me being in my panties in front of you–”
"Shut up!" He buried his face in the pillow.
“Every word that came out of your mouth was basically porn." You tapped his butt and he whined. "It was quality porn, though. I am telling you.”
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kaz brekker x reader - black widow
summary: kaz meets his match
warnings: none, slight jesper fahey x reader
word count: 2.9k
Y/N lifted her head as a trio entered her office. The room was shrouded in black satin - the chairs, the curtains, everything. Light was dim, a small cluster of candles flickered on her desk which was situated in the middle of the room. Behind her desk was her large, high backed, black chair - her throne. Anyone who ended up in the room with her was either a blundering fool or was daring enough to view her as an equal.
The room reflected the aesthetic that her group was known for - The Black Widows - a web of seductresses, reeling in unsuspecting merchers and taking all they had. They were notorious, quickly rising among the ranks of the Barrel, even then, with their methods known, people still foolishly fell into their traps.
A young girl, Celine, announced their presence, “Ms. L/N - Mr. Kaz Brekker and two of his crew.”
Y/N nodded gracefully towards the girl, “You’re excused.”
Celine turned on her heel and hurried out the grand oak doors, quickly closing them behind her. The little group was now alone with her.
“To what do I owe the pleasure, Mr. Brekker?” Y/N’s voice was low, sultry.
Her eyes dragged over Kaz, slowly scanning his body. She knew exactly who this group was - Kaz Brekker, the Bastard of the Barrel, with his Wraith, a Suli girl originally from the Menagerie, and a loud mouthed Sharpshooter, who she believed was named Jasper.
“One of your girls has a lead on a contact that I need.” Kaz replied, voice sharp.
At the mention of girls, the Suli clenched her jaw, glaring daggers at the Black Widow.
Y/N laughed and tutted, “Kaz, your people think so little of me.” She snapped, “I’m not like Tante Heleen, girl. My ladies are here by choice, nothing tethers them to me other than loyalty. And this isn’t a pleasure house either. They are to me what you and your friend are to Kaz - employees.”
She abruptly stood, brushed her hands on her blouse, and walked around to the front of her desk. Her entire outfit was black, credit due to her name - a black blouse and tight black pants. Professional, yet adaptable when it came to fights.
She leaned back against the front of her desk and folded her arms across her chest, “Why do you need the lead?”
Kaz tightly clenched his jaw and eyed her down, “Does it matter?”
“Only if I say it does.” She arched an eyebrow, challenging him. They were on her turf, therefore, she made the rules. “And I say it does matter. Don’t worry, I’m not going to spill the details of your schemes to anyone. You and I both know I’m not an ally of Pekka’s.”
Kaz answered, clearly annoyed, “For a job.”
Y/N pushed off her desk and advanced towards Kaz until she stood just inches in front of him. With a single nod of his head, his two accomplices stepped backwards.
“A man of so few words,” she walked around Kaz, a hand delicately trailing up one arm, across his shoulders, and then down the other, “Why?”
From the corner of her eye, she could see his jaw twitch. Her heart jumped at how the man tensed under her hand. This was exactly how she liked her men, squirming under her touch.
“This has nothing to do with my request.”
“You’re right,” she relented, “it doesn’t. Consider my interest piqued - perhaps I want to know a bit more about the infamous Dirty Hands.”
“You’ve had your eye on me. I’m sure your girls have found out enough.”
Kaz’s response was blunt, professional, but he was obviously on edge. The tight, intense body language was enough to make his sharpshooter reflexively reach for his gun.
“You’re right, I’ve found out the basics. Yet I find information is most delicious when straight from the source. It’s not everyday you stumble into my office.”
She redirected her attention towards the Sharpshooter, now advancing towards him, “Especially with a handsome man with a talent for guns in tow.”
Reaching out, Y/N straightened the front of the Sharpshooter’s coat. Her fingers trailed down the edges of his coat, looking up at him and fluttering her eyelashes softly. She could feel his eyes slowly running over her before snapping to Kaz’s, silently asking what to do.
He gulped and looked down at her, “It’s Jesper actually.”
Y/N threw a glance back over her shoulder at Kaz, “See what I mean? Information is best straight from the source.”
She whirled her attention back to Jesper, her hands now splayed on his chest.
Smiling softly, she leaned in and whispered into his ear, “I could use a man like you in my group. Any fool can tote a gun, but there’s a select few, like you, who are just born to be behind the barrel.”
Slowly, Y/N pulled away and bit her lip, her hands still ever so softly slithering up to wind around Jesper’s shoulders.
His face tinged red, “Well thank you. I always thought I was-”
Kaz snapped, “Shut up, Jesper. She’s reeling you into her web.”
Jesper immediately quieted and stepped back, away from her. Y/N sighed dramatically and approached Kaz again, walking slowly in circles around him. She allowed her eyes to roam over him, taking in the sharp angles and lines that created his form.
“You’ve spoiled my fun.”
Kaz stared her down, not saying a word, and Y/N fiercely stared back. It was a showdown, the two silently sizing each other up and trying to decide who would strike first.
“So the lead that you so desperately need…”
“I never said desperately.” Kaz snarled.
“Of course,” she smiled and softly fluttered her eyelashes, “I hope you know information doesn’t flow freely.”
“Of course it doesn’t.” Kaz readjusted his grip on his cane and she could just barely see his Adam’s apple bob. “Name your price.”
“Oh I don’t want a traditional payment, Brekker.”
He raised an eyebrow, appraising her. Y/N smiled when she realized she had caught the Kaz Brekker off guard.
“I’ll give you the lead on one simple condition. Take me to dinner, Brekker.”
If she wasn’t in the middle of a deal, she would have laughed at the expressions of Kaz’s friends. They were shocked, their eyes flitted anxiously between Kaz and herself.
“Of course,” Kaz replied, sternly turning to Jesper, “You’ll be taking your new friend to dinner.”
“Oh no no no,” Y/N scolded quickly, “I’ll only settle for dinner with you, Dirty Hands.”
“Why?” The Suli girl finally spoke.
“I’d like to pick his brains. There’s one thing I like more than peddling information - it’s finding out what makes people tick.”
She held out her hand, adorned with silver rings that glittered faintly in the candlelight, “Deal?”
Kaz stepped forward confidently and grasped her hand, giving it a firm shake.
As they shook hands, Y/N looked deeply into Kaz’s eyes. They were swirling with emotions, something that looked a lot like greed and vengeance.
As Kaz let go, she spoke, “Call me a fool for going off of first assumptions, but I think you and I are quite similar.”
“Oh, really?” Kaz smirked lightly, an edge of his mouth curving up.
“I can see myself in your eyes - you’ve been trapped under the crushing weight of Ketterdam’s evils before too. Now you want the city to kneel before you and atone for its sins.”
Kaz bluntly replied, “I guess you’ll just have to find out.”
“Presumably so, Mr. Brekker.”
Y/N whirled on her heel and strode back to her desk, calling out, “Celine, do be a darling and escort Mr. Brekker and his friends out.”
She settled back down upon her throne and watched Kaz and his accomplices leave her office. She could faintly hear the Suli girl mumbling something to Jesper who responded, “Well she is beautiful.”
With one foot out the door, Kaz glanced over his shoulder, his stern eyes boring into hers. Y/N smirked with triumph and winked.
Slowly, Y/N rotated in front of her floor length mirror, admiring with every turn how the black skirts of her dress flowed like the wind. It was truly a luxurious dress, eye-catching in every way, but it had stayed burrowed at the back of her closet, never worn.
When a letter arrived upon her desk, marked with the initials K.B. requesting her to wear formal attire at their upcoming dinner and meeting, Y/N immediately retrieved the dress. The letter had thoroughly surprised her though, she’d been expecting a dinner at a dinky little Barrel eatery, knowing how frugal Brekker was. Dirty Hands was certainly up to something.
“Ma’am,” a voice echoed on the other side of the grand doors to her bedroom, “Mr. Brekker is here for you.”
“Thank you, I’ll be out in a moment.” Y/N replied and hastily sat upon a lounge chair, quickly slipping into thin black heels.
Standing, now a bit taller, she took one last glance in the mirror before throwing open the doors. She walked to the staircase, her hands dancing along the stone wall next to her. No expense had been spared in creating her own palace.
Rounding the corner, she stepped onto the staircase which led down to a large foyer. One hand holding up her skirts, Y/N continued her descent down the stairs, her heels clicking with every step. Kaz stood in the middle of the foyer, both hands resting upon the head of a solid black cane. He wore the same stern expression and posh black suit, like that of a mercher.
Reaching the bottom step and walking towards Kaz, she spoke, “You changed canes.”
“It was necessary.” Kaz replied bluntly.
“The other is too recognizable.”
“Having dinner and a heist, are we?” Y/N wickedly grinned, walking over to the main doors and flinging them open. Kaz trailed behind her.
“Something of the sort.”
The evening Ketterdam air was chilly as they both walked out into the street. Kaz swiftly walked ahead of her, silently leading the way through the hustle and bustle of tourists visiting the city. Their trek through Ketterdam was silent as Kaz led her down twisting and turning alleys until they broke onto a street filled with large grandiose mansions of merchers.
As Y/N silently stood, looking at the houses that surrounded them, Kaz finally spoke, “You’re wearing heels.”
Y/N looked over at the boy, her gaze questioning, “Peeking at my feet, Brekker?”
“No, you’re just taller.”
“I find it quite interesting how you remember how tall I am. Did I leave an impression on you?”
Her tone was dripping with flirtation and for a single joyous moment, she swore the apples of Kaz’s cheeks turned a slight bit red.
“After you.” He announced, holding out an arm towards stairs that led up to an especially large mansion.
Y/N could faintly see people dancing past the windows, twirling and dipping in the light from the chandeliers. With a nod, Y/N picked up her skirts and headed up the stairs. A guard stood at the door, standing at attention in a dark blue uniform.
A gloved hand emerged from behind Y/N, holding several neatly folded pieces of paper, decorated with red wax stamps. Glancing behind her, she noticed that Kaz had tipped his hat down, obscuring the view of his face.
The guard riffled through the papers, eyebrows furrowing and then glanced up at the duo.
With a sigh he passed the papers back to Kaz, “Welcome.”
With a quick nod, they headed inside and were quickly redirected towards a grand ballroom. The vast portion of the room was consumed by the activities that Y/N had viewed from outside. Skirts twirled as couples spun wildly in circles, following a waltz routine that she didn’t know. Light glittered dramatically down upon the marble floor.
Kaz walked along a wall, brushing past the long scarlet velvet curtains that hung beside each window. Quickly, Y/N fell into step behind him. Her heart felt as though it were in her throat and her mind raced with questions.
Soon, Brekker stopped a small table in the corner of the room, away from prying eyes and the lively action. Pulling out a chair, he motioned her to sit, and then sat down in his own chair.
“So, what exactly are we doing?”
“Dinner, as you requested.” Kaz replied sternly, keeping one hand on his cane while his eyes followed the swirling blur of dancers.
“At a mercher’s mansion? There’s another reason why you brought me here.”
Y/N quickly scanned the room for anything she thought the boy would want to nick. A painting, statue, necklace on display, but there was nothing. The only thing to notice was a grand piano paired with a musician, hands fluttering over the keys, playing beautiful vibrant music which filled the room.
Then her eyes landed upon it - an elegant, extraordinarily large diamond necklace, set upon a young woman’s neck. With the woman’s every turn, it flashed in the lighting. That must be his target.
Turning back to Kaz, she raised an eyebrow, “How’d you get us in?”
A small smirk appeared on Kaz’s face, “Typical means - stolen papers and a few well placed bribes.”
“Lovely,” Y/N replied, taking a glass of wine from a waiter quickly walking past.
She took a sip, examining Kaz over the rim. Her eyes slowly roamed his face, taking in each small detail - the way his eyes never stopped moving, constantly examining the room, and the way his clenched jaw would occasionally twitch.
Waiters quickly darted past, swiveling between tables with plates stacked high. Two plates were suddenly deposited at their table, stunning courses of fish and roasted vegetables. Y/N’s eyes flitted quickly between waiters, examining each one that passed.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m looking for Jesper, he’s here somewhere.” Y/N replied quietly.
“How- how’d you know?” Kaz questioned, atone of surprise heavy in his voice.
“You don’t seem like the type of man that would go into this alone. It’s far easier to sneak in a single man, than a single woman, into this party.”
Kaz let out a small laugh, “We’re just having dinner. I don’t need a backup.”
“Oh but you do,” Y/N sharply replied, “You want that necklace.”
“So you did notice it.” Kaz raised one eyebrow, faintly impressed.
“How could one not? Perhaps you’ll have Jesper spill something down her dress, offer to escort her to her bedroom to change, and then snatch the necklace.”
Y/N jumped in her seat when she spotted the Zemeni boy, standing halfway across the room in a white uniform, holding a tray of drinks in an ever so slightly shaky hand. Slowly, the boy approached the table and then tripped. Drinks when flying everywhere, drenching the poor woman in red wine. The woman’s zealous screeches blended with Jesper’s desperate apologies.
Turning her attention back to Kaz, who was picking through his food, she laughed, “I must say, quite brilliant.”
Kaz’s eyes followed Jesper who was now hurriedly escorting the women out of the ballroom.
“I thought you’d find watching one of my plans at work fascinating.”
“Indeed, Mr. Brekker,” Y/N picked up a forkful of fish, “However, it is not what I would have done.”
“And what would you have done?” Kaz leaned back in his chair, both hands resting upon his cane.
“By applying just the right amount of pressure at the correct times, she would have given it to me.” Y/N smirked, twirling her fork.
Kaz raised his eyebrows, looking slightly shocked, “How?”
“She’s a mercher’s daughter. I’ve seen her before - but women like her are all the same. They’ve been reduced to the point where they think their only asset is their beauty. It’s tragic, really.” Y/N explained, glancing over at Jesper as the boy reentered the room.
“A comment about how the necklace makes her shoulders look broad would have done it,” Y/N stated softly, running her fingers over her own collarbones. “It would have upset her, deeply. And if that wouldn’t have been the final strike, a few more pokes and prods would have finished her off. Probably would have wanted to throw the thing away by the time I was done with her.”
Kaz suddenly leaned forward, staring at her intensely, “Is that how all of your girls do their jobs?”
“Of course, I did train them myself.” Y/N smirked, leaning away from the boy.
“I could use your skills on jobs.” Kaz concluded, a faint smile on his face.
Y/N raised an eyebrow dramatically as her heart beat faster, “Are you proposing a partnership, Brekker? I must admit, it would make sense. We do both work against Pekka Rollins.”
Kaz shrugged and Y/N swore for a second, she could see a twinkle in his eye. His sharp voice cut through the music, “Two is better than one.”
Y/N picked up her glass of wine, holding it in the air, “To a new partnership and you getting your lead - you’ve earned it.”
Kaz picked up his glass as well, a devilish smirk etched upon his face, “To us.”
Kaz taglist: (comment “tag me” if you’d like to be added)
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notes: naoya x fem!reader x toji // this is my first time writing a smut and my first jjk work as well so please give me any constructive feedback! (shout out to my best friend for being my editor and helping me out with this self indulgent one shot!) please enjoy! :)
word count: 4,438
warnings: 18+ NSFW; dub con, degrading, insulting, misogyny, pet play/master, slapping, spitting, pegging, cock sounding/stuffing, naoya x reader x toji, etc
You were going to a regular family dinner with your fiancé, Naoya Zenin. You were seated waiting for Naobito and Naoya to begin dinner. "Well we're just waiting on one more person for tonight's dinner." Naobito stated with a bit of distaste. He took a long sip of his sake. You peered at Naoya who looked irritated at the idea of whomever it was would be sharing a meal with the rest of you.
"I'm getting tired of waiting so let's dig in, we can't just wait on him." Naobito said, beginning to eat his food. You waited for Naoya to also have his first bite before you proceeded to eat as well. "She's such a good wom-" Naoya began before he was interrupted by the door sliding open.
"Ah, pardon the interruption." The man said walking in and seating himself right across Naoya with a small thud. He was a very well built man. Your ears burned red from seeing the way he was structured. He was more attractive than Naoya, if you so boldly admitted to yourself. "Oh, is this lady Naoya's wife to be?" The dark haired man questioned as he ate his food.
Naoya seemed more agitated, allowing Naobito to answer instead. "That's correct." Quietly, you ate your food keeping your eyes glued to the dinner in front of you. "I'm Toji, what's your name?" Toji asked you as you looked up to meet his eyes for a moment before answering politely. "Y/n," You spoke back, noticing how his face was rough with a certain gentleness when seeing it clearly.
"You need not speak to my fiancé so directly." Naoya responded staring at Toji with hooded eyes, the tone of his voice underlined with anger. "Eh? Well then how am I to speak to her?" Toji asked puzzledly, pointing his chopsticks at Naoya. Naoya replied, "Through me. She is a woman after all and mine at that."
Toji let out a hard taunting laugh. "Toji!" Naobito yelled, taking another drink of the sake bottle now in his hand. You jumped at the sudden loud voice. "Fine, fine," Toji sighed with his eyes now hooded, "but she's not even yours yet what makes you think she'll last long enough to actually stay with you. She doesn't even know if you're even capable of making her c-'' Toji was cut off by Naoya who gripped his shirt collar.
"Naoya," You spoke, grabbing his sleeve lightly, "please do not lower yourself to his level." Naoya removed his eyes from Toji's and glared back at you. Glancing back at Toji he shoved his chest and he let go of his shirt. "You're right," Naoya spoke with a distasteful tone as he glared at Toji, "I shouldn't lower myself to the level of gravel like him."
Toji scoffed a smirk playing along onto his handsome lips, "Seems like your woman knows how to restrain your leash." Chuckling, Toji shoved more rice into his mouth.
"If anyone has a leash on any one, it's me on her." Naoya responded back, taking a drink of the rice wine in his cup. Your ears burned with fury listening to Naoya speak about you in that form. You were no one's leashed pet, especially not his. You weren't even his wife yet and he already speaks of you in this way? Audacity. That's all he had. You were only obedient enough to be respected and not get insulted.
You kept up a gentle and sweet act in order to live a peaceful life in this stern household. "Naoya, I am no pet to be owned." You replied back to him in a calm and stoic tone while looking straight ahead. "She's got a point there." Toji agreed, while swallowing the food in his mouth.
Naoya turned your head to him by grabbing your chin forcefully. "No woman, especially you, shall speak to me in that manner. If I say you're a pet, then you're a fucking pet." He spat at you angrily while pushing your face away from him while releasing your jaw.
Taking a deep breath you stood up from your seat, "If you'll excuse me, I have finished my meal and will be heading back to my quarters." You announced, exiting the room without a glance back at the men sitting at the table. Toji was slightly shocked at the scene that just happened in front of him. The black haired man glances at Naoya to see his reaction.
"Pathetic woman." is all Naoya says out loud as you leave the room still being in earshot of you. You balled your fists hearing his comment.
Naobito who is also a bit shocked speaks up, "Well I think I'll be taking my leave as well." The head of the clan leaves the room with a bottle of sake in his hand.
"Go fucking apologize," Toji barks to Naoya with a bitter tone. "No, why should I? She's the one who's acting out of place." Naoya retorted, taking another drink from his cup. "You're gonna go apologize, cuz I said you are." Toji gritted out, Naoya glared at him angrily.
• • •
You had just arrived at your quarters and slammed your bedroom door shut. You were infuriated that you couldn't say anything. "What I would do to have that man on all fours in front of me." You said bitterly through gritted teeth. You began removing your kimono, annoyed at the fact that you had to wear these damn things daily.
Opening your closet door you are greeted by more kimonos and only slip on dresses to sleep in. You spotted the black box on the bottom corner of the closet. Maybe some self-pleasure would relieve my frustration. You shook your head against the thought and just grabbed the black slip-on dress.
Walking over to your vanity you removed any residue of the day's stress. You got yourself changed and ready for bed. Finally letting your hair down, you settle yourself into a futon that was placed on the ground in the middle of your room.
As you try to put your thought-full mind at ease to get some sleep, you hear the entrance door slide open then shut. Shuffling noises are heard then right after the sound of footsteps creeping to the door of your room hit the wooden floor boards.
Sitting up immediately you go to grab your robe hooked near the door as you slip it on you hear, "I'm coming in, woman." You hear Naoya's voice echo with a dejected sigh. The door slides open, revealing Naoya standing there with his arms crossed.
He's a bit shocked seeing you standing in front of him in only your open robe and your slip dress on. His face flushes and he looks away, "Put something decent on, woman."
"Woman?" You question. You were now at your wits end with him for the night. "Eh? Do I have to wear something decent in my bedroom? You came here at an indecent time, Naoya." You angrily spat poking his chest.
He looked at you now in disbelief that quickly morphed into anger. He grabbed the wrist of the hand poking his chest. "I guess it seems like you don't know your place tonight," Naoya hissed, walking you back into your bedroom getting closer to the futon that laid on the ground.
"No, it seems like you don't know yours." You mocked knocking him down to his knees and lifting his chin to look up at you. Through the faint bit of moonlight seeping through your window, you were able to see his appalled expression.
"Why you-" Grabbing his cheeks and squishing them together, you stopped all other words ready to come out of his mouth.
He grabbed your wrist with both of his hands. Before he could do anything; in a swift motion you removed the robe's waist tie and tied it around Naoya's wrists. You were surprised that you managed to tie his wrists as quickly as you did.
Holding his wrists above his head, "Tonight, I'll train you on how to be a good little bitch for your master." You growled out, releasing his face and pushing it away. "You crazy whore, let me go." Naoya swore in anger, his entire body trembled in rage as you stood looking down at him.
Pulling him down by his wrists that you were still holding, you made him land on his elbows with a thud to the ground. You laughed menacingly, walking towards the closet and pulling out the black box in the corner. "You think this is funny? You fucking cunt!" Naoya screamed at you as you walked back over to him.
You used your foot to lift his head, "It is, especially when this is how we'll be experiencing our first night together." You smiled innocently. Opening the box and emptying the contents; some toys, bottles of lube, and condoms came falling out.
Naoya looked at you stunned in fear after seeing the contents of the box displayed on the ground. "You dumb worthless wench! What do you think you're gonna do?!" He howled, anger seething through his expression. You bent down to grab his face and slapped him.
"A dog does not speak unless ordered to." Naoya's anger made his body quake. The fact you dared to speak to him in that form and to even slap him was unacceptable and ludicrous.
"Untie me you stupid whore before I decide to kill you!" Naoya cursed glaring daggers at you. You slapped him again across his face then again, and again, then again one more time.
"YOU FUCKING SLUT! UNTIE ME RIGHT NOW SO I CAN KILL YOU!" Naoya was furious at this point. You stood up and kicked his side hard enough for him to land on his back.
"I told you, I will be training you on how you should obey your master." Reaching for the collar and leash that was mixed on the ground with the other toys, you sat on him pulling at his blonde hair to lift his head from the pillow making it easier to place the collar around his neck. you smiled in love with the view of seeing him under your control.
"Get that shit off me!" Naoya demanded. Grabbing his chin you brushed your thumb pad across his bottom lip. "Now, Why would I do that? You look so good with it on. Like a proper pet." You leaned closer to him enough to let his lips brush yours.
Grinning, you whispered lowly in his ear, "The way you look right now turns me on so much." You proceeded to give him a soft kiss on his jawline. Swallowing hard, Naoya looked at you with his rage filled eyes. Awaiting what else you'd do, and how far you'd think of going.
As you slide yourself lower on him, your womanhood sat directly on his dick. Undoing his top you opened it exposing his well-built chest. Now sitting on his dick it hit you, that he was aroused.
"Well look at what we have here my slutty pet? Looks like I'm not the only one enjoying this." You grind your womanhood down on his growing bulge making Naoya's breath hitch in his throat.
You positioned yourself in between his legs with his legs on either side of your hips. "This shit is not turning me on you fucking slut." Naoya said insultingly. You removed his pants and then traced a finger on the outline of his underwear where his bulge stood out. Judging By the tent in his underwear alone, you could tell that the blonde man was huge.
"Calling me a slut when you're the one whos leaking." You poke at the tip of his dick where a small wet spot has been created from precum. Naoya had no retort for what you said, all he can do is grit his teeth in anger as you pull off his underwear. His cock springs up, the night air hitting his exposed member. You run a finger from the base of his cock to the tip.
You are just a tad bit shocked at how large his cock is. Maybe this was what he traded for instead of having a decent personality. "Well, just know I'm not nice enough to let you cum anytime soon." You commented as you reached for some lube and the beaded sound laying on the floor.
Naoya shook his head seeing the metal beaded rod in your hand he already assumed what your intentions were. "I'll make sure it doesn't hurt too much, darling." You scoffed at the word ‘darling’ leaving your lips. After having lubed up the sound you stroked Naoya's cock with your free hand to get him to relax.
As soon as he seemed more relaxed you spread the opening of his cock and started placing the beaded sound into his opening. Naoya's eyes widened, filling with tears at the foreign object being inserted into his cock. "FUCK! YOU INSANE PSYCHO BITCH!!" He bellowed out as you slowly pushed the sound into him.
After a few more curses and muffled cries, it was fully in. "Now, that wasn't too bad." You gave him a gentle smile. You stroke his dick gently feeling it twitch in your grasp. Naoya looked at you with fuming glossy eyes.
Tracing your fingers up and down his abdomen you felt just how toned he was, maybe not as buff as another certain Zenin but nicely toned. Your fingers slowly went to tease his nipples rubbing them in a circular motion.
Naoya lowered his arms down to move your hands away, "I'm not a woman! Do not pla-'' Before he could finish you pulled on the leash attached to his collar yanking him towards your face.
"If its only a place to tease women, then why is your dick twitching like a dog in heat?" You breathe out amused. Taking that moment you grab his face spitting on him. Standing up you removed your robe along with the slip dress leaving you only in some black lace-trimmed panties.
Naoya's face began to burn a crimson red, this was the first time he has ever seen your body naked. He had never seen you so exposed and bare like this, he hated to admit how much he loved the way your body looked lightly lit by the moonlight. You placed yourself back in between his legs once again grabbing the lube, you poured it on Naoya's cock letting it flood down between his ass.
Using one hand to stroke his dick while your other hand slid in between his ass. He froze sensing your second hand's action. "Don't you fucking dare you lowly whore!" He barked, his eyes widening in anger as you smirked and proceeded in plugging your index and middle finger in him. "I already let you stuff my dick! You damn lunatic!!" Naoya fumed as you resumed.
"You have no place to talk when you're g-spot is literally in your ass bitch." You sneered going further in him and spreading him out. As you began to pump into him with your fingers spreading him in the process. He muffled his moans and whimpers by biting his lip.
You let go of his dick and slapped it. "I never said not to make noise, bark for your master, disobedient bitch." You commanded as he let out a sharp gasp. He gritted his teeth, closing his eyes as you added another finger.
Proceeding to pump into him faster, making him arch his back and causing his breathing to become erratic. "S-Stop please!" He moans out, finally you had managed to hit his prostate.
"Call me master and I might consider your request, useless dog." You growled at him, pulling out your fingers. Naoya shuddered at the release of your fingers from his now begging hole. You were about to grab your strap on when you heard a knock at your bedroom door.
Frozen in place for a second, you placed a finger to your lips signaling Naoya to keep quiet, "May I ask who?" You called out as you glanced at Naoya to make sure he kept his mouth shut. Surely he wouldn't want to get caught in this situation.
"Uh, it's me Toji, I wanted to make sure Naoya didn't upset you more than he already has," Toji responded from the other side. Your mouth formed a small 'o' as you glanced back at Naoya. A smirk forms on your pretty plump lips. Naoya scowled at you and at Toji's response.
"He hasn't upset me further, but please come in." Naoya shakes his head furiously, obviously he didn't want to be seen below a woman nor did he want Toji to see his woman exposed. "Alright, I'm coming in." Toji slid the door open slowly, his head peered into the room. The dark haired male was in shock after witnessing Naoya and yours position on the futon.
"Would you care to join us?" You proposed a bit of a gleam in your eyes. Toji froze for a moment but then proceeded to walk in without saying a word, closing the door behind him. He gripped at the edge of his shirt and pulled it over his head making his way over, revealing his buff and sculpted build.
"You're into this shit!?" Naoya questioned as he saw Toji approaching you from behind. "Did I order you to speak?" You questioned, slapping his cock. Naoya flinched at the action inhaling a sharp breath.
Toji chuckled looking down at Naoya, "Seeing you getting treated like dirt by such a pretty lady, kinda tickles my taste." Toji sank onto his knees behind you.
"I'm gonna do what you haven't and fuck your woman," Toji smirked taking your breast into his hands, you could feel the rough callouses on his hands as they groped your breast. You sensed the bigger man's muscles flex against your bare back.
You bit your lip as you felt his hands roam your body. Naoya's body shook with enmity, "Get your fucking hands off of her you fucking bastard!" He demanded trying to sit himself up.
You grabbed the leash and pulled him up as close as possible to your face, "You're going to shut the fuck up and watch your master get her cunt fucked." You hissed cupping his face with your other hand. Kissing his lips roughly Naoya returned the kiss back with the same roughness. Ending the kiss you pushed him back down onto the futon.
Toji continued to explore your body with his hands. He let soft kisses touch your nape, slowly making his way to your left shoulder. His left hand was groping your right breast while his right hand wandered down inside your black panties.
"Wow, you're fucking wet," Toji breathed into your ear his deep voice causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. His fingers quickly found your clit and he began to massage it in a circular motion. He was gentle with his motion, but going at a steady pace just enough to make your body tremble with enjoyment.
You let out soft moans as he let his hands pleasure and unwind you. "On all fours pretty lady," Toji commanded, you followed his orders and positioned yourself on all fours. Your face was now in front of Naoya's throbbing cock.
The blonde man watched as you were bottomed out by Toji, this view infuriated him. He hated seeing Toji as the one you were submitting to, Naoya's frustration grew by each tortuous second. Toji proceeded to remove the garment inclosing your soaking pussy. The chill night air hitting your womanhood made you gasp softly.
Toji laid on his back his head in between your legs underneath you. You let out a moan as soon as you felt Toji's tongue start to lap your soaking pussy.
Naoya's dick began to twitch again hearing your moans get louder. It was making him more eager to have you touch him. "Fuck." Naoya exhaled.
"Tastes so fucking good," Toji moaned between each lap of his tongue gripping your thighs. He used his fingers to enter your hole, "Loosen up for me, princess." Gasping loudly, you gripped the sheets of the futon as his fingers began to pump in and out of your pussy.
You let your body move on it's own, fucking yourself on his thick fingers. "Y/n! Fuck please." Naoya breathed out desperately. Your mouth opened as you began to tongue Naoya's cock not wanting to deprive him too much.
In reality, you wanted to take Naoya's full cock in our mouth, but since you were in the midst of training this misbehaved dog, maybe another time.
"I'm going to cum!" You screamed as you came all over Toji's fingers, your legs trembling from the sensation. The dark haired male made sure to clean up all of your spilling juices with his mouth.
Toji repositioned himself on his knees and pulled you up by your arms so you were on your knees again. "Can't believe Naoya hasn't had the pleasure to enjoy your taste." Toji smirked and looked at Naoya, he grabbed your chin so he could kiss you.
"Taste yourself, my lady." Toji bit your bottom lip making you open your mouth allowing his tongue to explore the inside of your mouth. Pulling away you smiled innocently seeing Naoya's flushed face due to him being probably mad or frustrated, whatever it was you liked the expression.
"I have to give my pet the rest of his training and if he takes it well he can fuck his master's cunt next time too." You grabbed the strap on and put it on yourself, making Naoya flip and position himself with his ass up.
You proceeded to grab the lube and spanking paddle, placing the lube on Naoya to make it easier on yourself and him to slip in. Naoya was surprisingly being very complacent now, maybe seeing how Toji satisfied you made him want to do the same.
While you prepped Naoya, Toji removed his pants and underwear, tossing them to the side with the mess of clothing scattered on the floor. The heavenly carved man used his hand to pump his throbbing hard cock, getting it ready to fuck the life out of you.
"Time for some training bitch." You said sliding the attached dildo into Naoya. You hear his muffled gasp, you used the paddle to spank the blonde male's ass. Naoya jerked his head to the side at the shutter of pain coming from his ass. "Your master wants to hear her slutty pet moan, so refrain from keeping quiet." You ordered spanking him again.
Finally you were fully taken in by Naoya you then began pumping into his plump ass. You started at a slow enough pace to let Toji insert himself inside you.
You felt his cock fill you up. He was big and his girth filled your tight pussy. Your walls clenched around his cock almost about to cum from him just entering you. Toji gripped your waist, "No cumming this easily, my lady." He hummed into your ear.
Snapping back your head nodding at his command and you happily continue thrusting into Naoya. Picking up the pace Toji met you with the same rhythm while his left hand was placed on your neck gently squeezing the sides with his fingers and thumb.
His right hand squeezed and groped your left breast; with your hand on Naoya's waist to keep your pace steady. Naoya's grunts and moans echoed through the dimly lit room as you begin to hit his prostate.
"Please stop!" Naoya whimpered as he starts to feel the immense pleasure from having you fuck him. Toji's grunts and moans get louder filling the room as well. "Please, please! I hate you! You fucking piece of shit woman!!" Naoya cursed through waves of pleasure.
You used the paddle to reprimand him for cursing. You're able to see the tint of his ass get redder with the little bit of moonlight peaking in, it was a full moon out tonight and your body and mind were in bliss.
You kept thrusting, hitting Naoya's prostate repeatedly, "I wanna cum! I wanna cum! Let me cum please!" Naoya pleaded out to you. Now you just had to see his expressions, imagining it when it was right in front of you wasn't sufficing. Toji kept his rhythm as he was also close to his peak.
Your smooth hand grabbed Toji's wrist to stop him as you halted your movements into Naoya. Pulling out of the blonde man, you flipped him over on his back. His face flushed and wet with tears, his eyes sparkling with wetness making the sadistic side of yourself excited.
Seeing him in that state made your pussy get wetter than it was already. Toji felt you squeeze around his cock at the view of your fiancé looking like a pathetic animal. You grabbed Naoya's cock and removed the beaded sound slowly from his flushed-pulsing cock.
With each of the beaded rod sliding out Naoya panted and moaning once it was fully extracted from his huge cock. "Please make me cum, Master." Naoya whined while looking at you completely bottomed out.
Your face blushed as you repositioned yourself back into Naoya. Toji started again as well once you got to a good pace. Picking up the speed of your thrusts, you were ready to make his dick unload the cum he had been building up.
Naoya was now shamelessly moaning and grunting as you were hitting his sweet spot repeatedly. He arched his back to feel each thrust you did. Deciding to add to his pleasure you pumped his cock in your hand, making him throw his head back at the blissful feeling.
Toji kept thrusting into you, hitting your g-spot and making you throw your head back in satisfaction as well. Moans cascading out of your mouth a symphony. Your panted as your walls clenched around him as you were getting close to your orgasm.
"I'm cumming!" all three of your pleasured voices mixed at once as you reach your climax. Removing yourself from Naoya, his cum squirts all over his own chest.
Toji pulls out of you, cumming on your back all the while your legs tremble as you cum as well. "I fucking hated this," Naoya grunted out breathing heavily. You smirked at your fiancé and questioned him, "Wanna get your brains fucked again, you dumb crybaby pet?"
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can you pls write an angst where y/n went to her and harry's house that they bought or something like that in Italy to try to move on and go on with her life after harry broke up with her but then she never expected that harry will be there as well with his new gf.... you can end it whatever you like!! thank you
Word Count: 1.6K
Warnings: idk, sad I guess? also not proof read oops sorry lol
When In Italy
It has been three months since you’ve last seen or spoken to Harry. A very abrupt change after being together for four years, with constant talk of marriage and starting a family, the break up was something either of you really expected. It started as a break of sorts, eventually turning into a complete break up after only a couple weeks in a somewhat mutual way. With Harry's career taking off in so many different ways, with acting, the new tour and more, his life had changed completely and has left him very little time for anything else.
It went from daily phone and FaceTime calls, constant text messages and flowers being delivered to nothing.
“You really think that’s a good idea?” Your best friend asked you, concern plastered all over her face, “that won’t bring up too much?”
She had been sitting with you as you finished packing up your suitcase, trying her best to give you her support as you were going to be going on a spur of the moment trip to Italy and staying at the home of you and Harry, needing the much needed getaway and disconnecting completely. Seeing different things online about him all the time didn’t make it any easier and no matter how hard you tried to avoid it, he always found his way to pop up.
“I just need a break, everything here is a reminder to.” You sigh, “I just want a change of scenery. I think it’ll be good for me.”
“I hope so…” she frowned, looking up at you with a sad smile, “please don’t just sit there in the house all alone. Go out, meet some local Italian men!”
“I’m definitely not ready for that.” You say, forcing a laugh as you close your suitcase, zipping it up and placing it on the floor by your door, “but I will really try, I promise. I will call you if I need you and you can come out?”
“Hell yeah I can.” She laughs, standing up and giving you a hug, “and you’re really going right now?”
You bite your bottom lip as your eyes fill up with tears, nodding quickly as you look at her and she quickly pulled you in a tight hug.
“You can do this.”
You pulled your suitcase through the front door, waving goodbye to the driver as you turned around to close the door behind you as they left you alone in the house that has so many memories inside. You pause at the door, taking a couple deep breaths as you look around and try and keep your mind at bay before walking to the guest bedroom, deciding the main bedroom was too much and the guest bedroom was already way nicer than your apartment.
After taking the time to unpack, knowing you would stay awhile, you put away your things into the various drawers and closet in the room. You keep out a swimsuit and change into it quickly, sliding a simple dress overtop before walking out onto the balcony attached to the bedroom, taking in the smell of the ocean and beautiful view, memories overwhelming your senses.
“Well don’t you look absolutely stunning.” You can practically hear him say all over again, reliving the memory as if it was actually happening, “ ‘m the luckiest man in the world.”
You remember him coming up behind you, arms tight around your waist as his head rested on your shoulder, soft kisses being pressed along your shoulder as you leaned back into him, a large smile covering both of your faces before you leaned your head back, connecting your lips before he pulled back.
“I can’t decide…” He had whispered, connecting your lips again.
“Decide what?” You had giggled, turning around to face him, arms resting around his shoulders as his came around your waist.
“If I want to get married here or have our honeymoon here.”
You shuddered slightly as the memory came back, letting out a deep breath before packing a beach bag quickly and leaving the house just as fast, taking a walk down to the private beach and settling yourself in a lounge chair. Applying your sunscreen you could almost convince yourself it was him applying it on you like he always would do, large hands massaging it into your skin.
You push the thought away as you grab your phone, playing music softly to try and distract your mind. Your fingers hovered over your different social media apps, wanting desperately to just give it a quick click, wondering if you could get any update on where he could be from his fans, posts always finding their way on your feed. Instead, you hold it down, deleting all of the various apps and throwing your phone down on your bag, grabbing your book and letting the music play, opening to the first page to try and escape into the new world.
After a few hours been spent peacefully on the beach, you decided to head back to the house to take a nice bubblebath and order yourself some dinner, deciding that you would go to town the next morning in order to cook some of your own meals. The walk back to the house was more enjoyable this time and you began to feel a sense of hope as you approached the house, your heart not clenching in as much pain as it originally had done when you first pulled up to the house earlier that day.
Using your keys, you unlocked the back door, locking it behind you again as soon as you got inside, making your way to the bathroom right away and letting the water fill up the bathtub, pouring in some of the fancy bubblebath that you remember buying once from your favorite boutique in town, making a mental note to stop there again tomorrow.
Discarding your clothes, you hung them up, deciding you could use it once more as a cover up after not even going into the water, and you honestly didn’t even have the energy to even think about doing laundry right now, even simply showering was too much most days so you were happy to submerge yourself simply into the warm water, eyes fluttering closed as it embraced you with it’s comfort.
You began preparing yourself a mental list of things you could do tomorrow, forcing yourself to get out of the house and keep yourself occupied after locking yourself away in your apartment the past few months, planning on taking baby steps but knowing that even starting will be more like a push off a cliff.
Pulling yourself out of the bath once finishing cleansing your body, deciding to save washing your hair for the next day, you pulled yourself out of the bath, honestly just wanting to curl up into bed and go to sleep but knowing you needed to force yourself to eat something. So, you dry off, applying some matching lotion to your body, which made you feel a sense of pride of yourself as you made small steps to take care of yourself again, thanking the air of Italy as self motivation and threw on the robe that you swear was the softest one in the world.
A sudden sound coming from the house made you jump, a hand coming over your chest to try and calm your racing heart as your mind tried to think of all of the possibilities of who could be there, or maybe it was coming outside? Or honestly at this point you thought it could be your imagination as the memories that have been flashing into your mind have been so vivid it felt like it was actually happening. Your feet softly padded on the wood flooring, making your way to what you thought was the site of the sound, feeling bile rise in your throat at the sight before you.
It was Harry there, with one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen in your life, laughing together.
You weren’t sure if they saw you, both of their hair wet as towels wrapped around them and it seemed like they had just got back from the beach, making you think that you must have just missed each other as you swapped positions. You slowly walk backwards, thinking of running out the back towards the beach and calling a car, leaving all of your clothes there.
You could see slightly into the master bedroom, seeing their suitcases sprawled and things laid on the couch as they chatted together, knowing they must have arrived when you were down at the beach, your presence unknown as all of your things sat seemingly hidden in the guest room which you were now desperately trying to go and hide in, but after it being too log since you been here, you accidentally ran into the wall, a photo that was hanging there crashing to the floor, glass shattering.
Two heads quickly snapped their way towards you, both pairs of eyes meeting yours as gasps left both of their lips, Harry’s face going pale as he saw you. You opened your mouth to speak, but with this being your first time seeing your partner since the breakup, no words were able to come out.
Spinning on your heel your ran back into the guest bedroom, pulling the suitcase out of the closet and messily shoving all of your clothes into it, tears stinging your eyes and unable to hold them in as they silently spilling on you cheeks, more coming as you heard the familiar steps coming your way, feeling the presence behind you and hearing the door shut softly behind you.
Part 2 anyone???
ALSO PLEASE READ THIS!!
I was wondering what people would think about me doing personalized little blurbs/imagines for people who donate to my tip jar? you could give me your name, prompt, pronouns, etc and i will write it just for you!! :) i’m trying to write more and it’s hard bc i’m a broke college student who needs to work but if people who WANT a personalized little fic with bucky or harry or something with their own name and such maybe I could do something like that? of course I will still be doing all normal requests and such but this way it’s kinda like a one time patreon for people who want to do something like that? idk please comment/send me a message/ask and let me know what you think!!!! let’s talk!
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what do u think about yandere emperors x f!maid?? THE POWER IMBALANCE IS AMAZINGGG. He will corner you in the dark corners of the palace and annoy or harass u. Constantly asking u in their room to clean but actually wanna fuck u. Who do u think in BNHA is suited for the yandere emperor role? Personally, I think it’s Bakugo, Shigaraki, Todoroki and Dabi.
yandere ! BNHA princes imagines
Support me at KO-FI if you feel like it<3
Oops shit, it turned into princes, that’s completely different fuck, but hope it’s okay!!
goodiebag WARNINGS: nsfw, dubcon/noncon, bullying kinda, harassment, abuse, condescension, degradation, power abuse, manipulation, coercion
Some princes maids will fuss over, hoping to catch their eyes. Maids will giggle as they see them walk by in the hallways, swoon at how they seem to sway almost like an angel would, like they’re floating with the breeze. Maids will faint as they see their signature grins being flashed at them like a shooting star, pretty kind eyes sparkling and fluffy locks shaking with magic. Maids will pinch their own cheeks to make them all blushed and cute before entering their chambers with supper, they’ll dust their skirts free of soot and smoke, rake through their hair with their fingers, try to look as presentable as possible, as desirable as possible.
Bakugo isn't that type of prince though.
A prince is supposed to be tall and lean and elegant, standing proud with a straight spine, clad in gold embroidery and neat pointed shoes. Bakugo walks with a hunch in his back, like a goon, thick-muscled arms hanging loosely by his sides like deadweight, sleeves almost always ripped off, flexing both brawn and tattoos, looking like a berserker-warrior, roughed by battle, kissed with scars and callouses, with a face that never sheds its ugly grim bloodthirsty scowl.
He’s not the type one daydreams about. He’s much rather the type one stays away from, hide behind walls when hearing the loud slaps of his feet on the marble floors, heart booming like it wants to leap from the chest and run away, like a deer hiding from the bear.
But he’ll sure daydream about maids.
One maid in particular
Little busy-bee tiptoeing about in her worn-out skirt.
She’ll be that one soft thing he actually likes between flowers and other annoying yapping bratty princesses always pining for his attention. But she’s not exactly soft either, walking about the massive palace day in and day out, chore after chore, in those uncomfortable shoes that soles are nearly worn through, ugly ragged skirt allowing him to see her pretty petite ankles and those smooth calves when she bends over like she’s made for it, on her knees like it’s her rightful place, scrubbing the floors, struggling to reach the top shelves when dusting, when reaching to pull the blinds from the massive windows she has in her care to keep clean and not smitten with soot from the fires he’ll so often start.
She’ll be skittering about like a little mouse, gathering dirty laundry from his room once he’s out hunting, placing them neatly inside his closet again, careful to leave him his supper when he’s been called away by his mother the Queen, like she’s feeding some monster she cannot be caught alone with and not her future King.
He’d heard she were the only one brave enough to actually enter his room, but if one asks him, he knows she actually just picked the short straw, seeing how she leaps around the corner once she see him coming, silly little thing thinking he can't hear her breathing like she’s being hunted.
She’s cute though.
He knows it’s cruel to burden her with even more strain, but... she’s his servant, and what type of future King would he be if he didn't take what was rightfully his?
She looks too adorable standing against the cold stone wall, clutching onto the basket of dirty laundry until her dainty knuckles turn ashen, head bowed beneath Lord Bakugo’s searing red gaze as he towers above her delicate petite frame like a mighty dragon cornering prey. Heat radiating from him like a furnace as he leans in as close as he can with the basket separating the two of them, his large paw of a hand, clawed with talons, large enough to crack her skull open, raised to rub sandpaper fingertips against her jaw, caressing her little face and tilting her head up and up and up to meet his royal-red eyes.
“You’re not suited for this job.” He voiced, tone gruff as he thumbed her chin, his ash-blonde mane falling forward, casting a shadow over his eyes. “Tiny things like you shouldn't do labor work.” He added, tilting his head to the side as his eyes trailed up and down her smooth delicate features, lips cracking open to flash that crazed battle-grin, canines and all, the one that can swallow the sun and breath fire. “You’re much better off tied to my bed.”
He was never one for romance, but it would seem she isn't much of a lady by any means either, the way she kicked her heels into his abdomen once he hoisted her up over his shoulder, her tiny useless fists banging on his back like it would do anything but tickle him as he steadied her with one greedy paw placed on her ass, feeling up the plushie flesh like kneading dough, carrying her away to her new job of keeping him satisfied.
All For One’s heir was a rare sight. She wasn't sure she’d ever even seen him before once she was assigned the role, being the Prince’s new chambermaid. All she knew, by the looks on all the other girls forlorn pitiful faces, was that she’d fallen prey to an unfortunate fate.
She’d heard things, whispers on scared faces, gossip about the cruel spoiled prince and his lack of charm both in the verbal and physical form. She’d heard he was born silent, drained and colorless sept for the blood-red in his eyes. She’d heard his hair was silver like starlit spiderwebs and his skin was in the same state of the moon, cratered and dusted. She’d heard his smile was as ruthless and bloodthirsty and crazed like that of a jackal, with a laugh just as deranged. That even death feared his touch.
The stories was enough to have her shivering outside his door, enough to have her breath hitch in her throat once she nudged the handle to have the door creek open, enough to have her knees weak as she stumbled inside the darkness of his room.
“You’re prettier than the last.” A rusty voice spoke from an unknown source, lost in the darkness of the large bedchamber. “Guess they learned.” It spoke again. “Good for them...” She heard something thud against the floor, whipping around to try spot any trace in the swallowing void, completely overcome by shadows once the door slid to a full close. “Though... they shouldn't have given you the nice dress. I don't care what they put you in, it’s only gonna end up another thing for them to mop from the floor.”
Something emerged from the corner of the room, tall and lean and slender, like a shadow himself until the crack in the curtain cast a strip of light onto his face, eyes even bloodier than what she’d imagined, enough to have her spellbound to her spot on the floor.
“They didn't tell you why you’re here, did they?” He asked, quietly chuckling at her scared awkward stance on his floor, by his bed, completely unaware.
“Good, I like my prey clueless.” She stiffened as his hand ascended, long pale slender-knuckled fingers reaching towards her face, boney and dry as his fingertips scraped along her cheek. “Fed to the wolves weren't you, pretty?” He whispered, eyes looking down to her breasts, licking his lips in salute to how they glowed with healthy warmth like gold, before looking up to her face again, coarse finger dragging across her bottom lip. “Guess that's the price you pay for a face like this.” Chipped nails dug into the plush of her cheeks as he held her face still, his nose taking a large whiff as he nuzzled into her neck. “Mmh, you even smell good.” He moaned. “Pretty thing like you probably tastes good too.” He groaned. “If you want to keep your dress you should strip now, I’m not the most patient person.”
Her breath caught in her throat as he pulled his hand back, standing there, mere inches apart from her, so very tall. “S-strip?” She stuttered, eyes blinking as she looked up at him, no crown on his head, though still looking every ounce worth of superior where no amount of silly gold could hold up to the dominance in his eyes.
She started pulling the strings to her bosom, undoing the laces while keeping eye-contact with the man. “Smart move, pretty.” He praised, looking at how she hurriedly ripped off the intricate layers, trying her very best to not upset him, happy with what he saw. “Now...” He started, taking in her amazing nude frame with a bite to his lip. “Get on your knees like an obedient well-behaved lawful servant.” She whimpered as she lowered herself, looking wide-eyed up at him. “That's a good slave.” She put her knees to the floor, and rested her ass on her heels, her dress pooled around her, as she stared up at the silhouette cast by the moon’s cold blue glow, breath shuddering as he swiped his thumb over her trembling bottom lip, eyes locked with each other. “Open up.” She did what she was told effortlessly, too scared into place to dare even think about refusing, letting her jaw drop, mouth open to receive his thumb pushing down on her tongue. “Fuck... so pretty.” He moaned. “You’ll definitely be my new favorite, I’ll be extra careful not to dust you.” She shuddered, tasting the salt of his thumb, her mouth watering at the same rate her eyes did.
Shigaraki licked his teeth as he grinned, eyes wild and erratic, cock straining against his pants, warm and heavy, throbbing at the sight of the perfect little naked offering on her knees at his feet.
“Come on, pretty, help your Master out of his robes.” He took her hands and pulled her up, where she quickly got to work on unbuttoning his pants, tits bouncing, nipples hard from the nippy air in his room. “You like taking orders, don't you, pretty thing?” She gave him an adorable nod, lashes fluttering at him meekly, big doe-eyes searching for further direction as if scared to move on her own. “You sure know you're place.” He smirked. “I like that.” His hand made an effort to keep his pinky raised, encircling her tiny wrist like a cuff, guiding her to the bed. “Come here.” Plopping down on the bed, he pulled her snug between his thighs, rubbing circles into the fine skin of her hips, tugging her up on his lap with a groan rumbling in his chest, eyes lush and lustful. “Look at this face...” His hand circled her neck this time. “Mmh, fuck, pretty, pretty, pretty.” He kissed her collarbone, giving it a slight bite, making her gasp and jolt a little bit on his lap, teasing the large long beast sitting between the two of them. “Soft too.” He added, kissing up her neck where his hand was holding her steady. “Mmh, you’re gonna be good for me, right?” He moaned. “I would hate to let my hand slip and fuck up your pretty little body.” He warned, adding slight pressure on her throat, his other hand snaking around to the small of her back, pulling her closer, still with the little thing whimpering so sweetly. “That won't happen if you just listen and obey, like a proper good fuck-slave.” She gave a moan once he bit the special soft spot on her neck, her hands instantly jumping to grip his shoulders, melting into his mouth and the throne of his lap. “Nod your head for me, pretty girl.” She moaned in response, tipping her head while leaning into the long-haired prince she’d been sacrificed to. “You want me to fuck you, don't you slave?”
Her eyes slid closed. “Mh, yes.”
“Yes?” He asked, holding her face between his palms, foreheads kissing, looking deep into her eyes as she kneeled on his lap like she was praying.
“Yes, please, M-Master.” She affirmed as her lips ghosted over his.
“Mmh, fuck, you’ve got manners too.” His eyes dazed, heavy-lidded, yet remaining strong, keeping her locked as he drew her in for a kiss. “Keep this up and we’ll get along nicely.”
Not many princes are good-hearted. Where most are spoiled rotten, others are consumed by their power. Prince Shoto is neither, he’s simply strictly lethal. And people in the castle did their best to avoid his steely attention.
Todoroki’s presence leaves the halls feeling chilly, goosebumps climbing up her legs where her skirt hangs in filthy tethers at the ends as she skips rather hurriedly though the corridors, fabric dragging across the stone tiles, scathing on the coarse flooring. She was an unlucky one, one not protected by the safety of working in the kitchens were one can go their entire employment without ever facing the royal family. Poor maid needed to trot along the battlefield of the palace, turning corners, ears on alert, listening to whatever approaching footsteps could be on a path her way.
But, today she had no time for caution, for she had already tested her luck enough as she was running rather dangerously late. She was supposed to be at Fuyumi’s chambers first thing in the morning, bright and shining, helping and guide the seamstresses in fitting the Princess’s dress for tonights event. And she would have been there if she hadn't been up yesterday picking crystal-roses from the garden for Fuyumis broach, where she’d haplessly caught a nasty cold that now had her nose red and stuffed and eyes watering, and even less fortunately bedridden.
She sneezed as she rushed down the hallway, head ducking, hands flying to cover up her nose as she stopped in her hurried pursuit, finding as she continued her strut, that her split-second break from being on watch had already managed to lead her into a world of trouble. Her short stature, elbows first, landing her in a chest of some unknown tall figure.
Focusing her blurry vision, she looked up to see dual-colored hair and eyes belonging to both the King and the Queen, one ice-cold and the other hard as rocks.
“I’m so- so sorry, my Prince.” She blurted out quickly, bowing her head to avoid staring at the unsightly scar covering the towering boy’s left eye. She swallowed thickly, nearly in tears already, knowing that the crown-prince was rather one that liked toying with the castle’s staff on days he hadn't the patience to read books and study, where he never practiced his sword-skills unless he had satisfactory targets.
His hand reached forward and her heart froze over, like a hand of death had taken ahold of it and her lungs seemed to seize, throat closing, making her dizzy at the feel of his grip on her chin, so dreadfully cold it had her teeth shattering.
“No, no, don't cry, it’s quite alright. Accidents happen after all.” His voice was as smooth and soft as it was steely, and it brought her no consolation as she was forced to look into his sharp unforgiving eyes. “Your name?” He demanded and she thought that the whimper which escaped her throat might just be the last sound she’d ever make before she withered like a flower in a blizzard.
“My name?” She couldn't hold back the tear that slipped down her cheek, gasping as the Prince caught it on his index-finger before it could drip down onto the floors.
She watched him take it to his lips, half-way surprised to see his tongue wasn't split through the middle as he licked the little droplet off his slender pale finger. “Yes, slave, your name.”
“T-Tundra, my Prince” She lied, thinking if she left the hallway still with her life that perhaps if he went looking he’d be searching for the wrong person.
The corner of his lips twitched slightly at her answer, forming a rather crooked eerie sort of smile. “Is that right?” He snickered, eyes never leaving hers, having her locked in place, un-allowed to look away. “Fitting you should bare a name such as that and still fall prey to measly little colds.” He stated.
“Irony is a watchful hound, your Highness.” She wanted to look down, anywhere but his searing gaze, thinking he might just turn her into ice only to thaw her into a mushy human being again, have her melt into an unfortunate pulp on the awful brimstone of the castle floors.
“That, she is.” He agreed, tilting his head to the side and looking at her as though he was observing, like he was looking for a flaw in her composure outside the obvious fear that scented the air. “You’re my sister’s handmaid aren't you?” Her blood ran white hot before dropping to a numbing freeze. “You should be with her, fitting her for her dress to this evening’s ball, shouldn't you? Tundra?”
He knows she’s lying to him.
He knows who she is.
“I do look forward to seeing you by my sister’s side, you always look so... precious... up there on the podium. Perhaps you’ll agree to a dance?” He asked though demanded, and she swore her corset was cracking her ribs with how little it allowed her to breathe.
“I’d be honored, my Prince.” She felt like she could rake her skin off, drag it clean of the bone, like she was crumbling like some pastry in front of the young heir.
“Do make sure my sister looks stunning, she does love looking her best. And while you’re at it, throw together something for yourself.” He added, his eyes finally leaving hers to trail down her sorry dress. “I will rather have you go naked than in something as tragic as those robes.”
She couldn't say or do much more than nod, trying her best to keep her lip from quivering so violently. “Yes, my Prince.”
“Well...” He reached out his hand and she could feel the cold air flow like a winter’s breeze, nipping at her skin as he presented his palm to her, awaiting her smaller delicate hand to be offered. “I won't keep you any longer.” She did as she knew she had to, laying her breakable, frostbite-prone hand inside the comfort of Todoroki’s pretty porcelain paw, rings of power around his fingers sure to bite her skin with blisters, making her whimper so unfortunately loudly as she watched him press his freezing lips to her knuckles, the chill running through her veins and causing her head to still. “Run along now, wouldn't want you to fall behind on your chores. Such slacking requires punishment and I would just hate to have to whip you into shape, Tundra.”
Then I must say a street Keigo fits in here too, perhaps taken in by the Todoroki’s, being Dabi’s best mate...
DABI - TODOROKI TOUYA
TAKAMI KEIGO - HAWKS
The wayward son, falling short of meeting the expectations of his father the King, who always favored the youngest brother. In all rights as the firstborn, Touya was supposed to be King, but Enji respects strength above tradition and Shoto was assigned inheritance of the throne. And one can get a fair guess who the Dark Prince is going to take it all out on.
Poor maid, just doing her job, though cruel fate always putting her in places she shouldn't be, at moments poorly timed, trapping her in inescapable dangerous situations. And perhaps she’d be able to avoid the Prince’s ice-blue steely gaze if it weren't for the other guy always being on her tail like a fucking Hawk. But, he knows better than anyone that nothing burns like the cold does, and he’ll do about anything to have that attention averted to someone else rather him, and she looks like their favorite type of distraction, one they can both enjoy.
“Lookie here, Touya.” His voice drawled in thrill, whistling a sharp chirp, trailing behind the busy maid as she hurried through the hallways to reach the kitchens, hoping they’d give her a break just this once.
“Well if it isn't our favorite toy.”
But it would seem Todoroki was in a mood, and by the sound of his voice and no doubt his words, he was looking for some relief.
“Oh, sweetie, we’ve had such a boring day.” The prince’s pet slung his arm around her shoulders, playful golden eyes looking at her with a smirk twitching at the corner of his lips. “Mind helping us out?”
She shook her head, cringing under the boy’s heavy brazen touches and how his breath blew hot against her neck. “My apologies, my lords, you must excuse me, I have chores that need me.” She blurted in the most respectful manner she knew how, trying to scurry off, but their legs were longer and therefor carried them faster than hers could ever hope to outrun, not to mention the weight of her skirt laid thick with cloth, dragging her already tired limbs down.
“Are you saying chores are of higher importance than your Prince?” Keigo quipped, tightening his embrace just a little which made the girl stumble up into his arms, hands bracing against his chest as she looked up at him.
“No!” She shook her head, correcting herself as she dragged her weight off of the ward’s chest. “Of course not, lord Takami.” He couldn't describe just how much he loved seeing her squirm like that, trying hard to save herself.
“We’ve gone over this, pretty...” He cooed, stroking a finger down her cheek before grabbing her chin gently, Touya smirking on the side, watching Keigo play with their prey. “Call me Keigo.”
“I’m sure you can leave your pesky duties for some other time.” Todoroki spoke, stalking closer to where Takami was keeping her still, spinning her around in his arms and locking her tight to his chest, her ass pressed firmly into his crotch as she was made to look up at Touya’s predatory approach, jarring facial features adorned with that gentle sinister smirk he always had plastered on his face.
“Right now, we require your full attention.” Takami whispered in her ear as she squirmed in his hug, trying to shake off his strong arms that were snaked around her waist.
“Better yet, how about I relieve you of all other duties.” Todoroki’s voice scathed like nails being dragged against a board. “That way, you serve us full-time.”
She couldn't help but whimper a little at the thought as the tall dark-haired Prince took calm and steady steps towards her until he was almost budding heads with Keigo who stood behind. “That’s very generous of you, but-” She tried.
“It’s settled then.” Todoroki stopped her with a finger to her mouth, tracing her trembling lips.
Keigo snickered behind her, his chest rumbling against her back. “Come on, we’ll escort you to your new home.”
“Uhm-” She tried again to wiggle free from Keigo’s grip, but he wouldn't allow her to budge, not while Touya still was looking her up and down like a meal.
“Don't disobey us now.” Todoroki warned, to which Takami tightened his grip around her, holding her steady.
“Trust me, you don't want to anger your Prince, he doesn't play nice once you upset him.” The boy behind her spoke as though from experience, his voice breathy and strangely excited.
“Don’t scare her, Keigo.” The prince gave his dog a stern look, and she could feel something poking into her behind, Keigo’s ragged breaths hitting her neck.
“A little fear never hurt.” Takami whispered, breath unruly, his hand detaching from holding down her hip, raising it to grab ahold of her jaw, fingertips digging into the chubs of her cheeks. “Besides... just take a look at that face.”
“You’re right, Keigo.” Todoroki tilted his head to the side, icy eyes looking at her scared little face, seemingly radiating with frost, chilling her very bones as she shivered in Takami’s embrace, which was ironic given she’d seen him burn entire crowds to mere charcoaled mangled mockeries of the human form, where not to mention the cruel singe-brands she spotted running along the forearms that held her steady. “I’m already forgetting whatever it was that upset me.”
Keigo gave another sinister chuckle, as he placed a soft teasing kiss to her collar, one that had her heart getting stuck in her throat. “That’s what I’m here for, your Highness.”
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3B; Part 6 - Masterlist
Summary: Bucky is used to being alone, so is the girl living in apartment 3B. He keeps to his routine, to crossing off amends. But mutual loneliness forges an unlikely friendship. Alone and reclusive, sweet and incredibly strange, with deep secrets and regrets, 3B has more to reveal than meets the eye.
This Chapter: Bucky and the reader go on a mini-date after the chaos of the day in Madripoor. The group heads to Riga and meet up with John Walker.
Pairing: Bucky X Reader
Word Count: ~7.1k
Warnings: abandonment issues, violence, kissing, fatws series spoilers
A/N: This part assumes that you have seen fatws and may not make sense otherwise. This series will be 7 parts. Please let me know what you think!
3B is quiet beside him, curled tightly against his side like she would melt through his skin given the chance. Bucky listens to the beat of music echoing through the walls, focuses on the feel of her hand under his shirt, the press of her fingers against his ribs, drumming a soothing beat.
He closes his eyes, jaw clenching tight. When was the last time he’d been touched like this? Not just with kindness but with intent?
Her touch isn’t solely medical or just friendly or harsh. It’s warm with purpose, to make him feel good, because she wants to be touching him.
He wishes 3B would climb back into his lap and keep kissing him, but she stays put, silent and pensive against him. Her cheek is pressed against his chest, her eyes closed, and he imagines for a moment that she’s listening to his heart.
Bucky reaches over with the arm not around her hips to trace the curve of her cheek, to cradle her jaw and press his thumb against her swollen bottom lip, tracing the soft flesh.
Her hand drifts higher, his breath choking in his lungs in anticipation, until the tips of her fingers brush his dog tags and hook in the chain.
Maybe he imagines it, but he thinks the tip of her tongue flicks against his thumb before she opens her eyes and looks up at him.
“Bucky Barnes, would you like to go get something to eat?” She turns her head when she speaks, nuzzling against him, lips brushing against his shirt.
He snorts, leaning down to press his nose against her temple, inhaling the scent of her, sweat and perfume and spice. “There’s a bounty out for me, sweetheart. Or did you forget?” The sarcasm rolls off his tongue, natural as breathing.
“Did you forget that I can turn invisible, darling?” She shoots back immediately. “We can solve that problem anyways,” she chirps, popping up from the couch suddenly, the warmth of her hand ripped away, leaving him cold. “It’s not hard to hide in plain sight as I’m sure you’re well aware.”
He knows, he just doesn’t want to go anywhere, would forever stay right where they were, with her body molded against his, like they were always meant to be that way.
Bucky watches as 3B bends down and wiggles the heels off her feet. He glances away, figures he shouldn’t be caught staring at her legs, or the curve of her ass, no matter how dangerously short the dress is.
What he wouldn’t do for her to push him back and make a home in his lap again, to kiss him until he drowned in her.
She straightens and pulls her dress down in a little wiggle, before reaching out a hand to him. Instead of taking her hand, he nicks her shoes and carries them for her, letting her lead him down a labyrinth of halls, back to a bedroom.
3B quickly finds her boots, lacing them up with efficiency, before darting into a nearby walk-in closet. Bucky stays put in the bedroom, crossing his arms over his chest.
He tries not to think about the possibility of her changing behind the door. If kissing her, touching the supple curves of her body, the line of her waist, the peaks of her nipples felt that good, he can’t begin to contemplate making love to her. What being wrapped up deep inside her might feel like. What she might look like lost to ecstasy, radiating with luminance.
But when she emerges from the closet she’s only holding a black baseball cap. “Here,” she reaches up to put the hat over his head, tugging it firmly down before stepping back to examine him. “There you go, now you could be any man in the world.”
“Wow,” he deadpans. “Thanks for the compliment.”
“Au contraire, darling dear, I’m saying you’re much too good looking,” she smirks at him, tilting her head to the side.
Despite himself, a blush creeps up his neck. She blinks slowly at him, pressing her lips together to keep from giggling. “Are you laughing at me?”
“I’ve just never seen anyone look so uncomfortable for a compliment.” She reaches out and traces the pad of her thumb over his cheekbone. “And yes, maybe I’m laughing at you just a bit.”
Bucky turns his head and presses a kiss to her wrist, smirking when she in turn looks flustered.
“Ha,” he whispers.
“Shut up.” She says softly, ducking away, “Let's go. Do you have your gloves?”
“Yeah. Where are we going?” He reaches out and takes her hand, marveling that he could, that it was normal to do so, slotting his fingers carefully between hers.
3B’s brow furrows as she concentrates hard. A moment later, Bucky feels the shield clang down between them and the world, and he knows they’re invisible.
She seems more at ease this time around, whether because it's only him or because they’re not under fire, he can’t be sure.
“To you and Sam, the world is different like this?”
“Yes,” she answers. “It's like the volume has been turned up on everything. It's brighter and louder. Harder, softer.” She tugs his hand up and presses her cheek to the back of his hand. “Everything is just more.”
“Why,” he pauses and swallows as they leave the mansion, flit past the guards at the front gate and out to the street. “Why can’t I see it? Why isn’t anything different for me?”
She tilts her head, considering, swinging their hands between them. It's adorable, it makes his heart ache. Only a few hours ago she had been drained, she had shot someone. “I was pondering that earlier while I was lying down.”
“Do you spend all your time thinking about me?” He snarks.
“A fair amount,” she says amiably. “I think about how you eat all my food and take up too much room on my couch.” She turns them down a street with brightly lit shop fronts and stalls selling sharp scented foods, neon signs flickering. This part of Madripoor is upscale, so unlike the crime riddled streets they had been on earlier. The road is swept clean, the people smiling and chatting, not a weapon in sight. “I think it's possible that you always see the world like this.”
3B stops to peer over the side of a counter, watching something hot and salty being fried. “What do you mean?”
Turning back to him, she tugs gently on his hand, “I think your super soldier mind and eyes and ears, see what I see when I’m invisible. You don’t see anything more because you can already see it.”
“The world has always looked like this though,” he says, glancing around.
“But can you remember before?” She asks gently, peering at him curiously. “Do you remember what the world looked like before the serum?”
Bucky licks his lip and glances away, annoyed.
Because he can’t.
His memories of his early life are muted, dull, like a filter has been pulled over them. But he had chalked that up to the passage of time. He remembers the pain of the serum tracing blue through his veins, how painful everything had been for a time, bright and loud and forceful.
But that too had faded.
“Not really,” he admits.
She shrugs, bird-like. “Nothing special then, see? Just the boring old world as it has always been.”
And just like that, he’s not so bitter about it, not so weighed down with what could have been, with guilt and the haunted past. He reaches out with his other hand and presses his thumb to the center of her chin. “So you should be jealous of me then?” he mocks.
3B laughs, “Not in your wildest dreams, Barnes.”
A warmth floods his chest, eating his bones like a slow moving acid.
God, he loves her.
He pulls her close and kisses her gently, a nip at her bottom lip.
3B slides her hand across the back of his neck, hooks her elbow there and presses her forehead to his. Her other hand is still laced with his, holding on tight. “You’re something else, 3B.”
“Something good I hope?” She says it in that mordacious way of hers.
“Sure,” he says, letting sincerity creep into his voice. “The best thing.” Her eyes go wide and curious, flashing in the electric lights on the street. Bucky kisses her again, this time dipping his tongue between her lips, tasting her, searching.
She hums and rises to the tips of her toes, kissing him harder.
The chatter of the crowd around them irks him a little, makes him feel like he’s exposed to prying eyes, to the whole wide open sky. But it's just them, it's just her.
Bucky tries to pull his hand away from hers, to cradle her closer, but she doesn’t let him.
“Don’t let me go, dear,” she whispers when she breaks for air. His lips tingle, he would swear she was trying to devour him, to sow him inside her soul.
He laughs, just a little breathless, “I’m not. I just want to touch you.”
3B looks a tiny bit abashed at his admission. Pride and embarrassment war in him, but he doesn’t look away from her. She takes their carefully laced fingers and moves his hand to her waist. “How’s that?”
Bucky runs his hands up her sides, over her hips. He hums and tilts his head back, so he can take all of her in. “Fine.”
“Fine? You’re quite horrible.”
He grins, and she pokes the dimple in his cheek before taking his hand back from her hip and leading him down the road.
When she finds a stall she wants something from, she glances around and says, “Would you like to be visible? I don’t think anyone here is out for you.”
Bucky nods, figures he can handle it if someone is.
He has to put his gloves on one at a time, letting the hand still resting against her drift low over her ass. 3B laughs and he would do anything to keep her happy, keep her smiling, the past chased out of her eyes.
She lets both of them flicker into life then, still holding his hand, so they can stand in line for a bowl of pho. 3B tells him about her sister and mother then, what growing up with a strange power had been like, how the idea of superheroes had always held her imagination. She tells him about the comic books her sister had given her, about staking out Avengers Tower with her friends, how she had a mock shield hung on her bedroom wall as a teenager, how she fought in the Battle of New York against her mother’s wishes.
About how no one knew how lonely and isolating hiding a power could be.
“My sister thought the comics would make me feel less alone, like someone understood me. And they did a little. I imagined I could be one someday. After the Battle of New York, I knew that wasn’t true.” They find a low table by the road, sitting on stools across from each other, bright fairy lights strung over the eating area, between the slats of a wooden trellis overhead. The light casts her in a golden glow.
“How’d you know?”
3B sets down her chopsticks and ponders his question for a moment, mulling it over, chewing the question up to spit it out again. “I thought, if I was meant to be a hero, I would always know right and wrong. That it would come to me in a moment of clarity and there would be no more gray areas, no doubt. But I didn’t feel anything and when that day was over...I just felt empty. I felt sticky with violence. And I hated it.”
Bucky nods, knows all too well the feeling of unworthiness, or always questioning if you were doing the right thing, if you weren’t sinking into some slow bog of villainy.
3B’s eyes are far away, “And after the blip, killing those people...I was so sure it was the right thing to do. To save other lives, more lives, innocent lives, to free people. But it wasn’t and I failed and I know I can’t trust my own judgement. I don’t know what’s right and wrong. I debate all day long and I never know.”
Her arm rests palm up on the table, and he reaches out to touch the skin of her forearm gently, wishing he didn’t have gloves on. “I know, trust me I know. But, I think the fact that we think about it at all, says we’re doing something right.”
It goes unspoken but he knows she hears it.
Maybe we can be heroes yet.
The smile she levels him with nearly breaks his heart. “Bucky Barnes, I do believe you’re becoming wiser than me.”
3B is reclining on the couch, steadfastly ignoring Zemo, when Bucky walks into the Riga apartment.
“The Wakandans are here,” he says, beelining for the kitchen. He points at Zemo, “You have 8 hours.”
They had left Madripoor with little else than another lead, where Karli Morganthau and the stolen serum might be. It had gone as smoothly as he imagined it would, with a death and a fiery explosion.
3B turned out to be an excellent long range shot, and terrible with knives in small spaces, having tried to stab Zemo before he could shoot Nagel.
On the way to Riga, Sam had put 3B in charge of communications, asking her to coordinate their moves with Torres, should they need to call anything in, and Sharon, should they need assistance from her network, satellites or otherwise.
She’s finishing up chatting to Torres now, fiddling with her earpiece, smiling. “Thank you very much, Torres, you have been such a delight to speak with.”
They had become fast friends over the phone and radio waves.
“Sounds like she is flirting, yes?” Zemo asks as Bucky stops next to him at the counter and pulls out his own phone, scrolling through the news to see if the shootout at the shipping containers in Madripoor had made any headlines.
He doesn’t bother answering Zemo, gaze flicking up to watch as 3B clicks out of communication one last time. “I am wholeheartedly delighted that you’ll soon be in Wakandan custody,” she says, standing and crossing the room to lean on the counter next to Sam. “It's my greatest wish to see you carted off to prison.”
“Oh,” he says, “You would not just shoot me?”
He was still a bit sore over 3B nearly stabbing him through the hand.
3B doesn’t rise to the bait, smiling with all her teeth, like a wild animal challenging another predator. “Bucky Barnes has informed me I’m very handy with a gun. I very much trust his assessment of my firearm capabilities. Do not tempt me.”
Zemo shrugs, turning away from them, “It was sweet of you to defend me at least, James.”
“Hey, shut it,” Sam says, exasperated. “No one’s defending you. You killed Nagel.”
3B smiles and walks to the back kitchen counter, drawing her hand across Bucky’s back as she passes by before reaching out to flick Zemo on the ear for snarking off to Sam. As 3B begins to rummage through kitchen cabinets, an article catches his eye.
Bucky interrupts the bickering, still scanning the news. “Karlie bombed a GRC supply depot.”
“What? What’s the damage?” Sam asks immediately, leaning over to look at his phone.
Bucky lists off the injured and dead as 3B turns to peer over his shoulder too. She’s strangely tense behind him, reading the article, their list of demands, the threats of more attacks.
“Oh,” she whispers, sympathy welling in her voice. “Oh no.”
Bucky wants to turn and look at her, to see what she’s thinking, to see who that sympathy is reserved for, but Zemo has already climbed up on his soapbox, spouting off about radicalism and finishing the job for them, that Karlie was a supremacist.
But 3B interrupts, her voice soft. “Karlie,” she says, like she’s trying out the sound of her name. Her eyes snap to Sam. “Sam, you said she’s just a kid. How old?”
“Can’t be more than 20.”
“It's that warped perception that led to the Nazis, to Ultron, to the Avengers,” Zemo continues as though they hadn’t spoken, nearly ranting in that maddenly patient tone of his.
“You’re talking about our friends,” Sam warns.
Bucky moves away from them then, leaning against the wall instead. “The Avengers, not the Nazis,” he deadpans.
There’s an argument coming on, one 3B and Zemo have already had several times. He folds his arms over his chest and waits, smiling a little at the way 3B juts out her chin, squares her shoulders.
“Zemo,” 3B says, tilting her head to the side, “You make the mistake of equating children fighting for their homes to fascists. By their very nature they’re the opposite. One world, one people, yes? They aren’t being listened to. They need someone to listen to them. Killing their leader will only spur more to join them, make them more violent.”
Sam nods, “Karlie is radicalized but there has to be a peaceful way to stop her.”
“She’s not the only one radicalized,” 3B snipes at Zemo, swinging back around to shift through the cabinets. She finds some coffee grounds in a plastic container, sniffs them and then dumps them into a machine on the counter.
“Supremacist ideals can’t be divorced from the desire to become superhuman,” he says calmly, shrugging. “She will escalate until you kill her. Or she kills you.”
3B slams the top of the coffee pot shut. “But you must ask why she felt the need to become superhuman. Why did it come to this? Not for dominion and dominance. I know what she’s feeling. To be so desperate and unheard and alone that you’re willing to do almost anything.” She turns back to them, eyes sweeping to each of them in turn. “That isn’t supremacy, that is fear. She and her friends are being squeezed out of their place in the world. They’re demanding room, they’re demanding to be heard. There are ways to reason with them. It's not too late.”
“And maybe someone should have stopped you too.”
3B’s face goes blank, like she’s been sucker punched. For a moment she doesn’t say anything, something behind her eyes crumbling to ash. Like something she’s always known has just been confirmed.
Bucky pushes away from the wall, stalks toward Zemo. “Watch your fucking mouth,” he growls. “She isn’t like them. Don’t compare her to them.”
3B blinks, looking from him to Zemo and back with confusion, like she can’t understand the language being spoken.
Zemo smiles. “But isn’t she just like them, James?”
“And who are you to play God?” she snarls suddenly.
“Alright,” Sam says, putting a hand on his arm, “Don’t let him mess with you.”
Bucky steps away, not looking at 3B as he moves toward the couches instead. “Maybe you’re wrong. The serum never corrupted Steve.”
“But there’s never been another Steve Rogers.”
The discussion turns to finding Donya then, to finding Karlie, but Bucky can’t help but notice 3B adds nothing else. She keeps entirely silent, her eyes vacant and far away as she pours herself a cup of coffee and sits next to Sam.
She doesn’t once look over at him.
She follows Sam, Bucky and Zemo out onto the streets of Riga. The trio having decided to try their hand at street politics in finding Donya.
Sam and Bucky go about things through their own methods, by waltzing into a nest of terrified refugees and shouting to the high heavens, calling out for anyone that might know Donya.
They were likely to be unsuccessful, two American men bulldozing through streets that didn’t belong to them.
But she watches as Zemo turns down an alleyway and approaches a group of children, a few sweets in his hands. Though she may hate him, she has to admit he has more tact and was clearly very clever. The children flock to him.
She turns and heads into an apartment building and up the stairs after Sam, not wanting to be anywhere near Bucky.
She isn’t like them. Don’t compare her to them.
Bucky’s words, clearly said in her defense, ricochets around her mind. But wasn’t she exactly like them? Wouldn’t a better defense mounted have been that they did not deserve Zemo’s condemnation simply for demanding to exist? That they were frightened people fighting to exist, and so had she been?
She remembers the black fear that consumed her everyday after the blip, watching towns slip into anarchy, people herded and shuffled like cattle, martial law that had rained down like a fine spring storm.
Those same people, who had survived and fought and rebuilt and mourned, were now being told to leave, that none of it mattered, that their suffering and loss meant nothing. They did not matter because they had survived.
The blipped have returned and so everything was fixed, they were told.
Go home. Go back to your country. Leave your job and your home and your friends, because the blipped are back and they matter more.
It’s positively cruel.
Sam and Bucky had not been around for it, had not seen the world break into pieces. The blipped liked to believe that their return had fixed everything, in reality it had made everything worse.
And didn’t she know that best of all? Her mother and sister had returned and she was still utterly and completely alone. She has no place in the remade world, no identity, no family, no home.
She’s a recluse with one friend, so anxious about people floating away she spends most of her days watching others. She goes to school but to what end? What comes next?
She can’t imagine it because she doesn’t know the rules of the world anymore.
So what did Bucky mean when he said she’s not like them? She is exactly like them. The second people started disappearing five years ago, she became like them. She had done terrible things so people could keep their homes and towns and what little family they had left.
Maybe Bucky simply didn’t want to believe she could be like them, that it was easy for anyone to be like them. That they were everyone and no one.
She had thought Bucky understood her, accepted her.
Now she wasn’t sure he did, or if he only accepted the idea of her as that person. Not the trembling, dirty, blood drenched being she had been and still is.
At the top of the stairs she watches a couple of people disappear around a doorway, away from Sam. When Sam heads down a hallway and she’s left alone, she peaks around the open frame.
“Hello,” she says to one of the women, her coat threadbare and patched. “I’m looking for someone. Maybe you can help me.”
They glance over her shoulder. “Are you with him?” She jerks her chin out, indicating the corridor Sam had just disappeared down.
“No,” she says, watching them shrink together and away from her. She knows that fear, knows that hurt. “I used to know Donya,” she lies. “I just came back to the city and heard what happened.”
For a moment, they only stare at her, gauging her authenticity as a person the world had chewed up and spit out, rejected with violence.
She lets her shame and warring pride cover her like armor, the dangerous girl she used to be. Something in her must seem genuine, because they open up to her.
“One world,” one of them says.
“Yes,” she whispers back, feeling something crack inside her. “One people.”
“Donya’s funeral is this afternoon. She was like a mother to many of us here.” The woman in the jacket moves around and holds out her hand. She names the building where the funeral will take place and the time before releasing her hand. “If you need anything while you’re here, let us know. We’ll see what we can do for you.”
The Flag Smashers gave people their homes, helped them keep what they had earned.
She nods and dips her head, “Thank you.”
The woman releases her hand and she turns to go, a weight settling in her stomach as she passes by the meager sewing supplies, handfuls of broken crayons and children’s drawings, tattered clothes and peeling wallpaper.
She tries reminding herself that they have the serum, which is dangerous in anyone’s hands. She reminds herself that Sam is understanding and kind and would avoid violence wherever possible.
Sam and Bucky are waiting for her at the mouth of a street, Zemo still chatting with the kids there.
“Find anything?” Sam asks, watching her carefully.
She stares at the two of them, something battling inside her. She stands, silent and unmoving for so long that Bucky reaches out to her, cups her elbow in his hand and says her name, very gently, like she’s a spooked horse.
Bucky rarely calls her by her given name.
So she smiles and shakes off his hand. “No, nothing. I’m going to take a walk.”
“I have my phone,” she says, stepping away from him and setting off down the street. “Text me when you find something.”
She sits in a cafe for most of the day, sipping a cup of coffee and waiting for a text.
Zemo would tell Sam and Bucky about the funeral, she knew. The children will have told him what he needed to know. Then Bucky would text her details.
He’s texted her several times already, which is odd in itself.
There has been a time, not but a few months ago, where all her texts had gone unanswered. Silly little questions to pull Bucky to her and out of his shell.
He was dear to her from the moment she met him. She can’t imagine her life without him now, but she can’t bring herself to return his messages beyond a thumbs up so at least he knew she was okay.
It had been pointless to lie to them about finding nothing. Still, those women had given her that information believing her to be one of them.
She wouldn’t betray a trust like that one. She could not.
When the text comes, she rushes to catch up to them, meeting them outside the Riga apartment before carrying on to meet Zemo’s contact, the little girl who would lead them to the service.
Bucky sticks close to her side, his hand on the small of her back. “3,” he says, voice low as they fall behind Sam and Zemo. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” she says, chipper. “Perfectly okay, Bucky Barnes, not to worry.”
“Yes,” she snaps, avoiding his hand when he tries to snatch at hers. “I am fine.”
Her skin feels tight in that moment, itchy and raw. Like she’ll scream if anyone touches her. She digs her fingers into her palms to distract herself.
Bucky opens his mouth to say something else, his face twisted in hurt and confusion, when someone starts shouting at them from down the street, something about Karlie.
“Dear me, is that John Walker?”
“Yes,” Sam mutters. “Unfortunately.”
“Is he always so loud?” She queries as Sam shakes his head in exasperation. “This is a grown adult, yes?”
“How’d you find us now?” Bucky asks when they’re close enough to speak at a normal volume.
John rolls his eyes, voice raised and irritated, “C’mon, you think two Avengers can walk around Latvia without drawing attention?”
“John Walker,” she interrupts, “I don’t mean to criticize you upon first meeting, but perhaps shouting important intelligence in the center of the street is not so prudent?”
Sam and Bucky snort in unison.
“Who the hell are you?”
“Oh, just Bucky’s neighbor,” she says lightly, twisting her hands together.
“Why is your neighbor here, Barnes?”
Bucky looks momentarily floored, like he can’t remember how they’ve all come to be standing on the street together. “I...don’t know.”
“I wouldn’t concern yourself with that, Walker,” she says, just a tad harsh.
John crosses his arms over his chest, head jerking to the side in annoyance, cataloging her as a later problem. “Okay. Why don’t you start by telling us why you broke him out of prison?” He jabs a finger in Zemo’s direction, his voice rising in volume again.
“Technically he did that himself,” Bucky says drolly.
“You are drawing quite the crowd,” she murmurs, smart phones flashing up around them.
“If I need commentary from you, I’ll ask for it.”
The overwhelming sensation to knock Walker’s teeth down his throat makes her curl her fists into tight balls. “And if I needed an audience to communicate, I would simply hold a press conference. They likely have ears out.”
John Walker simply ignores her.
Sam pushes a hand into John’s chest when John steps up to Bucky, still on about sharing intelligence. She presses herself close to Bucky’s other side, protective and glaring. “Hey, take it easy before it gets weird,” Sam says, like he’s addressing toddlers.
They both step back and the tension eases just a little.
She wonders if working with a group is always this chaotic as Zemo points them up another road, toward the little girl from earlier.
She doesn’t bother listening to the group of men poorly strategizing as they walk up the street. She’s always worked alone before, reliant only on herself and her own wits. This seems infinitely more complicated.
They pause several times on the way up the road so that they can all argue with each other in the open street about how best to take down a civilian during a memorial service. She rolls her eyes, glancing at the locals watching them on either side of the street.
The only person speaking anything that makes any sense is Sam, who doesn’t immediately want to cause mayhem and injury to grieving people.
Lemar Hoskins is walking next to her when Zemo approaches the little girl who immediately starts leading them. “Is this normal?” She asks, gesturing to the backs of the still bickering people in front of them.
“Lately yeah, since this stuff with the serum came up,” he says, holding out a hand. “Lemar.”
“3B,” she says, shaking his hand, as Bucky glances over his shoulder at them.
“Your name is 3B?” He asks, sounding amused. “First name 3, last name B?”
She nods, mostly at Bucky. I’m okay.
“Yes,” she says, figuring it best not to be giving out her real name while Walker and Lemar are around.
They finally shuffle through a backdoor to a fairly industrial space, Sam immediately heading up the short set of stairs to the interior of the building after the girl.
Walker takes the opportunity to slam Zemo into a brick wall and handcuff him to the metal pipe beside him, which she appreciates.
“Sam,” she calls gently, “I’ll go with you. I think I can be of help.”
She starts forward when a hand grips her upper arm in a vice-grip. “I don’t think so. I don’t know anything about you so you’re staying right here where we can keep an eye on you.”
She turns and levels John Walker with a stern gaze. “You have no dominion over me, Walker. Now remove your hand. I’m a civilian going to a memorial service, that’s all.”
His hand tightens painfully on her arm, but she doesn't look away. She thinks he may bruise her. The room goes deadly silent, “I don’t think so, sweetheart.”
“Let go of her,” Bucky suddenly snarls, the sound ripped from the back of his throat, like it came from deep inside him. That little contained rage, rising up with a vicious protectiveness.
Walker glances at Bucky momentarily distracted, his grip loosening just enough for her to slip out of it and disappear.
In a moment of frustration she looses a long harrowing scream that only she can hear. Between Zemo and Walker’s god complexes and the warring testosterone of every man in the room, the day was beginning to wear on her.
“What the hell?” Walker asks in confusion looking around for her. He reaches out a blind hand which she promptly smacks down before crossing the room.
She darts past Sam, pulling him after her, the echo of Bucky’s words following them. “Don’t ever fucking touch her again, Walker, or you’ll lose that hand.”
3B is silent when Bucky returns to the apartment.
She’s been quiet all through Sam and Zemo’s conversation about the serum, about whether Sam would ever consider taking the serum if he were to be offered it.
Her eyes are fastened on Zemo who lies with a washcloth over his eyes, something burning deep in her gut. He had openly tried to kill her not an hour before and she was still stewing about it.
The conversation she and Sam had with Karlie had only served to further open the bleeding wound in her chest, to remind her exactly how unfair the world was. Karlie had been ready to listen to them, to come around to an understanding when Walker charged into the room and ruined everything.
She had been telling her about her own mother when Walker decided he knew better. As soon as Karlie started running, so had she. She hadn’t even had to think about it.
They had been so close. So, so close to understanding each other.
All they had needed was for her to give up the serum, everything else could be solved.
But could it? Would anyone listen? Was Karlie right?
She can still feel the rattle of gunfire as Zemo shot at the table she and Karlie crouched behind.
“Take my hand,” she had said. “I can get you out. I can make you invisible.”
To her surprise, Karlie had taken her hand, and let herself be led out. They were in a building in Riga, but all she had been able to see was a burning town, a forest ahead, flashlights darting.
She closes her eyes now and shakes her head, trying to rid herself of the images, of the feelings making a home in her chest. She couldn’t go back to that place in her mind, she couldn’t do it, not again.
A familiar thread of anxiety unspools around her heart, the air in the room suddenly becoming very thin.
“Something’s not right about Walker,” Bucky says, shucking off his jacket as he walks by, he touches her shoulder but she doesn’t react.
Sam scoffs, “You don’t say.”
“Well, I know a crazy when I see one,” he stops at the counter, pouring a splash of whiskey into a tumbler. “Because I am crazy.” Bucky pauses, swallowing, and then says, "Shouldn't have given him the shield."
Sam sighs, his patience also stretched thin, "I didn't give it to him."
“I think he got a vial of it,” she says suddenly, interrupting whatever insensitive thing Bucky was about to say, the words picked out of her mouth against her will.
The image of that room comes back to her, vials smashed and broken, serum leaking across the floor where Zemo lay unconscious, Walker with a vial in his hand.
She can’t be certain if it was full or not, if it had been broken or saved.
“What?” Sam asks sharply.
“Walker. I think he knocked Zemo out before he smashed all of them. I think Walker has a dose of the serum,” she says, her voice flat and toneless. “I helped Karlie out of the building and went back. I think he got one.”
“Fantastic,” Bucky mutters.
“Did he take it-,” Zemo starts to ask.
The doors suddenly burst open, Walker and Hoskins trotting into the room like they owned it. “All right. That’s it. Let’s go. I’m ordering you to turn him over.”
And suddenly she can’t handle it anymore. The sheer stupidity of the whole thing, the gutless, selfishness of it all, the unfairness, the lack of basic empathy.
The feelings inside her, rage and hate and guilt, finally explode and she disappears against her will.
“And I’m going to report the ghost,” Walker says, aggressively pointing to her place on the couch.
She screams out at him and launches a glass across the room, which Walker knocks away with the shield to her utter dismay. “Oh I hate you so, John Walker.”
“For what?” Sam asks, incredulous.
“Interfering with the apprehension of a dangerous criminal.”
“Go and try, Walker,” Bucky says. “You’ll never find her.”
“Hey, slow your roll. Shield or no shield the only thing you’re running in here is your mouth. 3B and Zemo have actually proved useful today. Now we had Karlie and you interfered.”
She decides she can’t listen to them anymore and gets up, shoulder checking Walker as she goes, leaving them to whatever violence they were about to unleash on each other. She can feel it brewing in the room, the horrible tension.
Distraction and pain build in her chest. It doesn’t even register with her when the Dora file past her into the building.
The fury and contrition ravaging her soul have blinded her and the only thing she can do is scream herself hoarse in the street.
Not a soul hears her.
A loneliness descends on her that she hasn’t felt in five years.
“Where the hell is 3B?”
Sam sighs, “We’ve got bigger problems.”
Bucky knows that, but it's hard not to worry, wonder where she had disappeared to. They’re nearly to the spot Karlie had asked them to meet after she had threatened Sam’s sister and nephews.
He tries not to think about it.
About Sam’s family, about Walker possibly with a dose of the serum, about the Dora Milaje’s anger with him, about Zemo disappearing to God knows where.
Everything seemed to be rapidly falling apart.
Most of all he tries not to think of the blank emptiness of 3B’s eyes since they had been in Riga.
A block from the building, she appears next to him, looking haggard but wearing the bulletproof vest he had given her in Madripoor. “Sorry for leaving you,” she says. “I couldn’t...couldn’t make myself visible for a time.”
“Are you okay?”
But he can tell she isn’t. 3B is drenched in sweat, her hands trembling. She takes shaky, slow breaths through her nose.
Her anxiety is palpable.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers to him. “I thought I could do this. But I fear I’m making the same mistakes all over again. I can’t leave that part of me behind.”
He isn’t sure what she means by that, but it doesn’t matter. Because Bucky turns to her and she’s already gone again, like dust in the wind, like she’s nothing more than a ghost. He feels the brush of her hand over his cheek, the caress of her thumb against his mouth.
Sam glances over at him. “You good?”
He isn’t but he nods.
“What did she mean by that?”
“I don’t know.”
Karlie is waiting for them.
The battle goes up.
Up the stairs. Up to the top floor of the building, where Walker and Hoskins fight off a dozen souped up street fighters.
Something about the whole thing is familiar, like a movie he’s seen before. Bucky tries to stay close to Sam, to have his back should he need it. He’s not really sure who they’re supposed to be protecting, whose side they should be on.
All he knows is that Karlie will try to kill Walker, that she doesn’t want to hurt Sam if she doesn’t have to.
He knows 3B is there somewhere. People and things around the room suddenly find themselves displaced mid-step.
Knives are knocked out of the air. Weapons are stripped away and flung into corners.
When Karlie gets her opportunity to stab Walker through the heart, Lemar knocks her out of the way. In the intervening seconds 3B flickers to life, panic written over her face and lunges, trying to draw Karlie back from attacking Lemar to get to Walker. She misses the collar of Karlie’s shirt by a millimeter and the next kick Karlie levels at Lemar slams him into a stone pillar across the room.
He doesn’t move, blood drips from his mouth. For a few long moments, no one moves.
Karlie takes off her mask. She looks stunned, like she can’t understand what’s happening.
Bucky realizes in that moment how hopelessly outmatched they are. He doesn’t want to say that they’re on Walker’s side but of them, only he and Walker are super soldiers while the entirety of Karlie’s group seem to be.
The Flag Smashers pour from the room like blood from a wound, abandoning ship, flitting out of sight as fast as they can.
3B darts right after them. “He’s going to kill her. Go! Walker is going to kill her!” She turns and looks back at him, pleading, “Go! Please!”
And Bucky hears what she isn’t saying.
She and Sam aren’t super soldiers, they’d never catch up.
Bucky tears off after her, Sam just behind, until street level when 3B peels off in another direction, following something they can’t see.
“There’s a crowd gathering,” Sam says, dread weighing down his voice. “That way.”
They follow the chatter, glancing around. “He wouldn’t kill her,” Bucky says, trying to believe his own words. “Not like this.”
Sam doesn’t answer.
They emerge onto a square where cell phones are already held aloft. Walker is standing above a body on the ground, the shield drenched in blood on his arm, long reaching splatters of red.
Bucky goes cold at the sight.
Everything seems to move in slow motion, like a snow globe set in molasses.
Every legacy the shield holds comes crashing down around him, burned up in a single action.
It's not Karlie he’s killed but one of the other Flag Smashers.
Bucky glances around, searching the crowd for Karlie when he spots her. Karlie and 3B are across from them, on the other side of the square. They both look horror stricken, disbelief and grief spread thick over them like a cloud.
3B meets his eyes.
Lodged in her gaze is a sorrow so deep and wide, it could wash the world anew. There is something broken in her stare, like the world has betrayed her for a final time.
Bucky opens his mouth to call out to her, remembers how much stalk she put in heroes, in right and wrong, in the shield in Walker’s hands.
But he’s too late. Bucky watches as she reaches out, takes Karlie's hand, and disappears them from the world.
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Taken: Part 9
A/N: There is smut so please use caution
“I like them,” May rest against the door frame with her arms crossed over her chest and her glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose.
“I’m assuming when you same ‘them’ you mean dumb and dumber.” You smirked and rifled through the series of dresses you’d shoved deep into the back of your closet.
“They’re very charming. It’s no wonder they got to where they are now.” May tilt her head and then pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “I was…thinking of dating again.”
“May?” You grabbed a few hangars with short dresses on them and tossed them behind you onto the bed. “Dating?”
“I met someone. His name is Happy.”
“Happy?” You questioned, setting the few choices down on the mattress. “His name is Happy?”
“Happy Hogan,” she seemed to be in a daze, thinking of him while wringing her fingers together in front of her, “he makes me happy.”
“But..?” You questioned her on her hesitancy.
“Can I…should I…dare again? After Ben-“ May sighed and pushed herself off the door frame and walked further into your room.
She walked toward your bed and sank on the mattress, folding her hands in her lap. She turned her head and looked out the window before she started chewing her bottom lip. She was deep in thought, thinking and contemplating. You knew she carried this guilt or would carry responsibility for moving on from uncle Ben, thinking she would need permission from you or Peter.
Even though she didn’t, she knew how much Ben meant to you and Peter. She knew that the two of you had thought of Ben like your father when your parents died.
“May, uncle Ben has been gone a long time.” You turned and faced her. “You don’t need to feel guilty for being with someone who makes you happy.”
“Peter and I are adults. You are an adult. We’re all free to make our own decisions, and if you want to be with Happy, then you should. You don’t need to ask for permission.”
“Peter be damned!” You scoffed. “If Peter has that much to say about it, then he deserves to get his ass kicked.”
“You think I should?” May played with the neckline of one of the dresses you thought about wearing, distracting herself again. “Your uncle Ben and I…you and Peter, are like my own kids, and I don’t…
“You don’t need our permission, May. You deserve to make yourself happy. Put yourself first.” She lifted her head when you finished speaking and smiled small. She leaned toward you and squeezed your hand, her eyes becoming glossy from the threat of tears that threatened to start rolling down her cheeks.
“You deserve to be happy too, sweetie.” She brushed her thumb across your knuckles and then pulled away. “I think you should wear a black dress. It’s classic yet sexy.”
“You think so?” You stood and moved around the end of your bed, picking up the dress by the hangar, holding it against your body.
“Absolutely!” Your aunt stood after you had and walked to your closet. She bent down and scooped a pair of red heels from the shoe rack and held them out to you by the tips of her fingertips, the toes of the heels swaying back and forth. “You like these?”
“They’re great.” You took them and tossed them on the bed with the black dress and took the reject dresses and hung them back up. “Thanks for coming over and helping me.”
“You’re welcome, honey. I know it’s been a long time since your last date,” she hip-bumped you and flashed you a smile, “but I’m always happy to help.”
“So the dress and the heels-“
“-and a red lip. Red lipstick is classic.” She faced you more head-on and brushed your hair behind your ears, the two of you holding each other’s gaze for a moment. “Your parents would be proud of you.”
“You’re going to make me cry, and if I cry-“
“-I’ll cry. I know. But it’s true.”
“Thank you, May.” You cleared your throat. “I should get ready.”
“I wanna see you head out.” May dropped her hands from your face and placed her hands on your shoulders. “Like you’re going to homecoming again.”
“May nothing. Get dressed, and I’ll help with your makeup.” She pats your cheek and then slips out of your room to let you get ready for your date.
The dress you chose was form-fitting and hip-hugging with off-the-shoulder straps that curved elegantly over the swells of your breasts and had just hinted at what was laying under the fabric. It was soft to the touch, almost feeling like butter under your fingertips, making you almost sure that Steve and Bucky would appreciate how it felt under their touch.
“I’m ready when you are!” May called from the other side of the door. “And I should remind you that they’re gonna be here in half an hour!”
“Different suit, same entitled smirk.” You cocked your hip and studied Steve from where he stood, leaning against the side of the limo.
“You look good, princess. You clean up just for us?”
“Oh no,” you walked toward him, doing a slow spin halfway between the limo and the front door to your apartment building, “I’ve turned myself into a sugar baby. Can you and your pimpmobile move? I’m going to be late meeting him?”
“Oh sweetheart,” Steve’s smirk grew as he opened the door to the limo for you, “your daddy’s waiting inside for you.”
“I thought I told you not to say that again, you fucking prick.” Your eyes became fixed into a glare that bore into him. “You are not-“
“Hey baby, get your ass in the car or one of your daddies-“
“Fuck you both with an iron spear.” You groaned but proceeded to get into the limo anyway. “You have to be so irritating?”
“Only for you, honey,” Bucky smirked and looked you over with no motion or attempt to hide the appreciation and thriving lust that was prominent in his pale blue eyes. “You gonna give your daddy a kiss?”
“Will my foot up your ass, suffice?”
“Come on, sugar,” Steve nudged you with his hand, “move your ass, or I’ll move it for you.”
“Where are you assholes taking me anyway? Someplace of ill-repute?” You turned your head toward Bucky and looked him over in the same manner as he had looked at you.
You knew he looked damn good, even more so in the Tom Ford suit that complimented his eyes and his skin tone. However, the look was only amplified by the top two buttons he had left popped, exposing a sneak peek at the planes of his chest and the dark chest hair that gave him that undeniable sex god appeal.
“Eyes are up here, honey.” He crooned, lifting your chin with his fingers. “Keep looking at me like that, and we won’t make it to the restaurant without you having something dripping from those pretty lips.”
“You want your lipstick to run, princess?” Steve was behind you, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.
“Jokes on you fuckers,” you looked over your shoulder at Steve, and then Bucky, “this shit don’t run.”
The tension between you three had skyrocketed. The sexual tension was electric, and if you could’ve physically seen it crackle like tendrils of lightning, it would’ve been equally beautiful and frightening.
“Damn, you have no idea what you do to us,” Bucky growled, his hand first making contact with your knee before he started to slide it up your thigh.
“Don’t jizz yourself. It’d be embarrassing.” You pushed his hand off of your leg.
“You want a testament of how he can go, baby?” Again, Steve’s lips brushed against the shell of your ear. “Hmm? How long can we both go?”
“I’m guessing the record is somewhere under 10 minutes.” You shifted on the seat and tapped his cheek twice. “But good effort. You know practice makes perfect. Maybe by the time you’re 101, you’ll reach a half hour.”
“You’re mouthy, kitten.”
“Oh, it’s kitten now?” You raised an eyebrow. “So what’s that make you two? Dogs?”
“No one else would put up with your mouth.” Steve slid his hand around your hips on the seat, only ceasing his movement when his fingers were tucked under your thigh.
“And if anyone ever lays a hand on you,” Bucky, in a tender moment, grabbed your hand and placed the first of three kisses to the back, “they’re fucking finished.”
“Thank you for the offer,” you pulled your hand away, “but no one is going to come after me. As you said, no one could handle my mouth. I’d be on the streets within minutes.”
“You-“ a tap came to the privacy divider of the limo, the driver signalling your arrival.
“So where are we going? Are you going to tell me anytime soon? Or blindfold me?”
“Oh sweet girl,” a hand snaked around your waist and up to the curve of your breasts, “when we blindfold you for the first time, it’ll be in a place where no one can hear you’re screaming our names.”
“I can’t tell if that’s supposed to be kinky or terrifying.” You slid his hand off your breasts and placed it back down against the seat, “either way, we’re here. Get out.”
Steve smirked in return and grabbed your hand, weaving your fingers together. He gave you a light tug as he started getting out of the limo, with you behind him. When you had gotten out of the spacious vehicle, you gazed at the building set before you, noting the rich red bricks and vintage doors that were momentarily closed, though you could see people inside the building, dressed in white dress shirts with ties and black aprons tied around their waist.
“You rented the whole space?” You frowned, watching them occasionally glance out the window to see the three or you.
“Thought our first date should be private.” He mumbled in your ear, his hands sliding down your waist and your hips to the curve of your ass.
“Fucking rich people.” You scoffed but followed Steve anyway when the doors had opened and a maitre d' greet both of them.
“Good evening, sirs.” He bowed his head like he was talking to royalty and stepped aside. “The table you requested is ready.”
“Fucking rich people.” You grumbled again, following them into the restaurant and up a set of stairs to a balcony overlooking the rest of the restaurant.
The private dining section itself was formed of half-circular seating arrangements that were strategically placed around the space. The seats weren’t cheap cloth like in the diners you would’ve frequented, or even vinyl. The seats were made of leather, either rich burgundy or onyx black that had been a statement theme and a well-paired ‘opposite’ to the crystal chandeliers that hung daintily from the ceiling and had cast the space in an intimate and soft glow.
“Why’d you want our first date private? Think I’m going to suck you off under the table?” You approached the arrangement they’d chosen; only the table had been removed, leaving behind the half-circular bench seats and a small tray with three wine glasses and a bottle of wine that surely cost more than your rent.
Bucky’s laugh was deep, brimming with lust, and he did quick work of caging you between his body and Steve’s. Your back was to his chest, and your face was mere inches from Steve’s.
“Course not, baby,” he busied his fingers by lifting the hem of your dress inch by inch, “you’re gonna sit back and relax while we suck you off.”
You turned your head to look back at Bucky, but Steve placed his forefinger and thumb on your chin and gently turned your head and your attention back to him.
He was sitting on the bench, his right hand unbuttoning his suit pants and yanking down his zipper, drawing your attention to his raging hard-on that looked as if it would tear the damn seam.
“Eyes on me, princess.” He hummed, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip. “I want you to look at me. Don’t take your eyes off me.”
You felt Bucky shifting behind you, his hands moving down your hips and thighs, the cool metal of his ring making you shiver under his touch. He was kneeling; you knew he was without having to look.
“Dinner will take some time to cook,” Steve groaned in pleasure when you parted your lips and started sucking on the tip of his thumb.
“You gonna be a good girl for once in your life?” Bucky questioned, erotically kissing and nipping at your ass through your dress. “Spread your legs for daddy.”
“Spread your legs, sweetheart.” Steve pulled his thumb from your mouth and leaned in to kiss you, mumbling into the kiss, praising you when you listened, “good girl.”
“Bucky, what’re you-“ your question ended with another soft yet searing kiss and the quick yank of your dress being pulled over the curve of your ass.
Bucky was shameless, and so was Steve.
With your dress over your hips, Bucky began palming at your ass through your underwear, occasionally pulling at your panties and letting them snap against you. He was taking every ounce of time he could to study the contours of your ass and your pussy.
“Fuck baby,” Bucky lifted his right hand and rubbed his fingers against your panty-covered pussy, whistling in admiration when he pulled his fingers away and saw how wet you made his fingers, “you’re pretty pussy needs attention.”
“Do you need attention, princess?” Steve had yanked his cock out of his pants and started stroking his thick, throbbing length while maintaining eye contact with you. “Tell Bucky what you need.”
“Thought you said I wouldn’t have to do any of the work. What happened to relaxing?”
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Steve cupped your cheek, “I’m going to enjoy the show. Now tell Bucky what he wants to hear.”
“Tell your daddy what you want.”
“You fuck-“ your protest morphed into a strangled gasp when Bucky cut you off with the sensation of his lips and mouth sucking and lapping at your pussy through your panties.
Your hands immediately flew to Steve’s legs as your nails dug into his thighs. You were gasping for air, driven to an unintelligible muttering as Bucky continued on a ruthless path.
His tongue was moving back and forth along your puffy pussy folds through your panties, and the occasional nudge of his fingers against your clit had you slowly starting to lose your mind.
“Pretty girl,” Steve grunted, moving his hand up and down his cock while Bucky was working on devouring you, “you’re doing so well, aren’t you? Pretty girl letting Bucky suck your cunt.”
“Fuck! Oh, fuck!” Your jerked your hips and tried to pull away and had only managed to do it once before he looped his hands around your thighs and yanked you back, holding you against him.
“You don’t get to pull away, beautiful.” Steve was stroking his dock, almost lazily, watching your face contort in pleasure.
“Bucky, please-“ you groaned, and your head fell forward when you felt him push your panties aside before his tongue swiped against your soaking, dripping cunt.
“You’re so damn sweet.” He purred against you, teasing you by suckling at your swollen labia’s like he was a hungry infant only to pull away with a pop. “I could never get tired of feeling you, of tasting you.”
You were thrown into an inescapable pit of pleasure, thrown headfirst into this encompassing heat that was driving you toward the edge of a climax. You were going to cum, and you were going to cum all over him.
“I think she’s close, Buck.”
“Of course you are, sweetie.” He crooned into you, kissing the globes of your ass as he rubbed his fingers against your swollen pussy, spreading your leaking fluids everywhere he possibly could from the bottom of your cunt right to the puckered hole. “You’re going to cum for me? Be a good girl?”
“Fuck!” You cursed and shoved your hips back, shoved your aching and dripping cunt into his face. “Fucking do something-“
Bucky grunted and dove back into you, using two fingers to keep your cunt satisfied while his lips found your clit. He suckled at your hard nub while thrusting his two fingers in and out of your aching hole, in and out of your desperate, needy pussy.
“Shit, shit, shit-“ your cunt squeezed his fingers; they sucked his thick digits into the expanse of your cunt as you were finally driven over that edge.
“Good girl, good girl.” Steve cupped your cheek and drew your attention to him. “In your mouth-“
You jerked and jumped at the chance by spreading your lips and taking the tip of his cock into your mouth. You started sucking as hard as you could, your tongue lapping against his thick shaft as his hand wove into your hair, and he uncouthly shoved your head down further.
He raised his hips, and you moaned again, screaming their names as Bucky drove you to another orgasm and Steve started fucking your face.
You were on a blissful high, a truly otherworldly experience while being feasted on by Bucky and taking your fill of Steve’s cock.
You were in your little world. You were enjoying the attention you so longed for.
All while being ignorantly unaware of the phone calls and the texts arriving on your phone, which was tucked into your clutch.
‘AUNT MAY HAS BEEN ATTACKED. AT THE HOSPITAL. WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!’
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Mommy's Little Pet [NSFW]
ao3 link! no, it's more bad smut. enjoy it and tell me what you think!
69. “Come here, baby, let Mommy take care of you.”
Usually the games Lady Dimitrescu’s daughters played with the servants didn’t end fatally since it was starting to get harder to find new replacement staffing. But tonight, you had angered the Lady’s youngest, Daniela, and she was out for your blood.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are little mouse.” Daniela’s voice rang out through the hallways as you ran from her. “You can’t run forever.”
You knew that but it wasn’t stopping you from doing just that. You had no idea where you were going, just taking as many left and right turns as you could until you hit a dead end. You could hear Daniela’s maniacal laughter behind you as you looked for a place to hide, finally deciding on one of the wardrobe closets in the room.
“No, no, no, no,” You said to yourself as you squeezed your eyes shut. Maybe you could quickly escape if she found you. You could hear the buzzing of her insects gets closer as she got closer to your hiding spot until a loud voice said her name.
“Daniela!” Lady Dimitrescu yelled out.
You could hear Daniela’s sigh. “I’ll get you next time little mouse.” She whispered just loud enough for you to hear her. “Yes, Mother?” Daniela replied as she flew away from the closet.
You cracked the closet opened a bit and watched as Lady Dimitrescu placed her hands on her hips as her daughter approached her. “What have I told you about playing games with the servants? Especially my pet.”
“Not to. But th-“ Her Mother cut her off.
“I do not want to hear it, Daniela. Go find something else to do.” Daniela opened her mouth to protest again, but Lady Dimitrescu’s face hardened. “Now.” She growled out.
Daniela bowed her head. “Yes, Mother.”
Lady Dimitrescu waited until her daughter was out of earshot before speaking to you. “You can come out now.” Lady Dimitrescu said softly. You slowly opened the door more to see her standing a few feet in front of it, her hands still on her hips. “Oh, you poor thing, you must be frightened. Come here, little one, let Mommy take care of you.” Lady Dimitrescu cooed as she opened her arms to you.
You darted out of the closet and into her embrace, tears falling down your face. “I’m sorry, Mommy. I didn’t mean to push her. I’m sorry.” You whimpered as you clutched her dress in your hands.
“Oh dear, whatever are you talking about?” Lady Dimitrescu asked as she picked you up and carried you back to her chambers. “Hmm? Who did you push, Daniela?” She asked. You nodded your head. “Okay. And why did you push her, my darling?”
“She was going to hurt her.” You whispered into her neck. “The maid. She, she tripped over the, um, the carpet and spilled tea on Daniela. The maid, Aurora, she apologised, but your dau-daughter, she didn’t accept it. It made her upset and she had a knife and I was… coming downstairs and I pushed her so she wouldn’t, you know, hurt Aurora.” You explained.
Lady Dimitrescu hummed. “I’m sure, the maid, Aurora, yes?” You nodded your head. “Alright, love, I’m sure Aurora appreciates you doing. Mommy should reward you, yes?”
You raised your head to look at her. “Rew-reward me? You’re not, you’re not mad?” You asked.
Lady Dimitrescu cupped your cheek as she sat down on the bed. “No, Mommy’s not mad at you, sweet one. Mommy’s proud of you.” She pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Now, how would you like to be rewarded, little one?” You looked down at her lap before looking back at her eyes. “Oh, you want Mommy’s cock buried inside of you, is that it?” She asked in your ear. You nodded your head and whimpered when her hand gripped the back of your neck to make you look up at her. “Verbal answer, sweet one.”
You gulped. “Yes, Mommy, that’s what I want.” You said softly. She chuckled and pressed a small kiss to your neck before pushing you off her.
“Well, I wouldn’t be a very good Mommy if I didn’t give you want you wanted, now would I?” Lady Dimitrescu asked before stripping off her clothes. “Now where did I put it?” She asked out loud.
“This?” You asked holding up the strap on. She smiled at you causing you to smile back at her slightly.
“What would I do without you, iubirea mea?” She asked as she took the strap on from you and harnessed it around her waist. She picked you up and sat you down you were straddling her. “I’ll ease it into you slowly like I always do, but you get to set the pace, okay?” You nodded your head. Gasping when she picked you up so she could slide you onto the toy.
“Mommy,” You said softly as you placed your hands on her shoulders to steady yourself until she was all the way in you. “I love the way you fill me up, Mommy.” You said as you pushed yourself up and down on her cock.
“Of course you do, sweet one.” Lady Dimitrescu said as she thrusted her hips up to meet you as you went down causing you to moan. “You can always go faster, little one.”
You grinned a bit. You bounced up and down on her faster, her thrusting started to get a little sloppy. You could feel your orgasm start to bubble up as she placed her hands on your waist to steady her thrusts into you.
“Mommy, I’m so closed. Please, Mommy.” You pleaded with her as you pressed your lips to hers.
“Does Mommy’s little pet want to cum?” You nodded your head. “Since you’ve been so good, I’ll allow you to.” She replied.
You pressed your lips to hers again, tips of her fangs piercing the bottom of your lip. You hissed as her tongue ran over your bottom lip, moaning at the feel of her tongue in your mouth. You pulled your mouth away to look at her as you got closer to your orgasm. Lady Dimitrescu kissed down your jaw before she licked the patch of skin where your pulse point was before biting you. You moaned loudly as she drank from your neck and your orgasm crashed over you. She only let up on her drinking when you came down from your high, feeling dizzy from the blood loss.
“So good, Mommy.” You mumbled against her skin before she laid you down on the bed. “Hold me?” You asked, your arms weakly reaching out for her
She laid down beside you and kissed your forehead as she wrapped her arms around you and you snuggled into her body. “Of course. Anything for mommy's little pet.”
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Side note: when you request make sure you put if you want anon or not, but for now i’m going to mark out just in case you forget to make yourself anon.
Summary: You’ve been openly teasingly Schlatt in public, and he gets tired of it.
NSFW MINORS DNI.
Warnings: Humiliation, degrading
Word Count: 1403
Y/N was following in behind Schlatt, as she looked at the ground beneath her boringly. Being Schlatt’s fiancé had it’s perks, but it also had it’s flaws. You could order people around, do whatever you wanted, but you hardly ever got to see Schlatt. Now here they were, walking to yet again, another meeting. This was the third meeting today, and Y/N was growing tired of it. She didn’t like the fact that Schlatt had been ignoring her when she kept trying to get his attention. “Y/N you okay?” Fundy asked, and Y/N looked up and nodded her head. “Yeah, I am okay.” She said, and Schlatt glanced at her before going back to his conversation with Quackity.
They were discussing something about Dream helping them, and she blanked out after that. She ignored their words, and kept her attention on Schlatt’s thigh. The way he kept flexing and unflexing it when he would move around to prove a point. She slowly reached her hand over, and placed her hand on his now flexed thigh. “S-so maybe D-Dream can help.” He fumbled over his words when he felt her hand on his thigh. Looking down, he grabbed her wrist, squeezing it as a warning before he moved it off of his thigh. Y/N pouted at this, and looked up at Fundy, the one person she was close with. He knew how she felt with the whole Schlatt situation, and he instantly shook his head.
“Don’t you do it.” He mouthed, and Y/N looked away innocently, “Alright, I will go talk with Dream.” Tubbo said getting up and leaving. This left: Schlatt, Fundy, Quackity, and Y/N in the room. “Fundy do you think you could go and try and find Tommy and Wilbur for me?” Schlatt asked, and Fundy nodded his head. “Yes I can.” He said, “When would you like me to do that?” He asked, and Schlatt was about to answer until he noticed Y/N’s hand sink down into her pants. Fundy knew what was going on, and he sighed as he knew he warned her not to do it. “Schlatt? Fundy asked you a question.” Y/N spoke up, breaking Schlatt from his stare. Looking up, he took in a deep breath to compose himself, “You can go once me and Quackity decide what we will do with them.” He explained, before he heard a sharp breath from Y/N.
Looking over slightly, he saw she was now full on touching herself. She made sure she looked like nothing was happening, she kept a straight face the entire time. “Schlatt? You okay bud?” Quackity asked, for the third time, so he softly shook his shoulder. “Schlatt?” He asked, and Schlatt looked over at Quackity. “Yeah I am fine, we are going to cut this meeting short. I am a bit tired from all these meetings.” He said, and Fundy tried to hold back a laugh as he knew Y/N won the little battle. Y/N pulled her hand away from herself and looked at Schlatt innocently, “You do look tired, I’ll stay here and let you rest.” She said, and Schlatt instantly glared. “I’d prefer if you came with me. It would help me sleep better.” He said, and grabbed her wrist dragging her out.
Fundy just waved at her simply, mouthing a quick ‘good luck’ to her. “What the hell?” Quackity said, looking over at Fundy for any clues, and Fundy just shrugged, “Maybe he has sleeping problems?” Fundy said, and Quackity rolled his eyes, scoffing. “Right.” He said, and sat back down, sighing. Schlatt on the other hand had a death grip on Y/N’s wrist, dragging her to his office. “If you’re gonna pull a stunt like that and act like a slut in front of people, you got your wish.” He growled, throwing her on his couch, and forcefully opened his closet. “I was going to keep this for just us when the time was right, but you just had to turn around and be a little whore.” He said walking over to her, “Put this on, and if I hear one complaint, that cute little ass of yours is going to be purple and blue. Got it?” He said, and Y/N quickly nodded grabbing the maid outfit.
Walking over to the bathroom, Schlatt grabbed her arm, “Where the hell do you think you’re going? If you can touch yourself in public then you can change in front of me like the slut you are.” He said roughly pulling her back, and Y/N whined, and shifted awkwardly under his intense stare. Slowly she undressed, and slowly put on the maid outfit, “Don’t you dare forget the fucking bunny ears.” He said, and she reluctantly put the bunny headband on her head. “Where did you even get this?” Y/N mumbled, her whole confidence gone. Schlatt chuckled, and looked at her, “I know some people.” He said, motioning for her to twirl. Sighing, she slowly twirled, making the skirt rise up a bit. “Here’s what you are going to do, you are going to wear this outfit while I fuck the shit out of you, got that?” He said, and Y/N nodded her head, “You weren’t fucking shy ten minutes ago, use your words you slut.” He yelled, and Y/N bit her bottom lip.
“Yes sir.” She said loud and clear, and Schlatt smirked. “Get on your hands and knees now.” He demanded, and Y/N did so, getting comfortable on the couch, “Ass up more.” He said, forcefully grabbing her hips pulling her ass up more. Moving the skirt of the dress up, he roughly smacked her ass, causing Y/N to yelp. Not wasting any time, Schlatt pulled down Y/N’s underwear, and her quickly undid his tie, putting it around her neck to use as a leash. Unbuttoning and unzipping his pants, he pulled his underwear and pants down in one go together. Grabbing her hips, he aligned himself, moving one hand up he grabbed the tie and pulled on it making Y/N lean back a bit. Slamming into her without a warning, caused her to scream out in both pain and pleasure. “Holy fuck Schlatt!” She yelled out, and Schlatt ‘tsked’ “Watch that pretty mouth of yours.” He said, spanking her once again, snapping his hips against hers repeatedly. “You think you can pull the shit you did in there, and get away with it? Don’t think I didn’t notice you flirting with Fundy to try and make me jealous.” He said, as he picked up the pace, Y/N’s moans being the only reply.
“You’ve been a bad girl, and bad girl’s get punished.” He said, and Y/N whimpered, the pleasure being overwhelming since they’ve never had sex like this. Hearing a knock on the door, Dream’s voice was muffled from the door, “Schlatt are you in there?” He asked, and Schlatt smirked pulling Y/N up by the tie, whispering in her ear. “You like the idea of being caught don’t you? Is that why you were touching yourself in public?” He asked, now ramming into her, so she would, “Let him hear you, let him know who is fucking you.” He said before roughly throwing her back down, going deeper than he already was. “Fuck! Schlatt I’m close!” She choked out, in between moans and sobs. Dream, froze, and slowly turned around, “I’ll come back another time then.” He yelled walking out. Schlatt chuckled and continued, before his movements became slower, and sloppier as he was growing close. Y/N was now nearing her fourth orgasm, “Did you hear that? You little cumdump, everyone will know who you belong to.” He groaned out, feeling himself cum deep inside of her as she finally hit her fourth orgasm.
Riding out their highs, Schlatt pulled out and laid fell back onto the couch, while Y/N fell foward. Schlatt got a great view of his cum leaking out of her, and he bit his bottom lip. “You can clean yourself up maid.” He said, and Y/N whined, getting up and cleaned herself while Schlatt cleaned himself as well. “You are to wear that around Manberg for the rest of the day. Be the Bunnygirl that you are and work.” He said, shoving her out of his office.
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rose tinted glasses. pt.iii
pairing: dark!wanda maximoff x fem!reader
a/n: it’s been a while since i’ve written something this long so i hope it’s okay yejdjekekfmrjs
summary: wanda’s lost everything she’s ever loved, but she’ll go to any length to make sure the same doesn’t happen to you.
warnings (18+ only!!! minors dni): dubcon, mommy kink verbal humiliation, praise kink, vaginal fingering, choking, spanking, slapping, edging, vibrator use, squirting, strap-on use, vaginal penetration, oral sex on strap-on, unhealthy relationship, emotional manipulation
proceed with caution because this is a dark fic. if this contains material that you are not comfortable with, please skip over it.
words: 4.2k | marvel masterlist. | navigation post.
you do not have permission to translate/repost my works anywhere! likes, comments, and reblogs are always welcome & appreciated <3
one. » two. » three. » four. » five.
Wanda held onto your hand tight as she walked you back to your apartment. She managed to keep you smiling the entire night which was a good sign,
making her hopeful of seeing you again. It may have taken some messing around with your thoughts but as long as both of you were enjoying yourselves, did it really matter?
“Would you like to come in?” you asked. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I planned on staying up for a bit and thought that you could keep me company.”
“I’d like that.” Wanda kept a firm grasp on your hand as you pulled her into the place she had already grown familiar with. You hadn’t known of all the night she’d snuck in to see you, and even clean up after you. It was a common occurrence for you to be out of it when you woke up in the morning, so you assumed that you had been the one to tidy up your apartment the night prior or even the women that you occasionally brought back with you. Perhaps they thought you were incapable of taking proper care of yourself and took pity on you.
“So what do you think?” you questioned, breaking the silence that had fallen over the pair of you for the first time that entire night.
“I see you’re still a mess,” Wanda mumbled, scanning your apartment. No wonder you needed her in her life to provide you a little bit of guidance.
“What?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at her.
“I said that I really like your dress.” Wanda smiled, fiddling with the bottoms of it. “You know the one you’re wearing right now.” Her eyes briefly drifted off to the garment laying on the couch.
Although that would look nice on you as well…if it hadn’t had that stain on it.
“Thank you.” you smiled, stepping back to admire it yourself. “It’s one of my newer ones, I can't really stand wearing the other ones anymore.”
“Why not?” Wanda asked, furrowing her eyebrows. You navigated throughout the room, picked up all of the clothes that didn’t belong there, and threw them into the wash. Among one of them was a bra that Wanda knew didn’t belong to you. Too bad you'd never be able to return it to the rightful owner. Fortunately, she had been able to spook them enough to keep them away from you without having to use much force. There was no reason for her to have more skeletons in her closet.
“I just needed some change, that’s all.” So you traded out your clothes as often as you traded out women. You wouldn’t have to worry about either anymore, Wanda would make it her mission to bring stability to your life. “I’m sorry, it’s usually not that messy.” Well, yeah because Wanda was always picking up after you once you’d passed out for the night.
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it. I’ve seen much worse.” That was true, some of the scenes she’d come across in passing from living around so many boys were horrible. Then, there were the unfortunate ones that had come along with her job that she wished she could unsee. However, none of that mattered when you were around. Your presence was enough to pull Wanda out of the miserable world around her. With you, she felt the closest she had to happiness since before the tragic losses of her parents and brother.
“My room happens to be a lot more organized.” Wanda hadn’t expected you to be so forward, but she wasn’t one for complaining when things were going her way.
“Does it?” The brunette teased, following behind you as you slowly made your way through the hall. “I think I’m going to need to see it myself to believe you.”
“Well come on then, I’ll show you.” you giggled, dragging Wanda into your bedroom. Your hands went to the back of her neck, closing the gap between you. Her lips met yours in a passionate kiss. Tugging at her lower lip with your teeth, you slipped your tongue into her mouth. Wanda hummed, fighting your lips for dominance. She gained the upper hand easily when her hands dropped down to your ass. Pulling away from the kiss, Wanda pushed you towards the bed.
The back of your knees hit the mattress, leading to you falling on top of it. Wanda hovered over your form, but all you could focus on were her glowing hands.
“Did you know that my powers are quite useful outside of fighting?” Wanda’s hands traveled beneath your dress, toying with the hem of your panties. She’d gotten a glimpse of the lacey black garment when she had watched you get all dolled up for her. That may have ruined the surprise you had in store for her, but she had yet to see them on you in person.
“Really? How so?” you asked, shivering underneath Wanda’s touch as she dragged her fingers up your inner thigh. You’d forgotten about how she had used them the last time you met up. To be fair, it was Wanda’s fault to leave you with little recollection of what happened that fateful night she ran into you at the bar. Wanda firmly squeezed your thigh and moved her hand farther up your leg, her pinky brushing against your clothed cunt.
“They allow me to hold down pretty little things, so they won’t squirm nearly as much when I put my hands on them.” The Sokovian could feel the heat radiating off of your body. If she had taken one quick peek into your mind she would’ve known exactly why, but she didn’t have to because your thoughts were practically screaming at her. She cupped your heat over your panties, gently rubbing down. “Do you want me to try it out on you?”
“Yes please, Mommy.” you nodded, reaching for her wrist to keep her hand in place. Red mist wrapped around you and pinned you down to the mattress.
“Sluts don’t get to be greedy, and definitely not messy ones.” Wanda pushed your panties aside and dragged her fingers up and down your folds. “Mommy should punish you for being a messy girl, you need to learn to be better.”
“You’re right, Mommy. I shouldn’t be messy or greedy, but please touch me, I need you.” you pushed your hips towards Wanda, grinding on her hand until she pulled it away and smacked your legs apart further.
“I’m sure you do, sweetheart. You’re going to be wishing that you hadn’t asked me to touch you because I’m not going to go easy on you after you’ve been so bad.” Your hips jerked when she delivered a firm smack to your cunt. “Gonna give this pussy Mommy’s special touch to make it all puffy and red.”
“What do you m-”
“Hush, sweetheart. Don’t make this any harder for yourself than it is. Let Mommy do what she does best.” She ripped your panties off, slipping one of her fingers inside of you. “You’re so tight, baby. I’m gonna have a blast stretching you out.”
Her powers held your hips in place as she slowly pumped her finger into your cunt. Soft whimpers slipped out of your mouth as you waited for her to cave. Wanda showed little interest in giving you what you wanted yet.
“You’re already so wet for me and I’ve barely touched you, baby.” Wanda removed her finger from your core and brought it up to your lips. “Taste yourself for Mommy, princess.” Your tongue traced her digit, before your lips wrapped around it. You moaned, licking your slick off of her finger. “I know you want to be on your best behavior for Mommy, but I’m not going to be any nicer to you because you’re showing off.”
“I’m not trying to show off, Mommy. Just thought I should be a good girl for you. You said not to be messy, so I cleaned your finger the way you asked.” The small smirk tugging at your lips was wiped off when the Sokovian’s hand struck your pussy.
“My whore’s a bit of a smartass, hm?” Wanda shoved two fingers into your cunt, roughly thrusting them. “I don’t appreciate that, but I bet I can fuck that out of your system.”
Her fingers curled inside of you while her thumb leisurely stroked your clit. Wanda’s eyes lit up when she saw the present she had left you sitting on your dresser. You whined as she withdrew her fingers from your heat, earning you another smack.
“You’re already on thin ice so I suggest that you try a little harder to be good for Mommy. Unless you no longer want to be able to feel your pussy.”
“No, Mommy, I’ll be good. I promise.” Wanda rubbed your clit briefly and brought her hand down on your core again. The pink vibrator that had been on the other side of the room appeared in her hand.
“Told you that my powers were useful for more than fighting, baby.” Wanda switched it on and dragged it up your thighs, avoiding your entrance each time. “Am I doing something wrong?”
You tried to reach out for her, quickly realizing that you couldn’t because you were still restrained to the bed. “I want you to touch my pussy, Mommy.”
“Oh, I see.” Her hand dropped between your legs, nudging your sensitive bundle of nerves with the vibrator. “Is that better?”
“Much better, Mommy.” you mewled as she circled your clit with the toy. The faint buzzing sound and Wanda’s occasional praises were all you could hear.
“My sweet girl wants her pussy touched by Mommy all the time.” Wanda pushed the vibe against your swollen clit. “Probably made a mess of her apartment on purpose, knowing that it’d make Mommy want to instill some discipline in her.”
The vibrations became more intense as Wanda turned the toy up a few settings. Your thighs attempted to close around her hand, but she was able to keep them apart. “Mommy, please. I need to cum.”
“It’s a shame you don’t deserve to cum yet.” Wanda sighed, turning off the vibrator. She brought it down to your entrance, dipping the toy inside. She slapped your pussy once it was in all the way. “Keep it nice and snug.”
Wanda got off of the bed and undressed before kneeling beside your head. Your eyes widened in surprise as you felt Wanda’s strap bump against your lips. You hadn’t noticed that she had been packing at any point during your date. Her magic released you, restoring your mobility.
“Get it ready for your sweet pussy, honey. Otherwise, you’re going to have a tough time taking it.” Wanda caressed the side of your face, guiding the cock closer to you.
Turning your head towards her, you wrapped your lips around the tip and steadily took half of the toy into your mouth. Your hand was enclosed around the base of her strap as you bobbed your head along its length.
“You’re sucking my cock like a good little whore, honey.” You whimpered as the vibrator started up inside of your cunt. “Do you like that, kitten?” You pulled away to answer, earning another smack to your sore pussy. “Don’t get distracted, slut, or else I’ll stop everything. You can answer with my cock in your mouth.”
“Sorry, Mommy,” you said quietly. Your hands gripped at the sheets as the vibrator was turned up a setting. The brunette changed the angle it was resting inside of you so it was stimulating your sweet spot.
Wanda took the opportunity to inch the fake cock back inside of your mouth when your lips parted. The strap hit the back of your throat and her hand kept you in place for a few moments before letting you off. “You can handle it, princess. I know you’ll be able to, Mommy knows what’s best for you.”
She held onto the sides of your head, beginning to thrust the toy in and out of your mouth. Tears sprang to your eyes as you gagged on her strap.
“Fuck, baby. You look so pretty when I fuck your face.” Wanda moaned, the base of the strap rubbing against her clit. “Wish I’d packed my special strap instead, then you’d really have something to cry about.” Her fingers massaged your clit while the vibrator shifted between settings. “But don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll get your pussy well acquainted with it later. Right now, just trying to warm you up until I get to fuck you with that one.”
A sob escaped your lips as Wanda’s fingers left your clit and pulled the vibratory out of your cunt. She tossed it to the side and slapped your pussy one last time.
“I think you’ve suffered enough, princess. Mommy’s ready to make you cum now.” Wanda said, pulling the toy out of your mouth. She shifted so she was kneeling between your legs. “Worried it won’t fit?” Wanda asked, teasing your folds. “I’ll find a way to make it fit, honey.”
Leaning down, she buried her head in the crook of your neck. Her mouth marked your skin with deep purple bruises that you sensed would take some time to heal completely.
“Your slutty pussy will take every inch because you wanna make Mommy proud, right?” Wanda guided the cock inside of your cunt.
“I want to make you happy, Mommy.”
“You make me very happy, baby.” Wanda placed a kiss on your jaw and snapped her hips forward, filling you with the strap. “You can cum whenever you want but you need to let me know beforehand. I need to make sure you ask me properly first.”
“I u-understand, Mommy.” You held onto her shoulders, adjusting to the stretch of the toy. “I’ll do my best for you.”
“That’s what I like to hear, kitten.” When you had relaxed in Wanda’s arms, she began to rock her hips back and forth. “You thought you wouldn’t be able to handle my piece, honey. Look at how well your pussy is taking it.” Wanda’s hand struck your cheek and enveloped your throat. “Fucking drooling all over yourself like the whore you are. I thought I told you I don’t appreciate it when you’re messy, darling.”
“I can’t help it, Mommy.” Wanda’s hips slammed against yours as she aggressively pounded the cock inside of you. She squeezed the sides of your throat. “Mommy, I need mo-”
“What?” Wanda let out a low growl, gripping your jaw in her hand. “You want more? Such a needy little whore for Mommy’s cock.” Her free hand traveled to where your bodies met, rubbing at your clit in tight circles.
“Mommy, I’m go-” You needed to cum. All you had to do was tell Wanda, which sounded a lot easier than it actually was. Each time your mouth opened, you were a babbling mess. Her hips slapped against yours with each thrust.
“What’s that, baby? I can't understand you.” She knew you were close, but she needed to hear you. You came harder than you ever had before, coating her thighs in your arousal.
“God, that was so hot.” Wanda pulled the toy out of you and kissed her way down your body. “But you forgot something.” Her lips pressed a soft kiss on your clit, causing your hips to jerk. “Since you wanted to be a whore and without asking Mommy for permission first, I’m going to keep playing with your pussy until you do that again.”
“So how was your date with Miss Witchy?” Stella teased, leaning against the back of the couch as you scrolled through your camera roll. “We haven’t gotten a chance to talk about it since it happened.”
“Don’t call her that,” you warned, defeatedly setting your phone down on the coffee table. That picture of you with your childhood dog would have to wait. “And the date was good. Almost like a dream.”
“Because it was perfect?”
“No…” you trailed off, trying to think back to that night. All you were met with was an empty blank that you couldn’t fill. “Because I can't remember.”
“Couldn’t have been that good if it was forgettable.” Stella mocked, scooting closer to you. You remembered showing up at the restaurant and that by the time you got home, your cheeks ached from smiling so hard. You tended to forget small things here and there, but going on a date with an avenger seemed like something worth retaining. Brushing those thoughts away, you decided to change the subject.
“Enough about me, how have you been? I feel like I’ve only been seeing you at work now.” That was true, you hadn’t even gone out to get coffee together during your breaks the entirety of last week.
“Maybe because you’re too busy texting a certain someone to notice me.” Stella sighed. “But I noticed you weren’t checking your phone that often today, and when you did you seemed pretty upset.”
“Upset?” you scoffed. “I’ve got no good reason to be, everything is going well.” Everything beside how often Wanda was reaching out to you. The first few days after your date it was fine and entertaining for the both of you. However, texting a few times an hour quickly became her bombarding you with texts every minute you were awake. She’d even started to call you, but you never answered.
“No, it’s not. You can’t lie to me and get away with it, I know you better than anyone else.” She reached out and grabbed your hands.
“She’s trying to talk to me all the time. I know she probably has nothing better to do and is trying to keep herself occupied, but it’s getting annoying.”
“Has nothing better to do? She can always take up a hobby instead of choosing to pester you with her shit. You should just tell her that it was nice knowing her and that it’s not going to work out because you’re not willing to give her what she wants. It’s irrational of her to want all of your attention when you have a life without her to worry about.”
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Wanda whispered to herself, tightening her grip on her phone. She closely observed the scene of the girl that was only supposed to be your close friend slowly leaning into you. Your close relationship made it more difficult for Wanda to get her to back off with a verbal warning. Surely, word would get back to you of her behavior if that’s all she chose to do. You jumped away from Stella in surprise when your phone began to ring. It was Wanda. Again.
“Her again?” Stella groaned, taking your phone out of your hand. “I don’t see why you don’t just block her. Sure she’s an avenger and all, but so w-”
“You can’t just take my phone from me,” you interjected, ripping your phone out of the woman’s hands. “That was outta line.”
“You better pick up, y/n or I swear to fucking g-” Wanda crushed her phone in her hand as if it were nothing when it went to voicemail. “You’re going to regret that, sweetheart.”
“Sorry,” Stella mumbled. You looked down at your phone and noticed the call had already disconnected. She took your hands into hers. “Now, where were we?”
You turned your head to the side before she could catch your lips. “Oh, I thought that- I'm sorry if I crossed a line.”
“No.” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “It’s just that you’re my friend and I’m still trying to figure out what I want-” You were well aware of her feelings for you, but you thought that if you never acknowledged them that they’d go away.
“Then, I’ll wait for you.” She squeezed your hands reassuringly, frowning when you yanked them away.
“That’s the thing, I don’t want you to wait for me. You’re great, Stel. But I can't ever give you more than this.”
“It’s fine, let’s just forget this ever happened, okay? We were friends before anything else, and I don’t want this ruining that for us.” Stella paused, releasing a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding in. “I should be on my way now. I’ll see you at work, okay?” She didn’t give you a moment to respond, swiftly grabbing her belongings and walking towards the front door. Her hesitation in grabbing the handle was screaming at you to talk to her, but you didn’t want to. The door creaked open and slammed shut, causing you to flinch.
Not even five minutes had passed until you heard a knock at your door. It was either Stella coming back to pick up something she may have left behind or one of your annoying neighbors. Looking through the peephole you released an annoyed sigh. You were tempted to pretend like you weren’t home when you realized Wanda was the one on the other side. She must’ve heard you moving around, so it was too late for you to go forward with that plan.
Wanda’s eyes snapped up from the group as your door swung open. “Hey, Wanda.” You offered her a tight-lipped smile, leaning against the doorway.
“Hi, I was just passing through and thought I’d come to check in on you. It’s been a bit since I’ve last heard back from you and I wanted to make sure you were doing okay.”
“So that’s why you were contacting me nonstop today?” All of a sudden you weren’t as welcoming, and a lot more suspicious of the brunette standing in front of you. “The last time we talked was only less than a day ago.”
“Right, about that…I’m very sorry if you found that overwhelming. I got worried and wanted to make sure that you were okay, but I now realize you’ve got other things to do that don’t involve you being on your phone all day. It’s just that I’m used to things in my line of work going bad quickly. I’ve already lost so many people, so it just worries me when I don’t hear back from someone.”
You frowned, you hadn’t even taken that into consideration before becoming upset about everything. Wanda wasn’t being obsessive, she was simply looking out for you. You should’ve been grateful someone was willing to after-
“Are you okay, baby?” Wanda asked, putting her hand on your shoulder. You snapped out of your trance, meeting her eyes. “You zoned out for a bit.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry. I should’ve given you some sign that I was okay, but I’ll be sure to keep that in mind the next time we talk. Was there anything else?”
“Well…” Wanda paused, clearing her throat. “Since I’m here, I might as well bring this up now instead of waiting and possibly losing my chance.” You perked up and stood upright, waiting for her to speak. “It might be a little too early to ask, but I was wondering if you wanted to be my girlfriend?”
Wanda searched your expressionless face for some hint of emotion but found none. What really set her off was that she couldn’t hear your thoughts, which had never happened with you before. There was a long, uncomfortable silence before you spoke.
“I’m sorry, Wanda. This is nice and all, but I’m not looking for a serious relationship right now. I don’t think I’m in the right headspace to give you that.” You tried your best to let her down easy, but it didn’t seem like Wanda was getting the hint. Her stance became much more defensive and she looked angry. You saw her fists clenched and then loosen when she noticed that you had seen. “Wanda, you’re a great girl but-”
“But what?!” Wanda snapped. “If I’m so great, why won’t you be with me?”
“You should go home, Wanda,” you mumbled, trying to shut the door, which resulted in her forcing her way into your apartment. She slammed the door shut, locking it behind her without lifting a finger.
“You have nowhere to go, princess.” Her hands violently grabbed your wrists as she trapped you between her and the counter. “Even if you managed to find a way out, do you seriously think you’ll get far when I’m the one on your ass?” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and forced you to look her in the eye. “I’m going to ask you one more time, detka. Will you be my girlfriend?”
Your vision became blurry as you tried to shove Wanda away. It didn’t matter how hard of a fight you’d put up, you were up against the strongest avenger. There was no way you were getting out of this one.
“I can’t wait all day for a response, sweetheart. I’d like to be able to spend some quality time with you.” Her hands squeezed your hips. You attempted to give her a price of your mind, but your mind went blank as your thoughts were overcome with what she wanted you to think about.
“I- I’d love to.” The fearful expression on your face was replaced by a warm smile. The brunette lovingly stroked your cheeks with her thumbs.
“I knew you’d come around, honey.” Wanda grinned, pressing a brief peck to your lips. “Good girl, how about you go pick out a movie to watch while I make some popcorn?”
“Are we actually going to be watching the movie?”
“Maybe, maybe not.” Wanda backed away, providing you room to slip out. “But I guess you’ll have to wait to find out.”
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Word Count: 13.2k
Requested? Nope, but you always can here :)
A/N: hiya friends, long time no see. don’t really have much to say this time around except i hope you enjoy professor!h and give him some lovin’ :D. as always, please don’t forget to reblog and send some feedback my way because it’s sososo appreciated :’) good luck and have fun, in that order *nose boops*
Love is a strange thing.
There is no pure form of love; there is no definitive answer to what it is; there is no right way to love someone. It’s mystical and magical, and so much more. It comes and it goes whenever it pleases, hitting some harder than others.
Though, with its highs, do come its lows. Sometimes love leads to disaster, and sometimes it leads to heartbreak. Sometimes love wreaks havoc and causes more pain than anything else. And yet people still search for it high and low. They seek it out, wishing for a simple taste that rests on their tongue for the rest of their days.
And for the lucky few, it comes when least expected.
The spring semester had come to a close, finals were taken care of, and notes were shoved in closets, ready to collect dust for the summer. Heat began to swell in the air, freedom began to nestle in the bones of all young adults, and alcohol consumption began to spike.
Rudy Q’s was a small bar tucked away between buildings in Soho, London, but it was a personal favorite for everyone that knew of its existence. The same crowds tagged along for the karaoke nights, bustling Saturdays, or even tranquil Tuesdays. There were no unfamiliar faces that stepped inside, and there was never a dull night, which is why it’s a comfort zone for Y/N and her friends.
“Who am I dressing up for? Jimmy? The man that already looks at my tits whenever he can?” Y/N scoffed, tossing the revealing shirt back down on her bed as she walked back over to her closet to search for a different option. It was officially the first day of summer break, meaning the whole friend group wanted to celebrate and go out on the town for the night. The plan is the usual; Rudy Q’s. Meaning, there is absolutely no reason to pull out her most revealing clothes or most temptatious because no one there piques her interest.
Lorelai, Y/N’s roommate, only female friend, and inevitable best friend rolled her eyes at the missed opportunity for a scandalous rendezvous as she watched her friend pick out the same boring clothes. “No one said you can’t dress up for yourself. Girl empowerment and all that.”
Y/N bit her lip in contemplation, going back and forth between the tee in her hand and the backless, low-cut, satin camisole laying idly on her bed. The baby pink fabric glimmered underneath the lights of her room, beckoning her closer and whispering thoughts of encouragement in her ear as she held it within her grasp again. Lorelai bit her lip in anticipation, a cocky grin spreading across her features as she watched the gears turning in Y/N’s head. A squeal crawled up her throat and flew past her teeth as she could hear the faint whimpers of Jesus, watching her best friend decide on the better of the tops.
Initially, she was nervous, feeling rather exposed in the dainty fabric, but after a few compliments from her male friends and the shots of liquid courage seeping into her veins, confidence began to seep from Y/N’s pores. She walked into Rudy Q’s with her head held high and boisterous energy flowing around her.
What she didn’t expect though, was to catch the attention of an unfamiliar set of gaudy green eyes. From the moment she walked in, to when she sat down in the middle of all of her friends, to when they began to scream the lyrics of whatever song was playing, to when she got up and walked over to the bar to grab another round. His eyes roamed over her stature once, twice, three times as she stood near, absorbing her radiance like a dry plant desperately needs water.
Carson, the boy to her right, practically forced her back into her seat when she returned, whispering right in her ear so she could hear him over the chatter of their group and the speaker over their heads. “Two o’clock, someone’s got their eye on you,” he flicked his head in the direction of the bar. Y/N’s head moved to turn in the same direction but Carson refrained her from doing so, an incredulous look printed on his face. “Don’t look now, dumbass! Nonchalantly.”
Y/N jabbed his side for the curse directed at her, but followed his orders and casually glanced back to where she once was. Her eyes scanned the length of the bar top, skimming over the men she already knew, and Jimmy, before landing on a new face she had never seen before. Much to her misfortune though, he was already looking in her direction, so their eyes linked in contact from across the room. He raised his glass in a toast to her, diverting his attention back to his friend that had been rambling on for minutes now.
Her mouth felt dry and her skin felt hot. Although, she just drank water, and her back’s exposed to the front entrance that let in a draft whenever someone walked in or out. None of it made sense; especially the part about the guy being interested in her. Though, she knew it was only a hormonal infatuation, so she tried to push it to the back of her mind because what he most likely wanted was something she didn’t want to give to him.
Or that’s what would normally happen. Somehow, this time around, she ended up beneath him, in his bed, her cheek pressed against the silky smooth texture of his white sheets as he gripped her hips and rocked his own into her. She should’ve figured that the moment she chose the baby pink shirt instead of her normal, more conservative attire, all of her morals would be thrown out of the nearest window, crashing to the ground below and breaking into a million little pieces that would be impossible to put back together.
“Such a good girl,” echoed through her head for days. Her thighs clenched whenever she thought about him. Flashes of red hot passion were imprinted behind her eyelids, mixed with sweet tendril words wrapped around her senses, consuming her entirely as she itched for another fix.
Day and night he was on her mind, and she didn’t even know his name.
She didn’t have the guts to ask for his number, and in fact, she slipped out from under his arms in the middle of the night because the thought of seeing him in the morning made her nauseous and uneasy. Though when he lazily opened one eye and beckoned her back in bed, her legs weakened and felt like puddy all over again. She stood her ground, however, telling him she had an early day the next day - which was a lie because she finished classes. She couldn’t exactly tell him that though.
“Love your pretty lips wrapped around me.”
“Go on, spread your legs.”
“Shit, m’not gonna last if y’squeeze me like tha’.”
It was all she could think about. For two weeks.
Until they met again.
On her day off from work, she decided to go downtown to visit her favorite bookstore, Bailey’s Books, owned by the sweetest old lady, Ms. Bailey. It’s where she felt most at peace, especially when school was in session, because it provided her a safe, and quiet space to get her studies done properly. She could opt for going to a library, but she enjoys visiting Ms. Bailey - who also happens to bake the best cookies and always gives her her own stash.
Y/N had her nose tucked into a new book, completely enraptured by the story printed on the worn pages, as she nibbled on her third cookie. Others passed her by, mindlessly browsing through the vast shelves that surrounded her, looking for their own piece of adventure to dive into. The gentle pitter-patter of rain beat against the window she sat next to, providing a calm, melodic pattern that flew through her eardrums and processed into her brain, easing her once tense muscles into nothing but gooey cookie dough.
She was so deep into her own mind, she didn’t notice the soul that had stopped next to her, continuously clearing their throat to gain her attention. When that didn’t work they decided to wave their large, ring-clad hand in front of her face, blocking any more words from transferring into her retinas. Y/N’s head snapped up, her jaw dropping at the sight of who was before her.
“Good girl, I know you hear me.”
“Sorry, I- I didn’t notice you,” she murmured, sitting up from her slouched position on the bench, placing her bookmark between her last read pages, shutting the book softly.
His green eyes pierced her own, their jade color brighter than the last she remembered. “That hurts,” he pouts, his hand coming up to his chest in faux pain. Fleeting moments of silence were exchanged, because Y/N certainly didn’t have anything to say, and she’s afraid anything she might say could completely embarrass her. The only sentences she had in her brain lately were the ones he said in her ear those couple of weeks ago.
He pointed to the space beside her feet, wordlessly asking to sit down, which caused her to bring her knees to her chest to allow him room on the small leather cushion. His presence made her insanely nervous and brought her back to when they were in the car on the way to his apartment. He was confident, daunting, and scarily charming - everything she wasn’t. Her stomach twisted in knots and fluttered with dozens of butterflies as his hand was on her knee, his mouth on her neck, warm breaths fanning over her delicate skin.
How she felt then is exactly how she feels being next to him again. Except this time she wasn’t insanely drunk. She was extremely sober and in her favorite bookstore owned by the sweetest, most angelic woman. Her walls were up and strong, hardly allowing her a glimpse of his sweet smile that hid his dirtiest sins.
“Are you busy tonight?” he wondered, his hand falling into place on her knee. Y/N tugged her bottom lip into her mouth, mulling over her plans for the night. From what she remembers, there wasn’t a damn thing awaiting her in the future, but she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of an immediate answer. She knew what he wanted, and she refused to give it to him again. She knew what he wanted, which was obvious by the way his tongue darted out to wet his own lips as his eyes zoned in on hers, watching the way her teeth tugged on the glossy, plump skin.
Y/N shrugged, uttering a response of, “I’m not sure,” to quell his intense gaze. He could tell it was the nerves settling into her bones again, just like that night they shared all those weeks ago, that caused her apprehension, so he decided not to push her, instead putting the ball in her court.
“Right, well, when you figure it out, here’s m’number,” he smiled, reaching for the pen that was hooked to the outside of her purse, taking her hand in his own, and gently writing down the digits that would allow her to contact him. He kissed her knuckle after he had finished, putting the pen back where he had found it.
Just before he was out of sight for good, Y/N called out to him, glancing between the swirls of blue ink on her palm and his figure in the distance. “Do I at least get to know your name?”
He didn’t bother to turn around, but stopped in place, his head slightly turning over his shoulder, signaling that he heard her. She could see a small smirk on his lips before he walked away, not another word said. Y/N huffed, slouching against the wall again, keeping her eyes trained on the number written on her skin.
After she left Bailey’s around five, she couldn’t help but stare at the number now written in her notes on her phone, nowhere near coming up with a decision on what she should do. She immediately went to Lorelai for help, but she could’ve guessed what her friend’s response was going to be.
“It’s summer, have fun, Y/N. Leave the worrying for school.”
In bed, her thumb hovered over the twelve digits, again and again, nearly clicking it a few times until her brain came to its senses and halted her movements. She was being difficult on herself which frustrated her beyond no end because she was her own worst enemy. He seems like a nice guy and he certainly knows how to make her feel good, so what is the real reason she won’t let loose?
She doesn’t know. But then she thought back to when she had to decide on which top to wear, and how her brain battled back and forth between darkness and light. Prison and freedom. Death and rebirth.
And then the phone was dialing.
And Jesus wept.
His name’s Harry. He granted her the privilege of knowing his name after understanding it must’ve been a big step for her to call him. He doesn’t know the girl, yet he feels like he does at the same time. From her behavior at the bar to the drastic change in the bookstore, he feels like he knows the exact person she is. He doesn’t choose to know her though. And she doesn’t care to know him.
Sex is their only relationship, and it’s all either of them want until September strolls around. They’re a summer fling, a mere pair of fuck buddies, not even at the stage of being friends to call themselves friends with benefits. All Y/N knows is his name, and vice versa. And that’s all that mattered.
When the fall semester crept up closer and closer, Y/N began calling him less and less, ignoring his texts more and more. What used to be a three times a week engagement, trickled down to once a week, then maybe once every other week. She needed to get her head back in the semester mindset, and Harry didn’t fit into her day-to-day life.
They shared one final night, which was the last day before classes began. He came over to hers, not wasting any time as they slammed her bedroom door shut, clothing was haphazardly strewn all over the place as their lips locked in a heated union, his hands cupping her ass as he held her against the cream painted wall.
“Are y’gonna scream for me?”
Bright and early is when her alarm clock disturbed her peaceful slumber the next morning, its cruel ring blaring incessantly throughout her room. Y/N woke with a jump, her hand clutching her beating chest as she realized where she was and what had just happened. She blinked a few times to adjust her eyes to the blue light emanating from her phone, begrudgingly tossing her legs over the side of her bed. Letting out a string of yawns, Y/N noticed the empty space that felt cold next to her, realizing Harry must’ve left without waking her at some point in the night.
With slow steps and continuous eye rubs, she made her way to the kitchen, searching high and low for a clean mug to drink her coffee. A mental note was made to do some dishes - or rather, writing a note for her roommate to do the dishes considering it was her turn.
Peeking out of the curtains from the window behind her, Y/N could see the sun waking slowly just like her, its vibrant colors in battle with the night sky, trying to make itself known as the early morning minutes continued to tick by. The drowsy morning air was parallel to Y/N’s own mental state as she prepared herself for the day ahead of her.
Just like clockwork, it was time for another first day of school. It seemed that no matter how old she would get, or how much progress she would make, there was always more school that needed to be done. She likes school; she doesn’t mind it as most do, but just like anyone else, the morning classes are always the worst. Her brain doesn’t properly function before ten in the morning.
Her coffee acted as her liquid courage for the day, running through her veins like murky adrenaline as time clicked onward and her first class approached nearer. The early September air was brisk, the wind carrying through Y/N’s coat and covering her body in a small chill despite the layers she was wearing.
She looked over her schedule one final time as she made her way into her first building, reading the signs on the wall that directed her to the proper classroom for her first class of the day. An eight o’clock lecture on cognitive psychology. The circumstances were a little different however because she was going to be a teaching assistant in this class.
Room 204. Head on at the end of the hall she was currently in. She could see a few students already inside, early just like her. Professor Dulock, the one teaching this class, had suggested Y/N help her for the semester. She was coming up on her last couple of months of pregnancy, so she would need all the help she could get, and Y/N was the perfect one for the job. She has a strong work ethic, and she knows how overwhelming psychology courses can become, so when the opportunity presented itself that she could help others, she decided to take it.
Though she does regret signing up for the early morning class.
Letting out a sigh, she untucked her phone from her back pocket, deciding to use it as a distraction for the remainder of time until class started. Her mind drifted to Harry from time to time, causing her a bit of distress as she thought of what she couldn’t have anymore. The soreness between her legs was a healthy reminder of their night together, and Y/N couldn’t deny that she would miss the throb and ache he left her with.
Looking at their thread of messages, her heart panged unusually, as she reminisced on what was probably the best summer of her life. She had the thought that she was being dramatic, but figured that what she felt was normal. The end of any sort of relationship was never pleasant, and something in the back of her mind told her not to let him go just yet. That’s why she uncharacteristically sent him a text; one that had nothing to do with sex or anything of the sort.
The moment she hit send on her ‘good morning’ message, her foot entered the threshold of the classroom. She noted that the professor hadn’t arrived yet, deciding to set her things down on one of the front tables next to the podium. She shoved her phone in her bag, not wanting to dwell on his awaited response; if he responded at all. Small talk or normal conversations were something they never partook in, so she wouldn’t be surprised if he found it weird and ignored it all together.
Ten minutes of silence built into minimal chatter as more and more students kept pouring in, slowly filling up the empty seats until not a single one was left. Ten minutes of waiting for Professor Dulock to show up - which was uncharacteristic of her. Ten minutes of eating herself alive, believing she made the wrong choice in sending Harry that message and deeply regretting her existence. Ten minutes of wishing her overt desperation to keep alive a relationship that was inevitably done didn’t seem so pathetic.
Right when eight o’clock struck, Y/N could hear one last individual enter the room, the sound of the door shutting behind them. She had just finished setting up the overhead projector and made sure the microphone was properly working when the professor decided to greet everyone in the room.
“Good morning class.”
“Are y’gonna scream for me?”
Y/N’s head slowly craned to her left, her eyes following the trail of the white tile that led to the professor’s shiny brown loafers. His blue trousers clung to his legs, accentuating the legs she would admire when she was tucked into her comforter, watching him get dressed. A white button-down shirt hugged his taut muscles, tightly encasing his muscles that she liked to claw and dig her nails into. His tan skin peeked through the open placket on his chest, his usual golden cross glinting in the lights on the ceiling.
A gasp ripped through her throat by the time her eyes met his, gaining the attention of most of the class that had been silent. Including him. Though his reaction upon seeing her was a little more contained, his eyes widening in the slightest as a red tint flushed his cheeks. Y/N tried her best to cover it up with a cough, wishing the floor beneath her would swallow her whole, burying her somewhere that was far enough from heated gazes and whispering words.
Harry cleared his throat, turning his attention back to the rest of the student body, smiling softly as he steered them all back to him, taking the attention off of her. “I’m Professor Styles. I know you all signed up for Professor Dulock but she had a medical emergency regarding her pregnancy, so I’ll be taking over,” his eyes glanced in his peripheral, gauging Y/N’s reaction for a slight moment before continuing on.
Her mind was running a hundred miles a minute as her skull felt like it was shrinking in on her brain, causing her to panic in the slightest as she tried her best to ignore the situation at hand. She clasped her hands behind her back, feeling the sweat build on her palms. She continuously squeezed the flesh, cursing over and over in her mind as she habituated the sound of his voice, pushing it and this what’s-going-to-be tortuous class out of her mind. The idea of dropping it immediately crosses her mind, but then comes the struggle of not being able to join another professor and the lack of money coming in that she needs to save up for her own apartment one day.
Y/N led a meticulous life, for as long as she could remember. Things were in order, things were planned, and nothing radical ever happened. Her parents had warned her that without order, things could become messy and mistakes aren’t forgivable in the grand scheme. When Y/N dipped her toes into college life, she tried to break out of the mold her parents forced her into, but time and time again she kept coming back to the conclusion that maybe they’re right.
They must be right because those who keep themselves in check don’t end up sleeping with the professor they’re assisting.
At the sound of her name, Y/N’s attention finally snaps back to reality, head picking up from looking at her shoes. “And this is Y/N. She’s going to be my TA for the semester. I’m sure by some point, you’ll wish she was the professor and not me.”
That let out a few giggles and chuckles, including Y/N. It seemed as though Harry’s ears were tuned to only hear the sound of Y/N’s though by the way he glanced at her nearly immediately, smiling at the notion that he was able to draw out a good emotion from her otherwise sodden attitude.
It’s going to be a long semester.
The way the hour and a half class dragged on was certainly telling of that. When it finally came to an end, Y/N could practically feel a weight lifted off of her shoulders at the idea of dashing out of Harry’s presence for the day, needing time to wrap her head around the situation she was currently stuck in. She knows logically that she should probably talk to him, but she thinks maybe if she ignores it, it can’t be seen as real.
Sort of like if prey were to stop moving in front of a t-rex, then it wouldn’t be spotted.
Tucking her laptop into her bag, Y/N stood up from the desk she claimed as hers, sweat perspiring at the back of her neck as the last few kids exited the class, leaving her and Harry to their lonesome. Her back was to him and if it weren’t weird and brought even more attention to her, she would side-step herself out of the room in order to not even see him in her peripheral vision. Though, she could feel his eyes burning a hole through her skull the moment they were alone, and immediately she knew there was no escaping him or avoiding the conversation that was bound to begin to happen.
Looking over her shoulder shyly, she could see him leaning against the whiteboard, hands in his pockets as his one leg crossed over the other, idly standing as he waited for her to turn around and give him the attention she refused during class. Sucking her bottom lip between her teeth, she turned herself around completely, anxiously playing with the tips of her fingers.
“Hi,” he started, immediately dropping the authoritative status he held just five minutes ago, quickly morphing into the guy Y/N grew to know - or not really know but also know - over the course of the summer. His lips were raised from one corner of his mouth, but not exactly to form a smirk or give off a cocky attitude. In fact, it almost seemed sheepish.
Y/N smiled at him softly, which contradicted how she really felt inside but figured it would be best to put on a facade in order to make this any more bearable. “Hi.”
“How are you doing?” He wondered, keeping his post against the wall. The question held a bit more gravity than a simple filler question one asks to ease the tension. He wanted to know how she was from the reveal that they would be working together; if she chooses to stay with him that is. Though, he has a hunch she will. But it’s only a hunch, considering right now she looks like she’s seen a ghost.
Letting out a small laugh and looking down at her shoes to avoid eye contact with him, she responded, “Little stunned if I’m honest.” Then she brought her eyes to look at him, wanting to see his face when she continued with, “Thought I would never see you again.”
“Never again? That hurts,” he feigns hurt, taking his right hand out of his pocket to clutch at his chest, much like he did that same day in Bailey’s. An indescribable force pulled at her heart from the déjà vu, nearly making Y/N collapse to the ground. What a change from the first time he did that to now. Sticking his hand back in his pocket to maintain his composed stance, he also commented, “If it’s any consolation, I didn’t know I’d see you again either. Especially here of all places.”
Harry wished he would see her again, but seeing the way she declined his calls and was very sparse with her texts back, he knew she was done with him. It seemed unwarranted at first because the relationship they had was pretty strong from what he could tell. But after seeing her in his classroom after the night they just shared, he completely understands her one-eighty.
Though, he was still a little stumped on her ‘good morning’ message from earlier.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were a professor here?” She questioned, but more so spat out, almost in an accusatory manner.
That caught Harry off-guard, that was for sure. He was astonished at her tone and the question itself, because there was no reason he had to disclose that information, and she knew that. Because it didn’t seem like it mattered. It’s obvious now that it did, but when she was going down on him and being his good girl, it really didn’t. “The same reason you didn’t tell me you were a student here.”
His eyes burned into hers with that same fire she held in her own, taunting her to try and say anything else that blamed him; as if there weren’t two participants in their endeavors. His eyes burned deep into hers, causing her to retract the talons she was sporting and cower away into the girl she used to be. Y/N isn’t one for confrontation, so she’s not sure who she was kidding, trying to seem tough. Turning away from him, she picked up her bag from the desk behind her, murmuring, “I can’t afford to lose this job, so obviously, from now on this summer never happened.” Obviously. At least to her. “I’ll see you Wednesday.”
With that, Y/N all but ran out of the room, keeping Harry in her past, in her dust, as she moved on. The one-eighty from how she felt before class started rests heavily on her heart, and she desperately wishes she could go back and knock some sense into herself. There’s a reason she doesn’t indulge in relationships, and it’s because they always end up hurting her somehow, and then she always thinks back to her family.
“College isn’t for romance, Y/N. I’m not paying for you to be a slut.”
“It’s better that he ended things. Now, you can focus on your studies.”
“What did you expect? For him to actually like you?”
She hates thinking they’re right.
Harry watched as she shuffled out of the room as quickly as she could, not giving him any last looks before she vanished from his sights. He let out a sigh, looking down at his shoes and shaking his head slightly, not only from the cold attitude coming from the girl but also because of the problem they had caused.
Y/N mentioned how she can’t lose this teaching assistant job if word were to get out of their sexual endeavors, but it’s clear she didn’t even think about what was at stake for him. He could lose his actual job and even though what they did wasn’t illegal, it certainly wasn’t morally correct which could jeopardize his reputation as a therapist. There was a lot more at risk and he cannot fathom how he ended up here.
But even so, he especially couldn’t understand why this drew him to her more.
After his two other classes of the day, he was speedy on his journey home. His quick trek was in unison with his racing thoughts, which never seemed to slow down ever since his eyes landed on Y/N in his classroom nine hours before. Whenever he walked across campus to get to his next destination or walked the halls of the two buildings he worked in he silently prayed he’d see her again because a little voice in his head was telling him he had to.
He had to.
As soon as he walked through his front door, he was greeted by the smell of something cooking over in the kitchen. With curiosity rushing through him, he kicked off his shoes by the door and walked across the oak wood and down the hall to where he assumed his roommate to be.
“Since when do you cook, mate?” He wondered, slightly taken aback at the sight of his best friend of nearly ten years, Mitch, cooking. Never once did he see him behind a stove in all of the years that he’s known him.
Jumping a little from the shock of someone else being in the room with him, Mitch looked over his shoulder, a small smile on his face that looked laced with nerves. “It’s Sarah and I’s anniversary, thought I’d do something different for once.”
“Do you even know how to cook?” Harry laughed, walking over to the fridge and pulling out a bottle of water. “‘Cause, you seem like you have no clue what you’re doing.”
“I don’t, but I’m following this recipe and it seems so far so good,” Mitch shrugged. Walking over to see what exactly it was that he was making, Harry spotted recently breaded chicken sitting being placed in the oven and noticed the pan of sauce that was currently simmering. Harry was thoroughly impressed and hoped there would be leftovers for tomorrow.
“Speaking of my anniversary,” Mitch turns around to face Harry, “I’m gonna need you out of the apartment for the night.”
Harry’s eyes widened at the demand, stopping his swallowing of the liquid that continued to escape the bottle attached to his lips. After a few unspoken moments though, they both started chuckling at the insinuation of why he needed to leave for the night. A lot of the time, Mitch always ended up at Sarah’s which usually left Harry alone to do whatever he pleased, and though Harry wasn’t at all mad about being told to leave, he was left with one question: Where was he gonna go?
It’s not like he could go to his girlfriend’s house because well - he didn’t have one.
Harry nodded his head with a curt response of, “Sure, mate,” but Mitch noticed the falter in his facial expression. For a brief moment, Harry’s mind was off of Y/N, and now she’s back, moving into his thoughts permanently.
“Are you okay?”
Harry shrugged, trying to seem like his mind wasn’t spiraling at this very moment, “Erm… yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking about where I can go for the night.” That much was true. He realizes his best option is probably a hotel, but he does have the bold thought of calling Y/N and asking her before realizing that would be very dumb.
It seemed Mitch had the same thought process though, because then he said, “How about that girl you’ve been seeing? Y/N, that’s her name right?”
Harry laughed at the proposition of seeing her, while also laughing at the idea of going over to hers. Before the day happened, he would’ve easily called her up and asked to stay over with the inclination of a sexual endeavor. Now it was just a massive joke. “Well, funny you mention her,” it wasn’t, “Turns out she’s my TA for the semester.”
Mitch’s jaw fell slack as a laugh tumbled up from his chest, but he was quick to try and cover it with a cough. As if he didn’t just laugh, his eyebrows scrunched together in concern, as he waited for Harry to say anything else.
“We’re strictly professional now.”
“Seems like that bothers you.” Mitch had been Harry’s friend for a little over ten years at this point. They had been practically inseparable ever since they met back in college, so through the course of those ten years, they’ve each grown quite accustomed to the emotions of the other. Harry’s always been the kind to brush off his own feelings, and not necessarily because he doesn’t care about himself but because he much rather focuses on others than himself.
“What? No,” Harry denies quickly, leaning his back against the wall closest to him. “This is sorta my job and I don’t need to jeopardize it. Plus, can’t go around risking hers either.”
Hearing the beep of the oven, Mitch turned around and inserted his waiting chicken, double-checking he was doing everything correctly before refocusing his attention back on his roommate and best friend. He could obviously tell Harry was lying through his teeth by the way he wouldn’t make direct eye contact or how he seemed to keep picking at his fingernails.
One morning, Mitch had gotten up to go to the bathroom and it was fairly early, around five or six, and he saw the light on in the kitchen. Curious he walked over to see if his roommate was up at an ungodly hour or if maybe one of them had just forgotten to turn off the light. Much to his surprise, he saw Y/N there, sipping on a cup of coffee as she scrolled through her phone. A little stunned to see each other, they both sheepishly smiled in intense awkwardness.
She softly murmured, “I hope you don’t mind that I had a cup before I leave,” to which Mitch quickly shook his head. He never told Harry about the incident because it never seemed important and a little something told him Y/N probably wouldn’t want Harry to know anyway. But, from then on, he knew she was different from any other girl that had been in his roommate’s life.
Before he could respond though, Harry kept on. “I was thinking about asking her on a real date, then this shit happened. I mean, it’s whatever, it was just sex. I can find someone else for that.” Lying. Mitch crossed his arms over his chest, sticking his tongue into his cheek as he listened to what Harry had to say, leaning his hips against the counter behind him.
Sighing, Harry walked out of the kitchen and further out into the apartment, plopping himself down on the living room couch with a grunt, knocking his head back to stare up at the ceiling above him. Curious, Mitch followed suit, sitting down on the chair adjacent to his friend.
Harry continued, “I think there’s something wrong with me for thinking fuck it, and just asking her on that date anyway. Well, I’m not so sure she’d even agree to go on it because she was very adamant on being professional, and rightfully so,” he chuckled, bringing his hands up and rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes, or actually just making himself more tired. “But, this morning I got a text from her and we never texted each other for reasons other than meeting up. That’s gotta mean something, no? Like maybe she would’ve gone on a date if she weren’t my TA?”
“Maybe,” Mitch shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “You should call her anyway, there’s no harm in just talking.”
He held a point. Talking was harmless, or more harmless than their previous endeavors. If they were caught talking, no one would think twice considering she’s his TA. “You’re right. I’ll give her a ring.”
Satisfied with the end of the subject, Mitch smiled, leaning forward to squeeze Harry’s arm in comfort. Then, a robust smell swarmed the living room, causing him to widen his eyes and jump from his chair.
“Shit! My chicken!”
Harry had a hard time containing his laughter.
Laying in bed, ignoring the prying knocks from her best friend, Y/N hasn’t moved ever since she got home.
She tried to sleep her pain away, but when she couldn’t doze off, she laid idle instead, looking out of her window that was cracked open, allowing a soft breeze to flow over her body.
She cried for a little while, letting her pent-up emotions escape her, but now she didn’t know what to feel. Mulling over her situation, she was glad she and Harry were over, but she also felt frustrated over the fact that she and Harry were over.
When she walked through the door of her apartment, Lorelai greeted her with open arms and wonderment over how her day went. Once they connected, she broke down on her roommate’s shoulder, feeling her chest tighten at the broken record of her family running through her mind. Immediately the cheery air turned murky and Lorelai’s wonderment turned sodden.
Instead of opening up like she usually would, Y/N closed herself to the world, making a break for her room and refusing to leave ever since. When she couldn’t sleep, she would open her phone and hover over Harry’s contact, contemplating calling him to come over and forget her thoughts for just a brief moment in time, but then she would remember he is exactly why she’s in this mess right now.
It doesn’t help that the smell of his cologne lingered in the air since last night.
She gathers it must’ve been about three hours since she ran into her room, and although her stomach was rumbling and her bladder was begging for release, she still lacked the motivation to remove her covers from off her body, get out of bed, and out of her dark room.
“Called for a pizza, babe. We don’t have to talk… just want to know you’re alright,” Lorelai knocked again for the second time within the hour. First, she tried to lure her out with tea, then her favorite movie, and now pizza. All usually are keys to Y/N’s heart, but she can’t fathom being happy.
She doesn’t mean to worry Lorelai, and it kills her to not go out there and talk to her, but she also doesn’t want to burden her friend with her meaningless problems. There’s no fixing the troubles her family caused her over the course of her life.
Turning herself over to face her bedroom door, she bit her lip in contemplation, mulling over the pros and cons of pushing herself out of bed. She doesn’t have to talk, all she has to do is prove that she’s not a corpse. She doesn’t need to prove she’s fine and that nothing’s wrong, but rather that she’s okay enough to leave her room. Lorelai bit her lip in anticipation as she could hear the shuffling of her bed and feet on the floor through the bedroom door.
Then the door creaked open and the two were face-to-face. Lorelai smiled in relief, and so did Y/N, and now they can move forward.
“Where did you order from?” Y/N wondered, stepping out into the light like she was stuck in a long tunnel and now is free from the brooding darkness surrounding her.
“Tulio’s.” Their go-to. Y/N’s favorite.
Nodding her head, Y/N excused herself to the bathroom to finally relieve herself. She tried to avoid the mirror for as long as she could, but curiosity got the best of her and she couldn’t help but glance at her reflection.
You’re not going out looking like that, are you?
I mean, really, Y/N? At least fix your hair.
Looking away quickly, she hurried out of the bathroom and out of sight from any mirror, rubbing her eyes to try and get rid of any lingering exhaustion that was evident. Noticing the blankets thrown on the couch and the glasses of wine that rested on the coffee table, Y/N’s heart hiccuped at the insinuation that they were going to watch her favorite movie anyway.
Lorelai patted the spot next to her, beckoning her friend over. Y/N sat down easily, crossing her legs in front of her and pulling the blanket over her lap. Taking the glass from Lorelai, they clinked the rims before taking a respective sip each. “What happened to the tea?”
“Figured y’could use wine instead,” Lorelai shrugged, grinning in return as Y/N giggled.
It was around seven o’clock when Y/N started to feel better. The volatile words from her family slowly crawled back into the hole they leaked out from, and her walls slowly broke back down as she laughed with her best friend and filled her mind with happier memories.
But then Lorelai brought up Harry. Y/N didn’t cower away from the topic like she thought she would, but hearing his name was still like salt in a wound. “By the way, I don’t appreciate y’waking me up last night. I mean, good for you, you sound like you got it good last night, but maybe do that when I’m not home? And sleeping?”
Y/N blushed from the embarrassment of last night’s events, not appreciating the fake moans Lorelai let out to mock her, “Oh my God, right there. Fuck, fuck that feels so good.”
“Okay! That’s enough!” Y/N laughed, reaching behind her and grabbing the pillow that was against her back, and chucking it at Lorelai’s head.
“Did I hear you call him Daddy?”
You wanna come for me, good girl? You know what to call me.
At Y/N’s loud silence, Lorelai let out a belly-laugh, her eyes pinching shut as she used her best friend’s mortified facial expression to fuel her teasing enjoyment. “How rich is that!”
Though it was all fun and games, and Y/N couldn’t help the laughter that tumbled from her mouth, the lingering thoughts of Harry caused her once smile to turn into a frown. Lorelai picked up right away that her frown now matched the one she donned earlier, so whoever this guy is must be the reason for Y/N’s cries.
Turning her protective mode on, Lorelai dropped the fun teasing act and sat up, placing her nearly empty - third - glass of wine down on the table. “Did he do something? Is he the reason for today?”
Picking at the threads on the blanket on her lap, Y/N bit her lip, subtly shaking her head. “Not exactly.” Sighing, Y/N ran her hands over her face, suddenly getting the bubbling urge to blab her heart out until she can’t breathe.
“We’d only been about sex. That was it. But this morning I texted him because - well I don’t know why, but guess what? He’s the fucking professor I’m assisting!”
Lorelai’s jaw fell slack. “I thought you were assisting Professor Dulock?”
“Me too! Imagine my surprise when I find the guy I called Daddy last night walking into the room,” Y/N whined, throwing herself down onto the cushion beneath her, groaning into her hands. Lorelai knew that this wasn’t the only reason Y/N was down in the dumps before though. She didn’t want to pry, but she knew talking about it would make her friend feel better.
Y/N used to be the quiet, reserved type. When they first became friends their first year, it took a lot of warming up to get Y/N to fully accept Lorelai and her friendship and actually open up to her. Lorelai doesn’t know much about Y/N’s family or her past because the girl doesn’t like to divulge into her familial problems, but after she met her mother that one time, she could grasp why Y/N is the way she is; or at least the way she was.
Y/N was wearing lipgloss or maybe it was just chapstick that left a glistening appearance on her lips, but her mother made her wash it off nonetheless.
Lorelai just sat, though, letting her friend continue her ramble through her hands. “When I woke up this morning, I had this thought, maybe Harry and I could, I don’t know, get coffee sometime? Do something other than sex? Clearly I was being too optimistic.”
“You can still get coffee. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“There’s everything wrong with that! What if someone sees us? And then reports us under the suspicion of us having a relationship that isn’t solely professional? I can’t lose this job, I can’t risk graduation in December. My family will disown me,” her throat clogged, her words were stuck in her throat, her eyes burned as more tears threatened to spill.
There it is. Her family.
Lorelai grabbed Y/N’s wrists, tugging her up into a seating position before wrapping her arms around her shoulders and squeezing as hard as she could. She let her love and support process into Y/N’s bones, before pulling back and looking the girl in the eyes. “There’s no harm in going for a coffee, babe. As long as you don’t go calling him Daddy in public, you have nothing to worry about.” Y/N nudged her in the shoulder, laughing softly. “Plus, like you said, you graduate in December. That’s three months. You can make three months if you like him that much.”
And as if someone is listening in on their conversation, Y/N’s phone begins to ring. The two break away from each other for a moment to glance at who’s bothering them before snapping their gazes back to one another, eyes wide and eyebrows half-way up their foreheads.
“What? No way. This is still too fresh.”
“Fine, I’ll answer.”
“No!” Y/N shouts, nearly jumping on her friend who began reaching for the phone. Accidentally, however, in the jolt to grab her phone, her thumb pressed down on the green button allowing her to answer the call. Harry’s deep voice could be heard through the speaker, uttering a ‘Hello? Y/N?’
Giving Lorelai her worst glare that she could muster, Y/N placed her phone to her ear, “Harry?”
“Good girl, hi,” his deep voice reverberated through her ear drum, sending shocks down her spine and causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand up. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t love whenever he called her that.
Lorelai got as close to the phone as possible, trying to listen in on whatever he was saying on the other end.
“Hi,” she murmured. “Is there… something you need?”
“Does there have to be in order for me to call you?”
Nibbling on her bottom lip and quickly glancing at Lorelai for support, she responded, “I-I guess not. It’s not all that professional though, is it?”
She could hear Harry let out a breathy laugh, “I suppose not.” There was a small silence. “D’y’think we can talk?”
Y/N could see Lorelai nodding aggressively, but she ignored her antics as she said, “I… can’t. Not today, maybe some other time.”
“Don’t you think this is something that needs to be talked about?”
“What is there to say?”
Another moment of silence. “Look, can we do this in person? Can’t talk to you over the phone about this.”
About to protest, declaring she wasn’t in the right state of mind to see him, her roommate pinched her arm causing her to yelp. Pulling the phone away from her ear for a second, Y/N was again about to protest before Lorelai beat her. “Talk to him. You’re his TA, Y/N. You’re gonna have to see him eventually. Rip off the band-aid.”
Y/N bit her lip in contemplation, drowning in her thoughts over what could possibly happen if she were to see Harry again not on campus grounds. They had a solid record of doing anything but talking when together, and she can’t have that; especially not tonight. She couldn’t risk going out somewhere in public at this time of night because what if someone were to see them? There’d be no reason to be with a professor this late on a Monday. Lorelai bit her lip in anticipation, watching the gears turn in her roommate’s head before she slowly brought the phone back up to her ear.
“Do you want to come over?”
Initially Lorelai had planned to stay in her room for the remainder of the night as per the request of Y/N, and that held up until the very moment that Harry rang from downstairs, signaling to let him up. Lorelai shoved her feet into some shoes and draped a coat over her shoulders and said she was going to one of their shared friend’s places to give them privacy.
Y/N nearly got on her knees and clutched onto her best friend’s legs to stop her from leaving them alone. She wasn’t afraid of him, but rather herself and what she was capable of. She didn’t want to end up beneath him, but there was a low chance of that happening. She had no restraint when it came to Harry, and that’s what made this entire situation so difficult on her. She didn’t want to remain professional because she knew she wouldn’t be able to. Her only options were to quit or maybe jump off a bridge - whichever were to come first. And she’d rather do neither. So she was lost.
Soon after Lorelai left, Y/N heard the repetitive knock on her front door coming from Harry. Letting out a deep breath, she made her way over to the door, peeking through the peephole to make sure it was actually him. When she spotted him in his usual casual attire of a sweatshirt and gym shorts, she opened the door and greeted him.
“Professor Styles.” She called him that to implement their new found relationship.
“Good girl.” He called her that to implement that he was holding on to what they had.
Stepping aside to let him in, she again took a deep breath when he walked past her before closing the door. “Would you like a slice of pizza?”
“Dunno, is it professional?” He mocked her, tilting his head in curiosity.
Finding his stare intimidating, Y/N looked down to her feet. She felt small under his gaze and this time it didn’t feel good. She wanted to run back into her room and under the covers and call it a night. “I don’t understand why you’re mad at me. You know I’m right.”
“M’sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you. I know you’re right, fuck I know, that’s why I’m mad,” he spoke in a calmer tone, walking over the couch she and Lorelai were sat on, laughing not even an hour ago. “When you texted me this morning, I thought I finally got the clear to ask you on a date. Then I walked in… and there you were.”
Confused, Y/N stepped closer to where he was, wondering what exactly he meant. “Got the clear?” She has a hunch of what that could possibly mean, but she’s not sure she wants to hear the answer. It’ll make everything even more difficult than it already was.
“Yeah. After the first couple of times we met up I’ve been wanting to know y’better but y’made it clear that you weren’t interested.”
This surprised Y/N greatly, because she never caught wind of his feelings at all. She feels terrible now, because maybe he made it really obvious but she was oblivious for her selfish reasons of wanting only a good fuck. This made her question her own feelings, because what does this mean for them now? Knowing Harry wanted to go deeper with her electrifies her in a way she didn’t know was possible. Knowing Harry wanted more, makes her realize that she does too. That’s the only reason why she could have texted this morning; she subconsciously knew what she wanted before ever realizing it.
But it can’t happen. It’s not right. It’s morally incorrect. It’s wrong on so many levels. Yet, she still yearned. “Really?”
“I-I didn’t know.” Sitting down next to him, Y/N fiddled with her hands in her lap. “Look, I do like you, Harry. Honest. But I can’t see this ending well with the situation we’re in.”
“I can. Relationships aren’t always easy - shit, I don’t think they ever are, but we deserve to at least try.” Just because their situation isn’t the best, doesn’t mean what they have means any less. The time they share together can be hard and maybe even a little frustrating at times, but they deserve to go through that to get to the light at the end of the tunnel. To get to their little piece of heaven.
Sighing, Y/N turns her head to look out of the window on her right. “Why do you care so much? You don’t even know me. What makes you so sure I’d be worth all of this hassle in the end?”
“I know you more than you think,” taking her hands in his, he draws her attention back to him. “You love to read, the stacks of books in your room say so; you like being in control of situations that are uncertain to you; you prefer sleeping on the side of the bed furthest from the window; you absolutely adore your roommate and mine. Should I keep going?”
Awestruck, Y/N’s mouth falls open as her eyes dance over his face, taking in his newfound beauty that is rooted well-beneath his physicality. It took everything in her to not pull him close and encase his lips with her own. She kept herself at bay, instead letting a smile inch up her face because he liked her.
Thinking back to Lorelai’s words from before ‘You can make three months if you like him that much,’ Y/N thought maybe three months isn’t that long. The idea still sits uneasy inside of her, about getting involved with someone she shouldn’t and how everything could flip on its head, but Harry was right. She likes being in control of situations she’s uncertain about. So if this were to happen, it has to happen on her terms.
Looking him in the eyes and shuffling her body closer to his, after a few tortuous moments of dreaded silence, Y/N finally spoke. “I graduate in December. Can you wait three months?”
Letting out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in, a shit-eating grin spread across Harry’s face as he brought her knuckles up to his mouth. “Publicly, yes. Behind closed doors, you’re all mine.”
Y/N would be lying if she said that didn’t go straight to her core. She nodded her head, “All yours.”
“Good girl.” Then their lips were tangled in one another, just like she knew they would. Y/N may crave control in situations where uncertainty lies ahead, but never once has Harry allowed her the control in sex. Not that she minded all that much, because she liked being subordinate to him; she liked being taken care of.
As if it were second nature to her, she climbed onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him deeper in their kiss. Harry’s hands slid down to her ass, squeezing the flesh through the leggings she was adorned in. Simultaneously they both let out moans of pleasure as their centers brushed together and ignited the hormones that were already flowing through their bodies.
Harry’s hands slowly worked their way up her body, skimming over the skin of her lower back and then inching higher to unlatch Y/N’s bra. Then practically all in one go, her shirt and bra were off and tossed on the floor somewhere near the couch. The kiss being broken apart, Harry’s lips found a new obsession on her right nipple, sucking and nibbling before focusing on the left. Y/N arched her back, pushing her chest further into him as her head fell back and a soft whimper fell past her lips.
Grinding their centers together, Y/N worked a slow pattern with her hips. She almost let out a little laugh from the sudden change of events for the day. She went from happy to frustrated to sadness, and now she’s horny. All within the span of thirteen hours. And all because of the guy she’s on top of.
Not even bothering to get up to go to her room, Y/N helps Harry out of his own clothes until the two of them are completely bare, aching for one another. His fingers teased her hole, taking her wetness and spreading it through her folds before gently circling her throbbing clit that begged for more attention.
Next thing she knows, she’s beneath him as he slides his hard cock into her, stretching her the way only he knows how to. “Always s’tight for me, baby,” he groans into her as he delivers a sharp thrust, knocking his hips into the backs of her thighs.
Digging her nails into his shoulders, Y/N tried her best to meet his movements from the position she was in. She could feel his tip nearly brush against her cervix, sending her into oblivion a lot quicker than she’s used to. “Harry-”
Slap. “You know better.”
Biting on her bottom lip, Y/N brought one of her hands up to tangle her fingers in his unruly hair dragging his face closer to hers until their lips were merely grazing one another. She maintained eye contact as she whimpered, “Daddy, you feel so good.”
The corner of his mouth tweaked up to form a smirk, his tongue lazily licking his lips and barely touching her own. Angling her head up, Y/N stuck her tongue out to touch his, engaging in a very sloppy open-mouth kiss that neither of them were focused on as he quickened his thrusts.
“When I realized who y’were this morning,” he breathed, kissing a line up and down her neck, across her jaw, and meeting the shell of her ear, “I can’t say I didn’t think about the things I could do to you.”
Kiss. “In my office.”
Suck. “Across my desk.”
Slap. “Leave you with little secrets that only I know about.”
Y/N moaned louder, circling her hips every time his pelvis hit her warmth. In her fit of depression and over-thinking, she can’t deny the fact that she thought of those things too. She never deemed them to be possible, but now her opinion has changed. The thrill of being in his office shoots down her spine and straight to her clit.
Leaning back on his haunches, Harry pulled Y/N back on top of him, nailing her in an upward angle which allowed her to sink down further on his cock hitting new spots neither of them knew possible.
“You’d like that wouldn’t you, my good girl?” Nails scratched down his back and a high-pitched, hardly incomprehensible yeah escaped her throat.
He got real close to her face though to utter this next part, his breath fanning over her lips before he would attach them back to his own. “Not really professional though, right, babe?”
He didn’t let her have the chance to protest as their mouths danced in synchrony, hot tongues sliding into each other’s mouth, swallowing each other’s moans.
This entire time Harry’s avoided her little bundle of nerves like the plague, refusing to acknowledge since he barely grazed it before. But as Y/N could feel her high impending closer and closer, she wished he would give her what she wanted. She knows better than to test him though, because last time she reached to touch herself and relieve the ache between her thighs, he all but tore her arm off her body and refused to let her even so much as move it until they were done.
He knows what he’s doing and that’s more frustrating than anything because he knows exactly how to play her and tease her to have her begging. When she began to become restless and was bouncing herself down on each of his thrusts, tugging harder on the roots of his hair, and itching to kiss him deeper, Harry knew she was close.
Which is exactly why he stopped and pulled out of her, pushing her down to the carpeted floor beneath the couch and onto her knees. “Wanna finish down your throat this time.”
Narrowing her eyes and all but snarling at him, Y/N opened her mouth and greedily sucked him past her teeth, licking the taste of her and him combined. Her eyelashes batted up at him and her eyes were shining with a glisten of water as she gagged around him the further he sunk down her throat. “Tha’s right. Good girl. Choke for me.”
Hollowing her cheeks and paying close attention to his slit with her tongue, Harry was soon shooting rope after rope of cum down her throat. His taut abs were matching the beat of his pulse as he took a breath and brushed the stray tears away from Y/N’s cheeks.
“Do I get to come now, Daddy?” Y/N pouted, crawling back on to Harry’s lap.
Noticing how distraught she looked and how frustrated she must feel, Harry nodded his head, plunging his middle and ring fingers into her heat, pushing against her front wall. Y/N whimpered, beginning to circle her hips again in the same pattern as before, which also resulted in the heel of his hand rubbing against her clit.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she whined, her eyes pinching shut and her jaw falling slack as her orgasm wiped through her, crashing into her like a tidal wave.
After heavy panting and five minutes of little movement, Harry and Y/N finally got up off the couch and maneuvered themselves to her room. They were quick with cleaning themselves up before crashing down on her mattress, nearly knocking out the moment their heads hit the pillows.
Y/N felt like a pile of gooey cookie dough and her mind was riddled with exhaustion, but she couldn’t help but think about their relationship now and what could happen over the course of three months. As she admired his still beauty and the way his eyelashes brushed against his cheeks, and the light glaze of freckles across his nose, she thought of her family and what they’ll think when she eventually tells them about him.
She fears they’ll tarnish his beauty through their harsh words and negative affirmations; and that terrifies her more than anything. Thinking he fell asleep, Y/N softly spoke, “Harry?” to see whether or not her suspicions were correct.
“If… if we work it all out after these three months, I’m not so sure my family is going to like you,” she sighed, looking up at his chin that was right above her head. He tilted his own head down to make eye contact with her, bringing his hand up from her waist to caress her cheek.
“And that bothers you,” he said more factually than as a question.
Y/N shrugged, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth. “Not really. They don’t even like me much, but they’re my family; I’m stuck with them, you’re not. I don’t want them to come between us.”
“They won’t if we don’t let them,” he smiles, leaning down to plant a small kiss on her lips. “Besides, I’m great, what’s not to like?”
“Let me think,” she pondered, tapping her finger on her chin as she looked up at nothing and pursed her lips. This resulted in a harsh slap to her rear end. “Ow! I was kidding!”
Shutting his eyes in content, Harry hummed, “Good girl,” and snuggled his face into the crook of her neck, dozing off into his dreams.
Three months surprisingly flew by quicker than Y/N or Harry could have ever imagined. She imagined it to be this tortuously slow course of time that would drag out and never let her get to the day she desperately wanted to get to. He imagined it to feel like time had stopped and that they would never get their happy ending.
Instead, they just finished up the last few papers submitted during finals week, and all that was left was her graduation. The three months went by quickly, but that didn’t mean it was an easy three months. The side glances they would make at one another from across the room with all of the students around them, or the few moments of alone time when class was over or before it began, or when they spend a few extra seconds in each other’s presence in the morning before having to separate and pretend they weren’t just sleeping next to one another.
Five o’clock on the dot every morning, Harry or Y/N’s alarm would sound, telling them it’s time to go. Every morning they would hike their hoods up and keep their heads down just in case. When Y/N would leave Harry’s it wasn’t that big of a deal, but when Harry left Y/N’s they had to be extra careful; a few other students happen to live in the same building as her and they can’t risk any kind of encounter.
Three months was a long time to go through with it. But they did it. And now, all that’s left, is the light at the end of the tunnel. Their slice of heaven.
Except, it didn’t help that Harry and Y/N were in a bit of a fight.
A bit was putting it lightly. They haven’t spoken in two days. Both were insanely stubborn and didn’t want to give in.
After finishing up the final grades, Harry wanted to celebrate the end of the semester by going out for a few drinks with Y/N and a few friends. Y/N declined the invitation. Harry didn’t understand why.
“It’s the end of the semester, everyone’s practically gone home for the holidays already, Y/N. Just one night.”
She wanted to. Of course she wanted to go out. But her underlying anxiety of still getting caught and being exposed was causing her to put off their first public outing for just a few more days. When they started this whole affair, that was her number one clause: Waiting three months.
What she didn’t understand was his anger, considering he agreed to stay private until she graduated. It was only a few more days until they could have what they wanted, but Harry figured a few days wouldn’t make a difference to their relationship.
They settled on going to Rudy Q’s, but Y/N insisted on a big group of people so that they could blend in with the crowds just in case there were prying eyes. Deep down she knew she was being over-analytical about every little thing, but she was just scared. Harry understood and he allowed her the control to let it run the way she wanted to, but he’s still human and he wants to show off his beautiful girl to the world and let everyone know that she’s off the market.
That was the first half of their fight. The second was her family. It was laughable how her family didn’t even do anything, yet they were causing a divide between the couple.
After her graduation, Harry wanted to take her out to dinner. Y/N declined the invitation.
Her family had already planned a dinner for her, and because they wanted to take her to dinner, that means Harry couldn’t. Harry opted for joining them, but again, Y/N declined. Harry didn’t understand why.
“Don’t you think I should meet them?”
“Yes,” she nodded, “just not yet. I don’t… want them to scare you off. Not when we only just started.”
“I thought this didn’t bother you?” Harry sighed, placing his hands on his hips and looking down at his feet. One stray curl fell over his forehead. “I’ve told you m’not gonna let that happen. I don’t care what they think of me, I just want to be with you.”
“They’re gonna ask questions. How did we meet, what do you do-”
“Then we tell them! We’re adults, Y/N, we’re perfectly capable of handling our own choices and dealing with the consequences,” he snapped, raising his voice a tone higher than she’s ever heard before.
Shaking her head, Y/N began to pace the wooden floor of his bedroom. “They’ll ban me from seeing you. They’ll make me move home and they’ll scold me for making a poor choice with my life and they’ll laugh in my face about how I was never ready to face the world by moving out here for good.”
“I’m a poor choice?”
Stopping in her tracks, Y/N looked up at Harry, noticing the grimace on his face. He looked upset and angry all in one, his eyes burning into hers. “Is that what I am? A poor choice?”
“I can’t believe this,” he scoffed, running a hand through his hair. He couldn’t even look at her anymore.
“Harry, you are not a poor choice, that is not what I meant,” she rushed out, taking a few steps towards him. “Oh my god, you are arguably the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t want my family messing that up. I don’t want them in my head, making me think it was a bad decision to date you.”
“They can’t make you think anything. You’d only have those thoughts if you believed it yourself.”
She left his apartment soon after that. She couldn’t endure the pain from his words, and all she wanted to do was cry because per usual she found a way to mess up. She found a way to break her own heart and she wasn’t sure how to fix it this time.
Harry was never a poor choice. If he were, she certainly wouldn’t have agreed to a secret relationship with the professor she’s assisting. Over the course of the three months, she’s grown to know Harry on such a personal level and he, her. Aside from Lorelai, he’s the only one to know of how badly her family affected her life growing up. How difficult it was to live up to her older siblings’ lives while trying to make a life of her own.
Everything she did was bad or a poor choice. Her grades in school, her study habits, her dating life, her choice of major. Nothing was good enough and just when she finally thinks she has something - or someone good, she manages to disappoint anyway.
Those two days of not talking weighed heavy on her shoulders. She didn’t want to lose Harry just as quickly as she got him, and with Lorelai’s encouraging words she tried to remain positive. But her heart sank further and further whenever she looked at her phone and saw no missed messages or calls. Dread filled her bones.
At one final attempt to get him back, the morning of her graduation she texted him.
There’s an open seat for you at dinner tonight, if you still want to come. Patrizia’s at 7
The night before, Y/N called her mother and asked her to extend the reservation to one more person. She decided Harry was much more important than any opinion her family could have about her or their relationship. It was a start, and she desperately wanted to see him again.
The whole day went by and she didn’t hear a word from him. Her heart sank completely down to her stomach and almost fell out of her ass as she observed the parking lot and didn’t spot his car. The judging looks on her family’s faces began to muster as they constantly questioned where the extra person was.
Her sister sneered and laughed, poking fun at the situation and completely doubting there was ever an extra person in the first place. “Who was it? A boyfriend? Not a total shock he didn’t show up, sis.”
“Elyse,” her mother hissed.
“He’ll be here,” Y/N murmured, tugging her coat tighter around her frame as the snow began to fall a bit harder and the wind began to pick up a bit more.
Y/N has faith, yet she also doesn’t. She wouldn’t blame him if he never wanted to see her again, because she caused problems and her family was a family he wouldn’t want to bother being associated with.
“He’s not coming. Can we go inside?” Declan, her brother, asked, not even bothering to wait for an answer before he started to walk towards the entrance of the restaurant.
And as if Harry had a sixth sense, he finally pulled into the parking lot. Y/N let out a sigh of relief as she watched him step out of his car, a bouquet of flowers in his hand, a sheepish look on his face due to his tardiness. “Sorry m’late,” he spoke, handing the flowers over to Y/N and giving her a quick kiss to the crown of her head.
Turning to face her family, he stuck his hand out in the space between him and her father. Harry grinned, introducing himself. “Hi, I’m Harry.”
Y/N swallowed so harshly, she could’ve sworn they all heard the muscles in her neck contract. Her brother, sister, and sister’s husband were busy in their own conversation, but they stopped talking mid-topic after they heard Harry. The air around them filled with thick tension, so much so that Y/N felt like she was being squeezed by a boa constrictor.
Her parents looked him up and down, stoic looks on their faces. Y/N’s heart felt like it was ready to burst out of her chest at the sudden frozen moment they were all stuck in, desperately waiting for something to come out of their mouths, good or bad.
Her brother looked like he was sizing up Harry despite the fact that he was a couple of inches shorter; and her sister looked at him with a snarl, as if she was comparing him to her own husband, which she usually did with all of Y/N’s boyfriends.
Just when Harry was ready to drop his hand from the awkward space between their bodies, her father slowly raised his, latching them together in a firm shake. “Nice to meet you.”
It almost felt like a scene in a movie where the music is meant to swell and everyone feels filled with relief because the tension and turmoil has finally subsided. The biggest smile spread across Y/N’s face, and even Harry seemed to be filled with joy at the approval from her father. And because her father was content, it seems like so was the rest of the family. Maybe except for Elyse.
“Now, let’s go inside, shall we?” Her mother urged, giving Y/N one last look before turning on her heels and walking inside of the restaurant. Y/N could’ve sworn she saw a hint of a smile on her mother’s lips. The rest of the family followed suit, pushing this interaction behind them as quickly as they could.
Y/N and Harry stayed behind for a few moments, basking in the happiness they both felt. She could tell that her family probably weren’t the biggest fans of Harry regardless of the introduction, but that didn’t matter to her. The handshake was all Y/N needed to show that Harry had real potential in her family’s eyes. Her father hardly looked let alone shook hands with anyone she previously dated.
Wrapping his one arm around Y/N’s shoulders, Harry tugged her close and kissed her forehead, then her nose, then both of her cheeks, before finally landing on her lips. “Told ya, what’s not to like?”
Love is a strange thing.
It comes and goes whenever it pleases, affecting some harder than others.
Y/N never thought she would get to experience it in its truest form, but as she stares at Harry, snow falling around them and landing in his curls, his nose beginning to redden from the frost, and his vibrant green eyes illuminating the light above their heads, she knew she was falling for him.
She hopes he’ll catch her. And something tells her he will.
No matter what.
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dancing with our hands tied - peter maximoff
here it is you guys... the ✨very spicy✨ sequel to delicate which can be read here <3 (had to keep the rep song title theme going here)
please for the love of god let me know how this is I’ve never written smut before so please go crazy with the asks/comments/reblogs on this one I’d really appreciate it😩😓
word count: 4k 😳 (it’s not all smut dont get too excited)
warnings: +18 content, sexy times, unprotected wrap it before you tap it, swearing, i tried to keep vulgarity on a low level but i decided to just commit towards the end lmao, insinuation to sex from the beginning , some fluff and a tiny bit of angst sprinkled in there too, wandavision spoilers
You can definitely read this as a stand alone but it’ll make more sense if you read delicate first !! enjoy <3
The days you spent in WestView had been tiring. Wanda seemed to be losing her composure with each day that passed, you watched how she became more and more skeptical of Peter and found yourself growing all the more anxious with the situation you’d run head first into. But, you were with Peter, your mind and his mind were free of Wanda’s influence and she’d been kind enough to appoint the pair of you your own house in the neighbourhood, a few doors down from her own, so, you couldn’t complain too much.
Today was a relatively quiet day, but you had a feeling that just meant you were in the calm before the storm. Tonight was, apparently, Halloween. Despite the fact that it was nowhere near October, you were more than happy to play along with Wanda’s over the top festivities.
Peter and Tommy had just zoomed into your and Peter’s bedroom, sporting matching outfits and excited expressions as they looked at you expectantly, “Well? What’d ya think?” Peter asked, motioning between himself and Tommy. The littlest speedster awaited your answer with wide, hopeful eyes, wanting validation from his cool uncle’s even cooler ‘friend’.
Yeah, you’d made out on Wanda’s couch but you still hadn’t addressed the question of where exactly your relationship stood. It felt as though the pair of you were both actively avoiding the awkward conversation, opting instead to simply fall into bed together every single night and completely disregard the boundaries of friendship in favour of hearing each other moaning until the early hours of the morning.
With a smile you let out a low whistle, “Looking good boys. I gotta say, Tommy, I think you’re outshining your uncle right now.”
You had to laugh when Tommy smirked triumphantly at Peter, “I told you she liked me more than you.” He boasted proudly and your laughs grew louder when Peter huffed angrily. He crossed his arms over his chest and jutted his bottom lip out childishly.
“Y/n, tell him you like me more.” Peter demanded, again, childishly.
You only grinned, “No comment.” You told him airily, making your way to your closet and hesitantly pulling out the latex costume Wanda created for you off of the rail, holding it by the hanger skeptically.
It was Peter’s turn to let out a whistle when his eyes scanned the skimpy looking leotard suspended by the hanger. The fabric mimicked the design of Peter and Tommy’s outfits although it seemed Wanda had gone out of her way to make yours ever so slightly sexier. The leotard was strapless with a sweetheart neckline and a silver lightning bolt ran through the light blue material. The only saving grace was the silver tights that hung from the hanger as well, at least you’d have some kind coverage. With one last peek into the closet, your eyes landed on a pair of white, knee high gogo boots.
“Christ…” You muttered, eyebrows furrowing at the thought of wearing the ensemble out in public, if it was cold tonight Wanda would be in for an aggressive telling off. With a deep sigh you turned to the two speedsters who were both staring at you, waiting for you to say something. “I guess we’re all gonna be matching tonight.”
“Sweet!” Tommy exclaimed while Peter only smirked. Peter, with a lot of effort, moved his attention from your costume to his nephew.
“Why don’t you go hang out with your brother for a while? I gotta talk to Y/n for a sec.” Tommy welcomed the suggestion, only nodding his head before he had sped out of your house and back to his own.
A gust of wind hit your face as Peter sped himself in front of you, the man didn’t hide his intentions as he gripped your hips and pulled you flush against him. Swaying his body against yours and bringing his lips to the exposed skin of your neck. He trailed his lips up your neck, sucking and nipping, smirking when you let out small noises of approval. When his lips reached the spot behind your ear, he gave a final, harsh suck which had your breath hitching and whining when he pulled away.
To be honest, you’d love to be able to call him your boyfriend and be certain that he thought of you as his girlfriend, but at the moment you were perfectly happy with whatever the fuck the two of you had going on if it meant you could keep feeling him against you like this.
“I cannot wait to see you wearing that.” He all but groaned against your ear, his voice deep and gravelly. The butterflies in your stomach went feral at his words and you had to pull your bottom lip between your teeth to keep from letting out a moan from his tone of voice alone, not to mention the fact that his crotch was pressed up against yours, he was excited to say the least.
Your hands slid up his chest and settled on either side of Peter’s neck, you gently pulled his head out from the crook of your nape and teasingly raised an eyebrow at him, “Maybe later I’ll let you help me get out of it.”
A wicked grin spread across his lips, he squeezed your hips in response, tugging you into him even further for some kind of relief then pressed his lips to yours briefly, murmuring against them, “That’s definitely a plan I can get behind.”
Giving him one last kiss, you pried his hands from your hips and pushed him away, “Alright, get lost I need to get ready.”
“Meet me at Wanda’s?” You nodded at his question, letting out a deep sigh you hadn’t noticed you’d been holding when he finally sped out of the room.
After a second of cooling down, you pulled on the outfit and you’d be the first to admit; Wanda knew what she was doing with this one. You looked incredible, albeit a little stupid in the costume, but still incredible.
When you made your way over to Wanda’s to meet up with the others, you let out a laugh seeing as Wanda was essentially wearing the same outfit as you, only with the added extras of a cape and gloves.
“Hey! Why are you dressed the same as Uncle P and Tommy?” Billy asked you curiously, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he glanced between you and Peter for answers. The speedster in question was smirking proudly, his arm finding a spot wrapped around your shoulder.
“Because she’s totally obsessed with me.” He lied with an over dramatic sigh, causing Tommy to laugh.
You rolled your eyes, elbowing him in the ribs playfully before focusing your attention onto Wanda, “I think it’s safe to say that Wanda and I will be winning best couples costume.” Wanda gave you a knowing grin and a not at all subtle wink in response to your statement.
“Only the best for the best.” She replied, walking forward and linking her arm with yours, stealing you away from Peter who whined in protest, “Oh hush, you can have her back later.”
Telepathy definitely had its perks, one of those perks being you could tell there was more to Wanda than just being an evil puppeteer. The two of you got along extremely well, you were actually growing to see her as a friend. It helped that you knew her story, though. You sympathised with her, knowing full well that if you lost the love of your life you’d probably create a false reality to be with him too. You’d already followed him into a fake reality so you supposed it wasn’t really too much of a stretch to imagine yourself in Wanda’s position.
As the night went on, yourself, Wanda and Peter were sitting around in town square, the twins having run off somewhere. Tensions were high between the interreality siblings at the minute, Peter seemed to be having the time of his life getting on Wanda’s last nerve, poking and prodding at her lifestyle choices.
“Lay off, Pete.” You warned quietly, your stare serious as you felt Wanda becoming impatient with the mutant. Your breathing stopped for a moment and you let put a horrified gasp, your hand clapped over your mouth as you stared at the image in front of you.
Peter’s skin was grey, his eyes were milky and he was littered in what you could only assume to be bullet holes- he was dead- no, you realised as you caught Wanda’s pained expression, he was Pietro.
Wanda regained her composure after a few seconds but the sight of Peter dead was enough to shake you to your very core and you found yourself shaking where you stood.
You didn’t even have a chance to regain your composure before shit had hit the fan. It had happened in a blur, Billy and Tommy were frantic and worried about Vision being in trouble and next thing you knew Wanda was sending Peter flying with a ball of energy after he made a smartass comment about Vision not dying twice.
Quickly, you ran to Peter’s side, he was groaning in pain and looking up at you through squinted eyes, “What the hell was that all about?” He grumbled, hiding his head in your lap when you got down on your knees beside him.
With a sigh you let your body fold against his, wrapping your arms around him and letting your head rest against his shoulder, the image of him bleeding out still too fresh and real in your mind. You could berate him for his brash behaviour another time, for now though; you just needed him close.
“Come on, dumbass. Let’s get you home before you decide to cause more trouble.” You mumbled, pulling him up with you. Ignoring his whining while you led him home, your arm remained firmly around his waist the whole way despite the fact he’d recovered from the blast Wanda dealt him after only a few minutes.
When you got back to the house that Wanda had deemed yours upon your arrival, you finally allowed yourself to breathe. Peter was staring at you with a guilty expression as you released a heavy breath through your nose and shuffled into the kitchen, the heels of your boots scraping on the hardwood as you walked.
Like a lost puppy, Peter followed you. Once he reached you lent against the sink he wrapped his arms around you from behind. He knew you weren’t angry at him by the way your arms immediately moved to grip his and tug them tighter around you.
“You know, her real twin- Pietro… he died,” Peter’s face contorted in confusion when you began to speak, he listened with concern as he could already hear your voice beginning to shake, absentmindedly he caught himself tucking you closer against his chest. “For a second… you must have said something that hit a nerve but for a few seconds…” Your voice hitched and you shook your head in an attempt to knock the image out of your mind, though you had a feeling it would haunt you for as long as you lived. When Peter noticed you’d started chewing at your bottom lip, as you always did when something was causing you anxiety, he gently turned you around in his arms so that he could look at you, his arms remaining firmly around you, yours finding a place resting against his chest.
“What happened, sweetheart?” He cooed, his eyes very much alive and staring into yours.
Swallowing thickly you answered, “You looked like him. You were dead.” You told him quietly and he was sure the look of grief on your face, brought on by the thought of him dying, would haunt him for a lifetime.
Your eyes watered as you took in his face. Scanning every part of it, his brown eyes that made you melt, the dimples that could still be faintly seen even when he wasn’t smiling, the lips that took up the vast majority of your thoughts and that tiny furrow between his brows as he looked down at you with worry.
You loved him.
Of course, you’d known this for years. But you needed him to know, and even though you were already well aware the overwhelming feeling is mutual, you needed to hear him say it.
His thumb running under your eye pulled you from your thoughts, “I’m not going anywhere, baby.” He whispered softly, his hand cupping your cheek as his thumb ran back and forth over your cheek bone. Your stomach flipped at the pet name and you nuzzled against his touch.
“Good. I don’t want to lose you ever again.” You confessed, looking up at him through your lashes fondly as his lips formed an almost sad smile.
Gently, he brought his lips down to meet yours, pouring his heart into the kiss, hoping it would make up for the turmoil he felt responsible for causing you. Too soon, he pulled away.
“Believe me, I’m never leaving your side. I mean come on, I’m without you for like three days and I end up being mind controlled by my sister who isn’t even my sister.” He chuckled out, a grin growing on his face as you began to smile too. He let his eyes close blissfully when you brushed your nose against his, a toothy smile on your face.
“You, Peter Maximoff, are completely hopeless.” You whispered through your smile as he opened his eyes to look at you. His own face sporting an adoring smile.
Your heart skipped a beat the second his next words passed through his smiling lips, “Without you, Y/n L/n, yes I am.” Within a second your arms were around his shoulders and your lips were moving frantically against his. Peter’s hands wasted no time in sliding down to your thighs, gripping them and propping you up onto the kitchen counter.
Your legs automatically wrapped around his waist and your hands got lost in his hair, keeping him as close as humanly possible while his lips migrated to your jaw.
An appreciative hum left your throat as he lapped at the underside of your jaw, leaving a mark before trailing his lips back to your mouth. His tongue licked at your bottom lip as he kissed you, moving it into your mouth the first chance he got. Peter moaned into your mouth when you gave his tongue a light suck.
You grinned at the sound and leaned your weight forward so you were primarily resting against his body, your arms and legs wrapped tightly around his body, your ass barely resting on the counter by that point. Welcoming your movements, Peter’s hands glided up from your thighs to grip your ass and pull you from the counter completely.
He carried you clumsily through the halls of the house, bumping into furniture and pausing to press your body against walls, his eyes closed and lips never separating from yours. You were about a foot away from the stairs when you felt your back make contact with the plaster behind you, your chest heaving when Peter abandoned your lips in favour of littering wet kisses across your chest, no doubt leaving a trail of hickeys in his wake.
You let your head fall back against the wall, enjoying the sensation of Peter nipping and licking at your skin, the man diving back to your neck as soon as he realised that your head thrown back made it entirely exposed to him. You released a breathy moan when his lips ghosted over a sensitive patch of skin, he moved his tongue frantically and you shuddered at the feeling of his hot breath hitting your bruised skin.
“Peter…” You whined when he pushed his crotch up against yours, pressing you further into the wall smirking against your neck when you called his name.
“Yes?” He asked teasingly, rutting his hips against yours once more, deliberately attempting to pull another moan from you, he obviously succeeded. His smirk broadened when you let out a huff and tugged his hair so he’d look at you.
Peter swore he was in heaven when his eyes met yours again, your face was red and your eyes were half-lidded, pupils blown wide with lust as your chest heaved. He could’ve exploded on the spot when you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth and looked at him innocently, all the while grinding your hips slowly and firmly against his. Peter clenched his jaw and let his eyes fall shut, his hands gripping your hips so tightly that you were pretty certain the area would have bruises come tomorrow. You were struggling to care about that though, focusing your energy on the man who had you pinned against the wall.
You brought your lips to Peter’s neck, repaying the favour, not detaching until you left a dark, albeit small, purple bruise on the underside of his jaw. Deciding to prolong the teasing for a little while longer you moved your lips up and let them hover by his ear and you began to let out soft little moans in response to his grinding, the action caused Peter’s movements to become more frantic and your lips to form in a smirk as you felt him hardening against you.
His breath was laboured when he murmured, “Let’s take this upstairs, yeah?” Before you could even answer he had sped the pair of you to the bedroom and you let your feet return to the floor.
As he stood in front of you, you took him in, swollen lips and Halloween hair completely tossed, not to mention the tent in his trousers that was very visible despite the layers of his costume. When your bodies collided again, it was a frenzy of hands, the both of you practically tearing the fabric off the other until you were in nothing but your underwear, kissing sloppily and stumbling towards the bed.
Peter’s lips attached to your chest again the second your back hit the mattress. He groped at your right breast while his tongue sucked on the other, swapping over before you pulled him back up to you.
The way he slotted between your legs and how his forehead rested on yours felt so perfect, you couldn’t help but grin.
“You’re gorgeous, sweetheart.” He muttered between kisses against your lips, his hands kneading your breasts as he did.
You were practically dripping by the time his hand slid down your stomach and under the band of your underwear. For someone with super speed he was moving agonisingly slow at the moment, his hand rubbing languidly over your wet core while he swallowed your moans.
“Fuck- God, Peter please.” You whined, your hips bucking into his hand, desperate for more friction than he was giving you.
The sound of your voice, so needy for him, was all he needed before he was pulling your underwear off, tossing the thin material over his shoulder haphazardly and shimmying out of his own boxers, clumsily kicking them away from his ankles, earning a giggle from you.
When he kneeled on the bed between your bent and separated knees you sat yourself up, sliding one hand up his bare chest and resting it against his shoulder while the other slid downward, only stopping once it was wrapped around his shaft. Peter sucked in a harsh breath when your began pumping him softly, the man completely losing it when your thumb swiped over his tip collecting the precum that had gathered and using it to wet the length of his dick as you continued to fuck him with your hand.
As much as Peter was loving the image and feeling of you jacking him off, he knew if you carried on he wouldn’t be able to last much longer. Still, he didn’t have the heart to pull your hand away when you were making him feel so good. His head found it’s favourite spot in the crook of your neck and he groaned out against the skin that was littered with little purple and red marks from his earlier work, which he’d be sure to admire later, “Shit, Y/n-“ He croaked through a moan, hands gripping your hips as he fought the urge he had to thrust into your hand, “M’not gonna last much longer if you keep doing that.” He groaned out, almost reluctantly, not truly wanting you to stop while simultaneously craving more.
You stopped your motions at his statement, giggling when he let out a strangled noise of disappointment at the sudden lack of pleasure. Doing the honours, you lined him up with your entrance, letting him take over when his lips connected with yours.
Peter gently pushed you back until your head was resting against your pillow and your back was flush with the mattress. His lips continued to mesh with yours as he pushed into you inch by inch until he bottomed out. The deep groan he released was music to your ears and your hands gripped his biceps when he began to thrust in and out.
A symphony of moans filled the room as Peter had managed to set a steady pace, trying his best not to let his mutation get the best of him, as much as he wanted to just go to town he was determined to make you feel as good as you made him feel and judging by the way your head was thrown back and his name fell from your lips like a prayer; he guessed he was doing an okay job.
In only a few minutes Peter had you gasping and clutching onto him like your life depended on it as he picked up speed, one of his hands reaching down between your bodies to rub your clit, his hips snapping against yours. Soon enough, you felt the pressure in your stomach release, your walls clenching around Peter’s dick as your back arched and you released around him. After only a few more staggered strokes, Peter moaned your name against your lips, finishing inside of you and thrusting lazily, riding out his high and subsequently helping you ride out yours.
You let out a blissful sigh when Peter pulled out and rolled over to lay on his back beside you, his chest heavy and his blonde hair sticking slightly against his forehead.
“That- that was awesome.” He mumbled, intertwining his fingers with yours, holding your hand by his side.
Over the last couple of nights you and Peter had, admittedly, ended up in a similar position but neither of you intended for it to happen. It’d usually start off innocently enough, with cuddling or just talking and then one of you would move in just that little bit closer and things would escalate. But there was something about this time that felt a lot more emotional than the few times before. “It was.” You agreed with an airy giggle, squeezing his hand affectionately.
A gust of air shook you from your haze. Peter had taken it upon himself to clean up the mess the pair of you had left between your legs, a pair of his boxers and one of his t-shirts now adorned your body matching him as he wore the same.
He was on his side facing you, his arms holding you against his chest securely the same way they had the night you’d shown up in WestView and urged him to kiss you. When he took you in, he kicked himself for missing out on so much of you for so long.
He was certain, one of these days he’d actually speak the three words that followed him around whenever he thought about you, but as he watched your eyes flutter closed, he decided the words would be best spoken some other time. He was well aware you already knew, just as he was well aware that you loved him, it needed to be said. Eventually, but not quite yet.
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Fire And Ice
matthias helvar x reader - fire and ice
summary/request: “hey!!! could you do a matthias fic where the reader is an inferni so they’re very opposite (cause yk matthias and ice). and they get trapped or something and the reader keeps him warm with fire and idk some banter or something !!”
warnings: language, matthias helvar x inferni!reader
word count: 4.4k
A/N: There’s something about Matthias that makes me write long fics... maybe i simply love him 😌
In Y/N’s eyes, the Fjerdan landscape was dull. An endless sheet of ice, stretching as far as the eye could see. Occasionally there’d be a tree, a rock, a forest or an animal if she got really lucky. But it was simply bleak. Everything about the environment, the wind and the cold, seemed determined to snuff out her flame - literally.
Growing up, she’d always wondered what Fjerda looked like when her parents recounted tales of the frightening country with it’s mighty drüskelle. They were the boogie men of her childhood, lurking in the shadows - under the bed, in the closet, right around the corner. She imagined they looked horrifying, dressed in their large fur coats, blood splattered across their faces, and weapons hanging from their hands.
Now, walking just a few feet away from one, she couldn’t quite figure him out. Sure he was tall, broad and muscular enough to be a drüskelle. But he didn’t look bloodthirsty, ready to slit her throat at any given opportunity. He looked like a boy - young and slightly naive, though she knew he’d never admit that. He was very handsome too, but she’d rather die than admit that aloud.
When Kaz first pulled her aside in Ketterdam, explaining they’d be bringing a Fjerdan ex-drüskelle along to their job at the Ice Court, she’d thought Dirty Hands had finally lost his marbles. Surely he couldn’t be that crazy. Toting along a drüskelle and two known Grisha in the same party was asking for something to go horrifically wrong. But apparently Kaz had some idea of what he was doing. The Fjerdan was under his foot, obeying commands and not being a total asshole.
The cold, biting winds pulled Y/N from her deep thoughts. This was certainly not the climate for her. Their crew was bundled up, wrapped in heavy fur coats, but the cold still seeped through the fabric, chilling them to the bone. Everyone’s cheeks were rosy, fingers and toes numb - well everyone except for Matthias who kept trudging along like a stubborn ox.
“We’ve got to stop.” Nina called out to Kaz who led their group through the knee-deep snow.
Kaz turned around, his eyes frantically searching their group. Y/N knew that look, it was one of fear, of desperation. They should have come across a proper village ages ago, the only building in sight was the faint outline of one old hunting cabin.
“Matthias, how much farther?” Kaz’s stern voice carried with the howling winds.
The Fjerdan looked around at his surroundings, “There’s the mountain ridge. Just a bit farther - over the next two hills.”
Although he sounded convincing, Y/N wasn’t ready to quite believe him. They were strangers to the ice and the land, they were at the mercy of this drüskelle. If he really wanted to, he could simply be leading them into the wilderness, to their deaths.
Uncomfortably, Y/N shifted the large pack up her shoulder a bit. Her lungs stung as she drew in a deep breath of frigid air. Every muscle in her body burned, exhausted from the seemingly endless hike. Looking around at her friends, she knew they felt the same. Jesper, who was always teeming with energy, was doubled over, desperately trying to catch his breath. Poor Wylan looked frost bitten, snowflakes clung to his eyelashes and cheeks. Nina’s arms were weak, hanging limply at her sides, after keeping them in the air for so long to warm everyone’s bodies.
“We can’t all go on Kaz, at least not with this load.” Y/N stated, her hands motioning at the heavy packs of supplies everyone was carrying.
The boy gave a tight nod and raised a hand to shield his eyes from the flurry of falling snow, “You’re right, but we can’t leave our supplies. Everyone will keep going without packs, but Matthias and Y/N, you two will stay. Take the supplies to the cabin.”
At his words, everyone other than Y/N and Matthias dropped their bags into the snow, rolling their weary shoulders with relief.
“It will be easier to trek with the bags tomorrow, whenever this has passed,” Kaz stated, looking with disgust at the clouds pouring down snow.
“A blizzard,” Matthias commented before slinging one of the abandoned bags over his shoulder.
“You said this, I’m just saying it’s a blizzard.”
“That’s an unnecessary comment, Helvar.” Kaz snapped and turned away, waving a hand to beckon the others after him.
Their crew walked far easier in the deep snow without their bags weighing them down. Jesper got a bit of the spring in his step back and Nina raised her arms again, performing her small science to keep her companions’ hearts beating.
“Don’t take it to heart, drüskelle, Kaz is just well, Kaz. He doesn’t like being corrected.” Y/N reassured and awkwardly patted the Fjerdan on the shoulder.
Turning her back to the boy, she lugged several of the heavy packs onto her back. Their luggage weighed her down, making her bend forward slightly to keep her balance.
“My name is Matthias,” His voice rang out, cutting through the roaring of the wind.
“My name is Matthias, not drüskelle.”
“Unnecessary comment,” Y/N quipped with a grin and began trekking towards the hunting cabin.
With a groan, the Fjerdan trailed behind her, stopping every so often to pull the packs up higher on his back, “Are all Kerch so… rude?”
“I wouldn’t know, I’m Ravkan.”
It felt odd, bantering with the enemy. She’d spent time in the Second Army, specifically honing her skills to kill people like him. There was nothing more out of place in Fjerda than a Grisha who could manipulate fire.
Matthias simply replied with a huff and tucked his head down, to shield his face from the bitter cold winds. Each step felt like a trial, a hurdle to overcome. The cold felt even more unbearable now that they were on their own. Glancing over her shoulder at the ridge, she could no longer see the silhouette of her friends. She was alone with a Fjerdan - life couldn’t get any more bizarre than this.
Hints of a golden sunset began to peek through the heavy clouds and raging snowfall, softly adorning the snow covered mountain peaks in shades of orange. It starkly reminded Y/N of Ravka, the tall golden late summer grasses waving in the steady winds. She missed it, the warm kiss of the sun upon her bare skin.
A heavy hand on her back pushed her forward, making her stumble slightly in the deep snow, “Watch it!”
“Hurry!” Matthias’s accent was thick as he battled to cry out over the snow and wind that now roared more violently than ever, “It’s getting worse.”
The Fjerdan was right, Y/N’s line of sight was now filled with a white, blurry haze of snow. Stumbling forward, hands out in front of her, she felt for any sign of the hunting cabin. Soon, her hands hit the rough old wooden siding. She fumbled around, roaming the side of the cabin with her hands, desperately searching for a door. Matthias searched as well, walking around the corner of the cabin. Worst case scenarios ran rampantly through Y/N’s mind. What if it’s locked?
Her hands soon ran over a door and eventually, the door knob. With bated breath, she slowly twisted it and pushed. The door opened. Oh thank the Saints, Y/N thought, giving the door a shove to fully open it. Inside the cabin was dark, dirty, and just as cold as the outdoors. But it was a refuge from the snow.
“Drüskelle, over here!” Y/N yelled, her throat raw from breathing in the frigid air.
She dropped her packs to the frozen dirt floor, a layer of dust rising into the air with a poof. Matthias entered the cabin, stomping the packed snow off of his boots, and roughly shoved the door shut behind him. Together they breathed deeply, hands cupped over their mouths, trying to warm both their numb fingers and stinging lungs.
Slowly, Y/N’s eyes adjusted to the darkness inside the cabin. It was a sharp, blinding contrast to the flurry of white outside. The walls were made of dark, old, greying wood and everything inside looked several decades old. A cot, covered in a few holey blankets and thick furs, a fireplace was along one wall, paired with various brass pots and pans, but that was about it. It was clearly still in use, just not kept up to modern standards.
Matthias broke away, dropping his bags and coats on the floor, and quickly picked up some of the old blankets. With one, he moved back to the door and while crouching down, rolled it up and stuffed it along the small crack at the bottom of the door. Y/N watched, immensely perplexed at his strange actions. What is he doing? Next he moved towards the one window that provided a glimpse at the storm outside, and threw the blanket over the rusted curtain rod. Now, only small bits of light from the setting sun were able to work their way through the holes in the blanket. With his work completed, Matthias stepped back and brushed his now dusty hands against his pants.
“What was that all for?” Y/N questioned, gesturing towards the window and door.
“You people know nothing,” Matthias chuckled, striding across the little cabin and collapsing into an old rocking chair next to the fireplace.
Y/N clenched her jaw, he just had to be infuriating, didn’t he? “I’m willing to bet Ravkans are on average far smarter than the Fjerdans.”
“Then you tell me what I just did.”
Y/N immediately quieted. How would she know? She wasn’t made to live on ice.
Matthias shook his head, a comical grin spreading across his flushed face, “You are clueless.”
The girl immediately rolled her eyes and bent down to rummage through one of the bags for food provisions, “Stop your gloating already.”
“It’s for insulation. Wind and snow will come through the door crack and windows let the cold in.” Matthias explained simply, tilting his head from side to side to stretch his neck.
Y/N huffed in response. As much as she hated to admit it, it did make sense. She wasn’t willing to praise him for his quick thinking though. She fumbled through the bag in the darkness, feeling around for the tins of food. It was useless, Jesper had packed the food and instead of trying to be somewhat orderly, he’d just thrown things in at random.
The boy immediately rose to his feet and tentatively walked over. She could feel his eyes roam over her crouched form. There was a feeling, something she couldn’t quite figure out, about Matthias. Then it hit her - he was wary.
“Hold this open.” Y/N handed the bag to him.
With a questioning gaze, the Fjerdan took the bag from her hands and held it open. Y/N took a step back, a safe distance from the boy and dug around in her pocket for the gloves. When she pulled them out, she could faintly see the red and blue embroidery in the light. Her last memento from her time in the army. After slipping her hands into the rough fabric, she stretched her fingers wide, getting a feel for the gloves again.
With a snap of her fingers, fire was born. A bright red flickering flame grew, licking at the cold air. Matthias violently flinched away, his eyes growing wide and staring at the girl with something that looked a lot like disgust.
“You’re a drüsje.” His accent was heavy, sounding almost frightened.
Y/N rotated her hand and the flame following like an obedient dog. Skillfully, she tilted the ball of fire so the contents of the bag were illuminated in the flickering orange light. The silver tins of food glinted back at her, each displaying a little label for what each contained.
Y/N muttered to herself as she sorted through, “Fish? No. Oh wait, ooo.” She pulled out two little tins of jerky and two cans of vegetables. “Our dinner.”
The food wasn’t nearly as gross as it looked, especially when warmed to a nice hot temperature. Y/N had patiently kept a flame flickering under her tins of food, until the chill of the Fjerdan cold left and was replaced with steamy warmth. During this process, the room had begun to warm a bit as well, the fire desperately trying to fend off the dipping temperatures.
Y/N was stationed by the fireplace, keeping the fire within raging. Matthias sat on the cot, eating the tins of cold food that he refused to let her warm up. He was stupidly stubborn.
“The vegetables are better warm.”
Matthias huffed in response and shoveled another piece of jerky into his mouth, “I will not eat anything made with your magic.”
“Saints, drüskelle, it’s not magic, it’s science.” With a snap and twirl of her fingers, a jet of fire went whipping through the room before returning to the fireplace.
Matthias paled and clenched his jaw which twitched slightly with anger, “Would you stop that?”
It was wildly entertaining, watching the big not-so-scary Fjerdan squirm every time she ignited a new flame. “With the temperature steadily dropping, you’ll be begging for it tonight.” Y/N spoke, sending a wink at the Fjerdan.
At those few words, Matthias coughed, his face flushing an even brighter red, accentuated by the orange glow from the fire casting across his features. The longer they spent together, trapped in that grimey cabin, the farther she wandered away from hating him.
“Easily flustered I see.” Y/N commented, slightly smiling while stretching her hands towards the fire to renew its strength.
“You are incredibly lewd.” Matthias replied and Y/N could feel his gaze roaming the side of her face.
“But I think you like it.”
Y/N glanced over her shoulder, watching him huddled on the cot. He shook his head, but a grin was splayed across his face, making smile lines appear. The Fjerdan did like it. She knew that, it was obvious with the way his gaze lingered on her, even when she ignited the flames that made him wince.
The sun dipped below the edge of the earth, and the moon now took its place in the sky, shining faint traces of moonlight into the cabin. With the sun’s exit, the temperatures continued the plummet. Y/N was fairly toasty wrapped in her blankets and furs, huddled next to the fire that consumed all the strength left in her. It was exhausting, keeping the fire roaring, battling against the harsh Fjerdan elements. The winds and snow roared outside with renewed veracity, punishing the cabin which creaked beneath the pressure.
Matthias stayed planted in his spot on the cot, in the chilliest corner of the room, bundled up in blankets that barely kept the chill away. Being so far from the fire, he shivered, the clattering of his teeth filled the cabin. The sound was infuriating.
“You know, I’m sure Djel wouldn’t punish you for utilizing small science to stay alive.” Y/N snapped, finally beginning to lose her temper. She was cold and tired, her entire body aching, and it peeved her that the Fjerdan was choosing to be uncomfortable.
“I have been trained to survive in conditions like these.” Matthias roughly replied, shrugging his furs up higher so they covered part of his face.
Y/N raised an eyebrow, her eyes trained on the Fjerdan’s burly figure, “So, just for the record you are choosing hypothermia and frostbite?”
Matthias replied with a single nod of his head. Of course he would. Sighing, Y/N unwrapped some of her blankets and furs and laid them upon the floor in front of the fire. She needed sleep, but the fire also needed tending, so she compromised. Nap next to the fireplace and occasionally awake to reignite the flames.
Laying down, she curled up under the blankets. The chill of the frozen dirt flooring seeped into the blankets beneath her, causing her skin to prickle with gooseflesh. But oddly, it felt nice, the cold and warmth conflicting inside of her. Heat beat down upon her bare face from the raging flames, reminding her of the sun kissed warmth of home.
The night slowly passed, drifting in and out of sleep while keeping her only heat source going. It felt like a bit of a fever dream, not really sure when she was awake and when she was asleep. She was sure it was caused by fatigue, her body relishing in the relaxation.
Y/N was convinced she had to be dreaming when her body was carefully picked up, raised off the hard floor, and then deposited onto a softer surface. Warm blankets and furs were gently tucked around her, lulling her towards a deeper sleep.
Fluttering her eyes open, she saw Matthias’s wide frame leaning over her, the high points of his face ever so slightly illuminated by the fire. His nose and cheeks were bright red with cold and his hands that moved her blankets were frigid.
“What are you doing?” Y/N croaked, her voice thick with sleep.
Matthias’s hands jumped at the sound of her voice and his eyes flickered up to meet hers. He quickly let go of the blankets and took a few steps back, “Can’t sleep with the cold. I thought you’d need the cot more than I.”
Shuffling over, Y/N laid on the far edge of the cot, creating room next to her which she patted with her hand. “Don’t be ridiculous. You need to sleep too.”
What was she doing, offering to sleep next to a Fjerdan? Something deep inside told Y/N she was making the right choice. They needed each other, she felt that was surely true. He needed her fire for warmth and she needed his body heat to preserve her energy that was already steadily waning.
Matthias shifted his weight between his feet, uneasily glancing at the empty spot on the cot. He shrugged off his fur coats, letting them hit the ground, and kicked off his dirty boots. Carefully, he laid down on the cot next to Y/N. They were squished together tightly, squirming around to get comfortable. The coldness of Matthias chilled Y/N to the bone, drawing out the warmth she once felt.
“Saints, you are freezing.”
“I’m fine.” Matthias grumbled and laid on his back, one hand underneath his head, acting as a cushion.
What an idiot, Y/N thought, sitting up, won’t even admit he’s cold. With a snap of her fingers, a ball of flickering flames ignited in her hand. A vibrant orange glow sharply cast over Matthias’s face, a stunning contrast from the icey blue of his eyes. He watched her warily as she turned slightly to face him. Gently, she picked up his hand nearest to her and brought it close to the flame, warming his numb fingers. His eyes stayed trained on her face, carefully examining her.
Y/N could feel his intense gaze, boring into her face but she focused on the flames, “Is that better?”
Glancing at Matthias, their eyes met and he nodded. With a small smile, she dropped his now warmed hand and moved her hand carrying the flame so that it hovered over his face. The tension between them hung heavily in the air, making the breath catch in Y/N’s throat everytime Matthias glanced at her.
There was something unusually intimate about warming him, surging life back into his unhealthily cold body. The red flush of Matthias’s face from the biting cold began to fade, but was quickly replaced with a different type of red flushing - one from the warmth and possibly, Y/N thought for a moment, from her. With a flick of her fingers, the ball of flames raced across the room until it joined the fire raging in the fireplace.
Y/N laid back down, her back facing him, settling under the blankets while trying to keep a bit of distance between herself and the drüskelle. But he had other plans. That much was apparent when he rolled onto his side and wrapped an arm around her torso. Shock flooded Y/N’s body, nearly knocking the air out of her lungs as her eyes widened.
Before she could even open her mouth to question, he pulled her back against his broad chest and murmured into her ear, “For body heat.”
Y/N gave a tight nod and silently prayed for her heart to slow its erratic thumping. She’d laid next to male friends in the Second Army when housing had been scarce. But this was different, so different. Her heart, now deemed a traitor, fluttered every time Matthias’s breath fanned across the back of her neck. Her stomach tumbled whenever the Fjerdan readjusted his arm, sometimes holding her just a bit tighter. A sickening feeling crawled through her body as she came to a realization. She liked him. Y/N quickly squeezed her eyes shut, anything but that.
A thick voice interrupted her thoughts, cutting through the chaotic feelings that tossed like waves in her mind, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Y/N winced at her response. It was far too cold, too quick.
“Your heart is racing.” Matthias commented, concern obvious in his voice. It was an odd thing to hear, him worrying about her. What was even worse was the way his thumb had begun to absentmindedly stroke her side, in an almost comforting manner.
Y/N sighed, struggling to think of a response. She couldn’t tell him what she was really thinking. “Just stressed, thinking about how I don’t want to die in Fjerda.”
Matthias lightly chuckled but then his voice dropped, and he responded honestly, “I won’t let you die.”
Y/N smiled at the thought of a Fjerdan vowing to not let her die. “If I freeze to death tonight, don’t burn my body on a pyre.”
“I wouldn’t, it’s illegal.” The boy had tried to sound serious, but she could hear the amusement laced in his voice.
“After being with the Crows the whole “it’s illegal” spiel isn’t too comforting.” Y/N quipped in response.
Matthias erupted into laughter, the joyous sound filling the cabin, overriding the howling of the winds outside. A wide grin spread across Y/N’s face as well, she couldn’t help it. There was something about his laugh that was simply infectious.
Y/N awoke when the bright sun shone, brightly illuminating the room. Her eyes slowly blinked open, adjusting to the sharp light. The fire had died in the early morning hours, now just a few flames flickered in the fireplace, returning the room to a frigid cold. But underneath the heavy blankets and furs with Matthias cuddled up against her, Y/N didn’t feel cold at all.
The man’s arm was slung across her torso, firmly holding her against his chest. His face was settled in the crook of her neck, his warm breath gently fanning across her skin. For a second, Y/N thought of drifting back to sleep, abandoning the plan of following in the tracks of Kaz and the crew. But she knew she couldn’t stay there forever, cozily wrapped in Matthias’s arms.
She rose to her feet, carefully untangling herself from the blankets to not disturb the Fjerdan’s peaceful sleep. Yet the moment she slipped out from under his arm, he jerked awake, eyes flying open. His eyes softly focused on her before stretching out, throwing his arms overhead, with a little groan.
Crouching down, she slipped on her pair of hiking boots and did up the laces, but she found herself glancing over her shoulder, intently watching the Fjerdan’s movements. It seemed as though with a new day’s sun, she was seeing Matthias in a new light. In the span of twelve hours, Matthias had unknowingly carved out a little home for himself in her heart.
Together they worked in tandem, gathering their supplies quietly all while stealing a few glances at each other. The tension of unsaid words lingered in the air, but they focused on their task for the day - meeting back up with the crew. With their bags packed and upon their backs, they walked towards the door to the cabin and swung it open. To Y/N, the landscape didn’t seem so dull anymore. Freshly laid snow sparkled in the sunlight, glittering like diamonds.
Y/N glanced up at Matthias who towered over her and smiled at him, “Ready to go, Matthias?”
Suddenly, a large grin erupted across his face which soon paired with a laugh.
“What?” She questioned, taken aback by his outburst of laughter.
“That’s the first time you’ve said my name. Am I not Fjerdan or drüskelle anymore?” Matthias’s eyes glittered as he spoke the words. His eyes were a bright light blue, just like ice.
Y/N grinned and dramatically raised a hand to her forehead, “Oh no, I’ve gone insane from isolation.” She let out a laugh and slightly bumped her shoulder into his arm teasingly.
The Fjerdan rolled his eyes and crossed the threshold, his feet immediately sinking into the deep snow drift. Y/N sighed and plunged into the snow as well, hoisting the bags a little higher up on her back. Walking forward, she kept her eyes trained on the ridge that the crew had disappeared behind the previous night. Matthias fell into step behind her, occasionally reaching a hand out to steady her when she lost her balance.
Soon reaching the top of the ridge, they could spot the outline of roofs just beyond the next. Just faintly, carrying with the wind, Y/N swore she heard Jesper’s laugh.
“Wait…” Matthias blurted out, right as Y/N was preparing for the hike over the next ridge.
She whipped around to face him, “What?”
Matthias slowly walked forward until he was just inches from her, “Just one more thing.”
Dipping down, cupping her face in his hands, he quickly captured her lips with his, and a fire erupted inside Y/N at the sensation. His kisses swept her off her feet and left her mind reeling with thinking about what exactly just happened. Breaking away, she gasped for air and stared up at Matthias who had a smirk playing upon his lips.
Was he obnoxious? Sure. Stubborn? Of course. A drüskelle? Well, possibly reformed. But he was Matthias, the ice to her fire.
Matthias taglist (comment “tag me” to be added)
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Hi can i request a mafia ushijima ily tyy❤️ ❤️
A/N: Dude, I fucking popped off on this request....i loved being able to have a simple request and turning it into whatever....i hope you all enjoy
He’s your enemy
You can’t be in love with your enemy
Yet you are, my god are you in love with him
Ushijima and you had met at a gala
An art gala nonetheless, and his presence was resounding
People avoided him whenever he moved from piece to piece
But you, you didn’t know who he was until it was to late, but we’re not there yet in the story
You wore a simple black silk dress that was flimsy but hugged your curves
Ushijima wore an all black suit, but no tie so his first 3 buttons were unbutton
his skin was a soft tan color, most likely from being out in the sun
hair slightly messy, but looking at him it didn’t look that way
Ushijiam’s way of carrying himself made that messy hair natural and proper
Holding a glass of red wine you walked up next to him and stared at the art work he was gazing at so intently
What you were staring at had you snort a little on your sip of wine
It was you
you were going to kill your friend
The photoshoot was for fun, and he promised to not use it
yet, here was your picture in black ad white the only color was your painted red lips ad your eyes
Ushijima turned towards you and when you looked up, his eyes knew yours immediately
Without a word he walks off leaving you to brew in your embarrassment and anger towards your friend
Later into the night you turn hearing your name being called as your said “friend” comes running up happy as hell
“Your picture was my highest sell of the night!!” They squeal
“WHAT!?” You screech out of shock but also fear of who could have bought it
“I KNOW! That infamous Ushijima bought it! It’s amazing!” They squeal
Your throat closed up faster than someone having a allergic reaction
After that night you started to see him everywhere
In the small antique bookstore you frequented
the cute hole in the wall café you love so much
But the night he finally spoke to you..or more so looked at you was at a charity masquerade ball
You wore this elegant yet simple navy blue off the shoulder bodycon dress that had a slit on the left leg that stopped midthigh
it hugged all your curves and showed off the matching navy blue Chi Chi high heels that were strappy and on the strap across your toes had small flower diamonds on them
And for your mask you went with a simple black lace crown masquerade mask that wasn’t clunky and it was still elegant
Out of all the people you were the one that down played their outfit
some people looked like they stepped out of a fairytale or movie set
You didn’t even know he was there till you turned and bumped into a wall
more so that wall was Ushijima
Freezing you look up to see his hazel eyes burning into yours
Swearing up and down you could see a smirk playing on his lips
“You should be more careful.” He grumbles and walks off leaving you there with your heart pounding out of your chest
the rest of the night was spent with you watching where you went to avoid Ushijima
It seemed fate another idea when you walked outside to the garden with fairy lights and small groups of people scattered
Walking deeper into the garden you stopped in front of a fountain that was marble
the centerpiece was a woman who only had a whimsy cloth barely covering her
it looked so real that you could see the woman posing and the cloth moving around covering her bottom half but her breasts on show
“She reminds me of you.”
That deep voice, god it did a weird thing to you, with a slow turn you come face to face with him
his mask was off, hair slicked back, tie off and sleeves rolled up showing off his toned forearms
“And why is that?” You ask trying to not be affected with the way he studies you
He moves like a lion, like he was stalking his prey as he moves to you
“Because, that…..statue and you both have….magnificent….auras.”
Not even feeling it, he was able to slip your mask off, he was so close that you could smell the whisky on his breath and earth spice cologne
“Why did you buy the picture?” You whisper
“Because, i like owning gorgeous creatures.” He grumbles
With a clench of your jaw, you move back from him and notice that some guys were standing in the shadows watching
“I have to leave, goodbye.” You call voice catching from the anger burning in his eyes
After two months of running into each other the course of charities, cafes, bookstores, galas, museums you were finally called back to your home
the home of a husband that didn’t love you and was just a doll on his arm to show the power he had gained by marrying you
When you had to attend a “meeting” you finally learned why the name Ushijima sounded familiar
Heads of different people turned to you and your husband and those hazel eyes
Bless the fool who was on the end of that high powered flame in his eyes
and that look was trained on your husband who just smirked smacked your ass and sat down like he was a king
“Wakatoshi Ushijima…..my my my my…..to what do i own the pleasure of my number 1 enemy coming to my territory?” He seethed
Ushijima ignored him as he bore his glare into your face
“I didn’t know you were married.” He deadpans tearing his eyes away from you and placing them on your snake of a husband
“Oh….them…yes she’s just to warm my bed at night.” He chuckles making you grimace heat flooding your face
The room goes dead silent while his creepy eyes scan your body and then chuckles deeply
“You can always try her out if you want Wakatoshi.” his fingers grazing your arm making you flinch which doesn’t go unnoticed by the other side of the table
“The price?” Ushijima asks making your head snap up to look at him
“Hmmmm…..half your shipments for about 2 years.” Your husband smirks licking his lips
“Deal.” No one argues as Ushijima comes around and snatches you up dragging your out of there
It’s been almost 4 months since then and the closet Ushijima has been to touching you was when he caught you from falling down the stairs
He doesn’t force you into his bed, no touching unless he asks for permission, and lets you do whatever you want
You two didn’t become close until you started to cook breakfast for the boys, that ushijima started to join
A simple task that had them talk to you, and also learn that you were forced into the marriage
Tendou, who you learned had the red hair and upbeat personality was the one that helped you heal
He learned that, your husband was less than kind and would eve hit you
Tendou remembers the first time he raised his hand near you and made you flinch eyes closing waiting for the hit, that ever came
You were unaware of this, but Tendou told Ushijima who then told everyone to not to sudden movements, to treat you like a deer
The night you became very close with ushijima was when you were half asleep on the couch a blanket and book sprawled out around you
He had come home late and froze seeing you there and moved gently touching your hair
“Y/n.” he grumbled lowly, the soft baritone voice has you whine and roll over coming face to face with him
“Can I stay with you?” you asked softly and for once his stoic face was one of surprise
“I don’t want to be alone.” You continue making him nod and scoop you up
He carries you into his room and you can’t help but giggle when you see that damn picture hung over his bed
“really?” You ask looking at the picture
ushijima stops and bows his head down to look at you
“I like falling and waking up to pretty things, and you are that thing.” He mumbles laying you down on the bed
You giggle at it, but sigh sleep starting to win as ushijima moves handing you a plain black shirt that smelled of him
undressing he swiftly turns around and goes to the bathroom where he gets ready
stepping out of the bathroom you see he only wears long plaid pj bottoms which has a hazy smile grace your lips
he crawls into the bed with a weird softness and lays down, through your half-asleep mindset
you could still feel his eyes on you, eyes that you woke up to the next morning
after that, your dynamics changed
nothing but soft words and few touches were exchanged
the boys knew you two were sleeping together just not in the way you wanted too
He was so careful with you, his touches were soft, gentle, sometimes you didn’t even know he was touching you till you felt him pull away
but you wanted more, by god you wanted more
He was up working late at night when you made your move
you wore only his white shirt and had on black lace panties and that was it
“Ushi?” you called softly
No sooner than the name was slowly leaving your lips did his eyes snap up to see your tired state
a state you made yourself so he would hold you
“Everything okay?” he asks standing up and you swallow thickly
he wore black dress pants that hugged his legs and ass great
a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up
his first 3 buttons undone so you could see the rippling muscles that hide behind the shirt
for once he even had his gun strapped to his side
“I can’t sleep.” you mumble slowly moving into the office
his pupils dilated seeing you, under the soft light he could still see the outline of black hugging your waist and ass
“I’ll be there in a second, so go back to bed.” He grumbles turning away and sitting down but you huff
“I’ll just stay here.” You whisper which has him look up as you slide yourself into his lap
“Y-” but he stops saying your name when he feels you sit perfectly ontop of his which has he hands shoot out quickly
“Don’t.” He snarls but you down listen and put weight down, and you whine feeling his dick right against your panties
“Please....please.” You whisper moving slightly
the tight ropes that were wrapped on his self control were snapping slowly and you could see that
it was evident in the way his eyes were hardening, but also the way his dick was quickly doing the same
“Y/n....if we do this, you’ll become mine and MINE alone. We do this and wipe your husband off the face of the world. We do this, and you won’t ever leave. You and me......I’ll have to marry you because being away from you is painful-” he moves his hand onto your stomach eyes focusing on it
“We do this, and i’ll get you pregnant, because the thought of carrying my child...our child will drive me insane. So...do you want that? If you say yes, i will love you till the end of the world, and when you die..I,,ill die so please, is that what you want?” He asks breathing labored as your fill slightly with tears
“Yes.” You whisper
That one simple word sealed you fate, a fate you didn’t mind have as long as it was with this man
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5 Times You Fell For Natasha & The One Time Natasha Falls
(A/N) hi im new to writing imagines and im currently writing a very long wonder woman/diana prince imagine that i might post so i posted this instead to see if anyone would read my garbage its over 20 pages already
Warning(s): Mentions of torture, mentions of child experimentations, heavy past-trauma themes, gay panics, ye olde im-in-love-with-my-best-friend trope, overused 5+1 trope
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader
Word Count: 5,828
Synopsis: As the newest Avenger, you find yourself becoming best friends with the Black Widow. Your bond is unlike most, and it isn’t long before you begin questioning your feelings for her. AKA the 5+1 fic we’ve all read before but I’m doing it anyway
Of all the Avengers you expected to get along with, Natasha Romanoff was certainly far from the top of the list. You knew enough about her to assume she’d be cold, distant, and while she can be those things, she’s also so much more. She is, obviously, smart and beautiful, but she’s also funny and loyal and she cares so much more than she shows.
It didn’t take long, much to your surprise, for you and Natasha to become something like best friends. Despite your prior convictions, you find that you share a lot in common with the ex-assassin. You suppose you shouldn’t have been so judgemental at first, seeing as you, too, were forced into becoming something deadly and dangerous.
What surprises you most about her, however, is just how soft she can be.
Your mission had been long and tedious. You’re exhausted the whole way home, dreading the thought of the others all waiting for you to return. However, rather than having all of the team welcome you home, somehow, Natasha had gotten the Tower cleared out. Just you, your best friend, some wine, and, to top it all off, she’s put on that movie she knows you love.
After cleaning yourself up, and after Natasha is satisfied that you aren’t fatally injured, you both settle onto the sofa underneath a fluffy blanket. She was always more touchy with you than the others - maybe it’s just because of how close you’ve become, or because you’re also a woman - and so it doesn’t surprise you when she ends up curled against you.
“You’re so warm,” she sighs, and you chuckle.
“Fire powers, remember? Human space-heater.”
“How was the mission?”
You sigh slowly, your arm winding between her back and the couch so that you’re both more comfortable. “Carson got the files. No sign of- ah, of him.”
Her hand lands on your thigh, squeezing comfortingly as she sips her wine. “We’ll find him.”
The finality in her voice, and the sincere concern in her emerald eyes, are enough to make you believe her.
You settle into light conversation as the movie plays in the background, Natasha filling you in on the latest trouble the boys got into. Apparently, Tony made Peter a real hoverboard. So far, his lessons have gone incredibly poorly, and that’s why there’s a new dining table.
In the dim lighting of the tv, you realize with quite a start how lovely Natasha is. That’s not to say you didn’t find her pretty before - she’s gorgeous - but there’s something shifting inside you. She’d set aside her entire evening to plan this for you, to welcome you home in a way that wouldn’t be grating on the system or nerves. Everyone wants the Serpent dead - or, at the very least, in custody - and everyone is well-aware of what he’d done to you. What he turned you into.
And to save you from the inevitably stressful conversations, Natasha kicked everyone out so you’d have some alone time with her. Someone she knows you’re comfortable talking to, someone who understands.
Yes, something is changing. Something that simultaneously releases butterflies through your stomach and fills it with a heavy sort of dread.
You’re falling in love with Natasha.
Parties are something you’re still getting used to. At least, the kind that Tony throws, which Natasha promises is not what all parties are like. Once upon a time, you’d attended plenty of Galas as ‘security’ for the Serpent, whose name even you never knew. Those were a far cry from the chaos of Tony Stark’s parties.
So many bodies, all pressed tightly together. It’s too warm, even for your standards, and even if the champagne is free and expensive and the food is delicious, you can already feel your tolerance levels lowering. You’ve been working on your temper, as it’s a direct link to your powers, but when a body shoves into yours every five seconds, it’s a little more difficult.
Natasha, thankfully, senses your discomfort and is quick to meet you amidst the crowd. She’s in a short, tight black dress that leaves little to your imagination, and you hardly have the time to really appreciate it before she’s pulling you against her, leaning down to speak in your ear.
“Wanna steal some bottles and get on the roof?”
You nod all too eagerly, and the both of you are practically giggling like a bunch of teenagers as you snatch two bottles of champagne and two plates of food. Nobody seems to pay any mind, though you think Clint nodded at you as you passed him on your way to the elevator.
The roof isn’t exactly pretty, but it’s where you told Natasha all about your past and it’s where the both of you come when you can’t sleep - which is another quirk you share. You’ve spent a lot of long evenings up here, watching the sunrise in companionable silence or soft conversation.
It’s your spot, basically, and so you’re quick to make yourselves comfortable by sitting down on the throw blanket Natasha had somehow snatched from one of the hallway closets without your noticing. You simply pass the champagne bottle back and forth, making fun of Tony’s latest attempt at setting Steve up and Bucky’s over-the-top reaction.
“I’m not sure what Bucky’s waiting for,” Natasha sighs, leaning further on her right arm so that she’s leaning closer to you. She’s nearly laying down, with how she has to sit without her dress hiking up. “He should just grow a set and tell Steve he’s in love with him.”
“It’s not nearly so simple, Agent Romanoff,” you say matter-of-factly, taking the bottle from her as she passes it.
“Oh? And you’re the expert on unrequited love?”
The question actually makes you choke on the champagne; the alcohol stings your nose and waters your eyes as you sputter. “What? Unrequited-?”
“I’m just saying,” Natasha drawls with a chuckle as she plucks the champagne from your hand. “You haven’t really had much experience.”
You open your mouth to argue, but quickly shut it when you watch Natasha’s tongue running over her lip before she takes a swig. When she hands the bottle back to you, you take a longer gulp than necessary.
“Have you ever kissed anyone?” She asks, and this time you’re able to swallow before you make a bigger idiot of yourself.
Your cheeks are burning crimson, though, and despite it being late into the night the city provides plenty of light for Natasha to see how badly you’re blushing. “Uh- well, not- not really, no.”
“Do you want to?”
Is she trying to kill you? “I- I think so?”
“Is it Steve?”
“You’re clearly into someone if me asking about unrequited love had you choking. So, who is it?” She leans closer, and you’ve half a mind to tear ass back into the elevator.
“Nobody,” you have to look away from her intense, calculating gaze.
“So it is Steve.”
“It’s definitely not Steve.” You take another long gulp of champagne before handing the bottle back over.
“You think Wanda is my type?” You fix her with a look and she snorts.
“You don’t even know your type.” She huffs, pushing you lightly on the shoulder. “So… is it a woman, then?”
You puff out a rush of air, fixing the redhead with a pleading expression. “You’re relentless, you know that?”
“I wouldn’t mind!” She smirks. “I’m not exactly straight, either.”
You have to look down to keep her from seeing the blush this time. Please don’t tell me that. “So, what is my type, then?”
There’s a thoughtful hum, low and somewhat musical. When your face no longer feels like it’s burning, you return to watching her. She’s actually thinking about this, you can tell in the concentrated pull of her eyebrows, the narrowing of her eyes.
“You,” she begins, her lips stretching into a cocky smirk. “You are definitely a bottom. Is it Carol?”
“Whoa, wait, what?” You scoff. “What does that mean?”
“You are a bottom.” She repeats slowly, emptying the last of the bottle into her mouth and releasing it with a pop.
“Why do I feel offended? Should I feel offended?”
“Of course not,” Natasha laughs. “You’re just submissive.”
“How would you know?” You argue.
To your absolute shock and alarm, Natasha has somehow maneuvered herself until she’s nearly sitting in your lap, one of her hands tilting your chin up so that you’re looking right into her eyes as she leans in close. So close, in fact, that you freeze up entirely, and she’s still moving.
You barely register the kiss to your cheek until Natasha’s delighted laugh yanks you from your daze, back in the position she’d been in before as if nothing had happened at all.
“That,” she declares, “is how I know.”
You rub the spot on your cheek she’d kissed with a pout, like a child scorned, and Natasha lets out a crooning aww. “You play dirty, Romanoff,” you mutter, trying to hide just how hard you’re blushing and how damn fast your heart is racing.
“Don’t worry, cherrybomb, you’ll get that first kiss one day.” Natasha winks, and you roll your eyes.
You open the next bottle in silence, taking a few pulls before passing it. “For the record,” you give her a small smile. “It’s definitely not Carol, either.”
She huffs out a small chuckle. “Yeah, I didn’t think she was your type.” She looks out at the city, and you follow her gaze. You hear her drink before feeling the bottle press against your palm. Her fingertips brush against yours, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say she was the one with fire abilities.
Again, you find yourself falling, falling, falling.
It seems Natasha isn’t the only one interested in your love life. As soon as you let it slip that, given the conditions you were raised in, you didn’t really have any romantic experiences, the onslaught of set-ups began.
At first, Tony was really pushing an agent named Hunter, but that ended rather quickly when you ‘accidentally’ burned a hole in Hunter’s shirt when he tried hitting on you. (Oops.) Then, there was Raymond and Damien and eventually he started throwing women your way.
That’s when you knew something was up. Not that you weren’t aware of his antics prior, but the first woman he sends your way is Sofia - a rather busty redhead who worked as a medic on your last mission.
This party is much more tame compared to what Stark usually throws, and maybe it’s because it’s something like an office party. All of the guests are SHIELD agents, and it takes place in one of the lower levels that had been cleared out for the event.
Unfortunately, that means you have nowhere to run.
It’s obvious why he’d set you up with her. There aren’t many similarities, but the red hair is definitely the biggest - well, red flag, really. She’s pretty, sure, but she’s no Natasha. All this really proves, though, is that Stark knows.
Or, he knows something.
“You’re the one the Serpent took as a kid, aren’t you?” Sofia asks, and you clear your throat awkwardly.
“Yeah, that’s, um, me.” It’s a discussion you’ve had with everyone Tony’s tried setting you up with - and just about every agent brave enough to talk to you.
“Is it true you’ve got pyrokinesis? And super strength?”
You nearly finish the fruity mixed drink that’s being served on silver platters. “I do.”
Before Sofia can say anything else, however, an arm slides around your waist. At first, you nearly shove away from the person entirely, but as soon as it registers that it’s Natasha pulling you against her side, you relax.
“Hey, beautiful,” Natasha greets you, decidedly ignoring Sofia’s confused expression.
“Hey yourself,” you respond, blushing as your free hand settles on Natasha’s hip. There’s a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, and it isn’t hard to guess at what she’s playing at. “This is Sofia, I think Tony wanted me to meet her.”
“Stephanie,” Natasha looks at the other redhead with a deceivingly sweet grin. Judging by the sudden discomfort on Sofia’s face, you can only assume she sees right through Natasha’s nice act.
“Er, Sofia,” she corrects.
“Right, sure, thanks for keeping my girlfriend company. Have a nice night.” With this, Natasha guides you away from Sofia to the other side of the room, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say she was rather agitated.
“Thanks for the save,” you set your glass down on an empty platter and pick up a new drink from another. This one tastes like strawberries and citrus, but you can tell immediately that it’s strong. “Didn’t think you’d be the jealous type.”
At that, Natasha pulls away from you with a snort. “Didn’t know that Stark was turning on you. How many times has he tried setting you up?”
You shrug. “A few. They’re usually easier to ditch, though.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I dunno,” you take a sip of your drink. “Just didn’t think it was important.”
“I could have at least stopped him.” She sighs, then takes a long swig of her own cup. “She was… pretty.”
You watch Tony as he pauses mid-conversation with Bruce to look at you and Natasha. He’s got a stupid shit-eating grin on his face, and you immediately decide you want to punch him in it. “She was okay.”
“Not interested in dating a fellow agent?”
“Not interested in dating someone who only cares about my past.” You clarify, looking down at your drink.
Natasha’s free hand finds yours, fingers winding together to give you a small squeeze. “I get that.”
“I know you do,” you look back at her, that all-too familiar fluttering in your stomach back stronger than ever.
Yeah, you’re definitely in love with her.
When you were first saved by SHIELD, it took weeks for you to regain your ability to somewhat trust again. You were, after all, held in a fireproof cell - not a very good way to welcome someone. After the truth came out about why the Serpent’s secret weapon was a mutated girl, they were quick to ask you to join the Avengers in the hunt to bring him down. They promised protection, safety - promised he’d never get a hold of you again.
Of course, you didn’t believe them at first. It took a long time for you to feel safe again - anywhere, even the Tower. You’d spend long nights laying awake in bed, listening hard for any foreign sounds - which were all sounds, given that you weren’t used to being in the city. You had the worst nightmares, many of which revolved around the Serpent finding you and torturing you. Some were memories of how he turned you into what you are.
Those were always the worst, and thunderstorms always bring them back.
You can almost feel the searing pain of your body coming close to the brink of death, the crackling of lightning in your bones and veins, as you wake up in a cold sweat to the roar of thunder. For a moment, you’re stuck in the memory. You can hear his voice, telling you to be quiet, to be still. You can taste the blood in your mouth, smell the burning of your flesh. You think you hear a scream, and it takes a very long while for you to realize that it’s your own.
Your door opening throws you into a blind panic. You’re tangled in your sheets, and it’s a struggle to move away from the approaching figure. All you can see is him, his menacing glare, his snarling voice-
“(Y/N), it’s me,” but it isn’t him. It’s not him. You have to focus on that as a familiar face comes into view, one that doesn’t make you want to cry and run.
Natasha doesn’t expect you to throw yourself into her arms, sobbing profusely. Her stiff, startled posture quickly relaxes and her arms wrap around you, pulling you close against her. She’s slightly rocking the both of you, quiet words you don’t understand leaving her lips.
As you calm down, you realize she’s murmuring something in Russian. You knew she was from Russia and that she spoke the language, but you don’t think you’ve ever heard her speak it around you before.
It’s… nice, even if you don’t understand it. The softness of her tone is pleasant, anchoring you in the wake of your scrambled mind. Even after you’ve stopped crying, she doesn’t let you go, doesn’t stop speaking in that hushed voice.
I love her, you think mournfully. Holy shit, I’m in love with her.
You pull back just enough to wipe at your wet cheeks, muttering out: “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
“I heard you screaming and I was terrified,” Natasha admits quietly. “I thought-” another roll of thunder makes you shudder, and the redhead moves one of her hands from your back to brush your hair behind your ear. “Did you have another nightmare?”
You let out a shaking breath. “It was a memory.”
You hear Natasha sigh, and the next flash of lightning is enough to catch the concerned expression on her face.
“Do you want to sleep with me?”
The question should not make your mind go right into the gutter. Still, despite the warmth blooming in your belly, you nod. Natasha helps you untangle from your blanket, and while you miss the feeling of her arms around you, it isn’t long before she encourages you to lay back down.
You’re surprised when you feel a hand on your waist; Natasha is rarely so hesitant to ask you to cuddle. You ease yourself against her, becoming a cozy cocoon of limbs and sheets. She tucks your head under her chin, her hand running small, soothing circles into your back.
“I’m sorry you can’t forget him,” she murmurs so quietly you almost don’t hear her.
Sleepily, you tighten your own hold around her slightly. “It’s okay, Nat. It’s not your fault.”
“It’s not yours, either,” she reminds lightly.
Yes, you’re definitely hopelessly in love with her. Well, fuck.
You can almost hear the last thing Natasha said to you before you went out on this mission: “Kick some ass, be home for dinner.” An inside joke that started up rather early on in your friendship. You long to hear that voice again, the separation hitting you harder after your recent revelations about your feelings. To make matters worse, things have gone far south.
Your worst fear had been correct: the Serpent was looking for you, and he was determined to get you back. Somehow, he managed to ambush you and your squad. After the first month, you lost communications with the Tower, and with SHIELD, leaving you to lead alone. What had once been a two-month mission became three, then four, then six.
You’re exhausted by the time you’re back on the quinjet, both mentally and physically. The mission wasn’t successful at all; the facility you were supposed to infiltrate was supposed to be unguarded. Either the Serpent knew you were coming, or he was hiding something. He sent wave after wave of his goons after you, keeping you far from the place without the help of the other Avengers.
It was initially a precaution, when Steve and Fury told the agents to do everything in their power to ensure the Serpent didn’t find you and take you again. Most of the time, you were with Natasha or Steve or even Tony, but this was the first mission they sent you off to on your own, and it’s the first time the Serpent has ever truly come after you. Even in the heat of battle, there was always someone trying to lure you away from the thick of it
You are, honestly, very lucky to be alive right now.
You lost quite a few agents. Several others are injured, the medics working on them quickly for the entirety of the trip home. Home. You want nothing more than to curl up in your own bed and cry.
Your first mission on your own, and you blew it. Badly.
It’s late when you arrive, and you’re damn grateful for it. You’re silent as you limp through the seemingly empty Tower, the wounds on your leg and side finally starting to bother you. Really, your whole body is just sore. You feel like there isn’t a surface on it that isn’t bruised.
Your attempts at taking off your bloodied uniform are futile. You can’t help the quiet grunts of pain as you try to simply unzip your jacket, the sting in your side just too sharp to ignore.
There’s a soft knock at your door. You almost want to tell them to go away, but decide better of it and tell them to come in.
Natasha has uncharacteristically dark circles under her eyes, but the moment her gaze lands on you, there seems to be a spark of life within them. She breathes out a relieved sigh, shutting the door behind her and approaching you quickly, her eyes scanning all over your face as if she were drinking in every detail.
“They said you might not come back,” she says quietly.
You summon a small, cocky smirk. “Takes a little more than a small army to take me down.”
The redhead says nothing as she pulls you into a tight embrace. You let out a hiss when the contact causes your injuries to flare. Natasha immediately pulls away from you.
“You’re hurt.” She observes.
You shrug. “It’s just a flesh wound.”
“Let me look at it,” she orders, and you blush.
“I- uh, I can’t- really take this off.” You admit shyly.
“Can I-?” Her hand raises towards your jacket, and you nod reluctantly.
You’re embarrassingly flustered by the gentle way Natasha undresses you. It’s not even sexual, you’re just so caught up in the warmth of her gaze. The tenderness of her fingertips as they brush against your skin, careful as she helps you out of your shirt.
You watch her silently as she looks at your side, then nearly let out a strangled noise of surprise when she starts unbuckling your pants. When you’re just in your bra and underwear, she guides you to your desk chair and urges you to sit. She leaves your room for a few moments before returning with a first aid kit.
She gets to work quickly.
“This is gonna sting,” she warns before pressing something that reeks like chemicals against the wound on your side. You bite your lower lip and try to focus on anything but the way her free hand is balancing itself on the bare thigh of your uninjured leg. Once the blood is cleared away, she clicks her tongue. “It doesn’t need stitches, at least. Why didn’t you get these checked out on the quinjet?”
“I got the least of it,” you mumble, looking away from her.
As she applies bandaging to the wound, Natasha shakes her head disapprovingly. “Nope, you aren’t going to start thinking like that.”
“People died, Tash. To keep him from taking me.” You clench your fists at your sides as Natasha starts disinfecting your leg.
“And you are not to blame for that.” Her tone gives little room for argument, but still, you press on:
“If I was with anyone else - if anything happened to someone I knew - because of me, I don’t know what I’d-”
“(Y/N).” Natasha’s firm voice forces you to look back up at her. “I don’t know what I’d do if he got to you.”
“They died for nothing, Nat,” you whisper, unable to keep the tears from swelling in your eyes.
“They didn’t die for nothing,” Natasha’s hands go still. “You aren’t nothing.”
You fall silent after that, letting Natasha work on your leg. This one doesn’t need stitches either, but it’s deep. You’re usually a quick healer, anyway - though not instantaneously like most superpowered humans. Natasha takes great care in wrapping it up, though, and you feel like she’s taking a bit longer to treat this one than the first.
When she’s satisfied, she doesn’t move from her position. She had gotten on her knees to work on your leg, and now she’s just… quiet. You know her well enough by now to know that she’s working out a way to ask you something - or to say something.
“I was so fucking scared that I’d never see you again,” she murmurs, finally looking back up at you.
Your heart stammers in your chest at the intensity of those dark green eyes. “Sorry I was late for dinner,” you say to try and ease the sudden tension.
She inhales sharply, and you don’t know how to process the wetness rising in her eyes. You’ve never seen her cry before. Not once. “When they said they lost comms, I really thought-”
“Hey,” you place a hand on her shoulder. “I’m back, right? I’m okay.”
There’s a wet sniffle, and Natasha blinks her tears back. “Yeah,” she smiles, “you’re back.”
Despite the shimmering tears threatening to fall, and despite the obvious tiredness in her eyes, Natasha looks breath-taking. You didn’t realize just how much you missed her face until now, and you try to memorize every detail. Her pouty lips, her soft and delicate features that hide the danger of the Black Widow. Those emerald eyes you hadn’t stopped thinking about for the entirety of the past six months.
Maybe it’s the exhaustion, or maybe it’s just how heavily the thought has been on your mind for so long, or perhaps it’s a combination of the two. You just can’t help saying it out loud, so quietly you almost hope Natasha hadn’t heard it: “I’m so in love with you.”
There’s a blink of surprise, and your stomach drops. Why did you say that? You’re ready to spew out some kind of shitty cover that wouldn’t have made any sense when Natasha’s response stuns you into silence.
“It’s about damn time.”
And then her lips are on yours.
You definitely didn’t think kissing would be all it’s cracked up to be, but once you get over the initial shock you eagerly melt into the sensation of Natasha’s lips moving against your own. She’s slow, patient as she guides you. One of her hands is cupping your jaw, the thumb smoothing over your skin as her other hand grabs one of your own. She places it on her waist, and you quickly move your other hand to curl into her hair.
You feel something blossoming inside you, warm and brilliant as a summer day.
When Natasha pulls away, you’re breathless and she’s wearing such a soft, tender smile. “You sure you haven’t done that before?”
You huff out a laugh. “Didn’t think it would ever feel like that.”
“Is that a good thing?” Her free hand brushes your hair out of your face, tucking it gently behind your ear.
“Definitely wouldn’t complain about doing it again.”
Natasha laughs before pressing another kiss to your lips. “For the record, I’ve been in love with you for the past year.”
“Oh,” you blush. “Uh- sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” her smile turns wicked, a challenging spark in her gaze. “I just mean we have a lot of time to make up for.”
“Hang in there, kid,” Tony encourages as another wave of bullets rains down on your cover. Raiding the facility again meant bringing backup, and backup meant taking care of the bigger waves of idiots so that you, Tony and a few others could get a head-start. Unfortunately, you’d been cornered on the roof. You flinch at the booming voice calling from somewhere beyond.
“You had nothing until I found you! You were an orphan. Your parents didn’t even want you! I made you powerful,” there’s a blast as an explosive is thrown too close to where you’d hunkered down. “I gave you a gift,” he continues, and then there’s a brief silence. “And this is how you repay me?”
Your anger flares, sharp and sudden. You stand up from behind the vent as soon as you hear the telltale clicks of an empty barrel. Your fists are consumed by flames, and suddenly everything comes bubbling to the surface: your rage, your hurt, your anger, your loss.
“You made me a monster,” you snarl. “You stole me and you turned me into a monster.”
His smile is cruel, merciless. “You’re pathetic. You were always weak.”
With this, you finally snap and launch yourself at him. Your fire knocks him back several feet, and he cracks his knuckles, which are beginning to turn a strange red.
“You aren’t the only one with tricks up her sleeve, sweetheart,” the Serpent sneers as he sends a blast of fire at you.
You dodge it in time for it to not burn your uniform, and you quickly shake off your initial surprise before lunging at him again. It’s difficult fighting on the roof of the compound, but you quickly learn that every move he makes is one that he had taught you himself.
He had always told you to let your rage consume you. To let yourself succumb to it, let it strengthen you. It was always a toxic way of living, and you haven’t used that tactic in many battles as you know most of his goons are simply hired mercenaries, but you feel it now. Like a drug you’ve long since quit, the high is immediate and intoxicatingly addictive.
He’s bigger, and he might be a little stronger, but you were his weapon. He made you to be more powerful than he was, and that was his biggest mistake.
Your fire seems brighter, and it isn’t long before one harsh wave of it gets him. You suppose he isn’t fireproof like you are, if his agonized wail as he clutches his burning arm is anything to go by.
Something cold pierces your shoulder from behind.
The pain of it doesn’t quite register at first, until another comes along. You turn to face the source.
Another one of the Serpent’s guard dogs. They came along when they were fifteen, and you always knew something wasn’t quite right about them. You can’t even recall their name, but the fury in their eyes is all too familiar.
You’re barely able to avoid the sudden wave of icicle spikes heading your way, a simple flash of fire just enough to melt them in time. With fire coming at you from your left, and ice from your right, you find yourself entirely in fight-or-flight mode.
Instinct takes over, anger fueling every action as you try to balance yourself between the two. You’re sweating, now, with the effort and it isn’t long before you’re starting to get sloppy. You almost want to ask Stark what’s taking him so fucking long, but you can barely think about your next move let alone call for backup.
Suddenly, ice appears under your feet. You scramble to catch yourself before a blast of fire sends you flying towards the ledge. With nothing there to stop you, you’re barely able to catch yourself before you go falling. You definitely haven’t tested how many floors you can fall from before, and you certainly aren’t going to start now.
Before you can register what’s happened, you hear someone yell as they fall over the ledge. Surprised, you look up to find Natasha going head-to-head with the Serpent.
Natasha. A blast of fire can do real damage to her.
Panicked, you scramble to your feet and slide over the ice to breathe fire out of your mouth at the Serpent. That’s something you recently learned to do (mostly because Peter wanted to know if you could) and that surprise is enough to send him dangerously close to the other edge of the roof.
Natasha advances quicker than you can, and you’re horrified when, just as she kicks him over, he grabs her by the ankle and drags her over the ledge with him.
You’re moving before you can even think it through. You can only think about Natasha falling and how you absolutely cannot let him take her from you. Not when he’s taken everything else.
You’re plummeting after them, a powerful wave of heat behind you as you catch up to Natasha, who had just kicked the shit out of the Serpent. Before you know it, she’s in your arms and you’re-
“You can fly?” Natasha exclaims breathlessly, and- yeah. Yeah you can.
There’s blue fire emanating around you, but it doesn’t seem to hurt the redhead.
“I guess I can,” you fly a little too quickly back to the roof, landing roughly but keeping your grip around the woman in your arms. “All it took was for you to fall for me,” you wink, and she giggles despite rolling her eyes.
“Or you were just waiting to use that line.”
“Kid, you still with us?” Tony’s voice over the comm makes you wince.
“Nat dropped in and pushed him off the roof. Also, I can fly now.” You respond quickly, looking at Natasha with wide eyes. “Is he…?”
Natasha nods slowly. “I… heard him hit the ground.” She pauses, one of her hands coming up to stroke your cheek lovingly. “Are you okay?”
You can’t resist kissing her, and you love the way she smiles against your lips.
“I’m always okay with you,” you answer.
“Please turn off the comm if you’re going full-homo.” Tony pipes in and both you and Natasha groan as he makes his landing.
You set Natasha down gently, though you keep an arm around her waist as one of her own stays around your shoulders.
“The others are on their way. All clear on our end,” Tony reveals his face, and he’s clearly had his fill of this fight. He’s sweating, a little out of breath. “So, is he dead?”
“Yeah,” Natasha confirms, her hand squeezing your shoulder lightly. “It’s finally over.”
“It’s never over,” you remind her, and she hums, leaning into you affectionately.
“At least with him, it is.”
In the aftermath of the battle, amidst the ash and dust, all you can think of is Natasha. Natasha, the woman you never expected to love but now care for so intensely, so damn much, you literally jumped off of a roof for her.
“I love you,” you tell her, nuzzling into her hair as Tony and the others join you.
“I love you, too,” Natasha responds, pressing a lasting kiss to your cheek. “So much.”
You’ve fallen for her in a lot of ways, and you doubt that you’ll ever stop falling any time soon.
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A/N: I finally did something, hope you like it! Again if you notice any mistakes, let me know! Enjoy
TW: few cursing words
kaz brekker x fem!reader
You were sitting on Kaz's lap, one of his hands was placed loosely on your waist and the second one was turning a kruge coin between his slim fingers. The brown-haired boy hadn't taken his gloves, saying he wouldn't need them. You'd looked at him with sparks of doubt in your eyes, thinking how this work could go down, just because he wouldn't take them.
"Are you sure, Kaz?" You'd asked, eying his bare hands, while he'd been dressing his coat. "This job is important, you said it yourself."
"I'm touched by your worries, y/n. However, I think you should keep this pretty nose of yours out of my business" he'd replied, passing you and opening the door behind your body. "Now, shall we?"
"You're unbearable, Brekker."
"That's what they say, love" he'd smirked.
You hadn't said a single word about his so-called business since then, the beautiful red dress was closely tugging to your body, making men and women to look twice into your direction. The cloth was long, you couldn't count how many times you stumbled because of this stupid thing. And because of your shoes. But you closed your mouth firmly, so Nina wouldn't feel bad, since she had helped you choosing the outfit.
You and Kaz were watching a guy, who apparently robbed Per Haskell, while both Inej and Jesper were close to the doors in case he wanted to escape. And to handle the other part of your plan.
Your eyes were focused on your cards, and sometimes you were lifting your vision to analyse faces of other men sited by the table. They were so sure they would win, little did they know, the croupier was from the Crow Club. You kept your face blank and unreadable. Your target had brown hair, and deep blue eyes, probably in his mid-30s. His eyes were focused on you, trying to read your expression. From time to time, Kaz's palm was tightening on your hip, you could feel the goose bumps on your arms and you were positive, the bastard could see them. He would be teasing you after because of this.
After a while, all men beside the table groaned when you won for the third time that evening, your smirk only grew wider, when you saw your target getting up and leaving the table. Your plan was working.
You simply got up, fixing your dress, Kaz after you. He stretched his hand for you to take it and you did. Leading you towards the exit, you two left the stuffy club and met the chilly night in Ketterdam. According to the plan, you should go after Inej and Jesper to check if they did what they had to, not like you didn't trust them. Kaz had to make sure everything was done.
You heard how he breathed out the air in his lungs, you took a peek at him and saw how pale he got. You wondered if he was that pale while you were playing. You looked down and noticed his shaking hands.
"For fuck's sake, Kaz." you gently took his arm, and lead him back to the Crow Club.
"I don't want to hear that." he groaned, the sweat on his forehead shone. You frowned, fastened your pace.
You huffed and didn't say another word. Seeing you were close to the club, you felt how Kaz was leaning on you, practically letting you carry him.
"No, no, no, Brekker. You're heavy, and there's no way I'm going to bring your ass upstairs," your neck was wet, and the dress wasn't the best to doing this kind of activities. "of course, you don't have your cane, when you're needing this."
He cursed at you and tried to stand steadier on his legs. You held him by his waist, his body tensed.
You entered the club, and as fast as you could went to his room. You helped him sit down on his mattress. Quickly you tried to remove his shirt, but he slapped your hands away, doing it by himself. You poured him a glass of water and handed it to the brunet.
You sat on the other side of his bed, looking at him.
"Thank you." you heard his raspy voice. "But if you say I told you so, I'm going to kick you out."
You chuckled, locking your eyes into his. “So, I can stay?"
His eyes lingered on your face for a few seconds. "Please."
"Fine, just let me change into something more comfortable." you said, getting up and heading to the door.
"You can borrow one of my shirts." his voice little, you stopped in your tracks, thinking you hallucinated.
"I still need pants, be right back. You should lay down." you exited his room and promptly went to your room, to grab a pair of black bottoms. You came back to his room and went to his closet. Kaz was lying on his bed, eyes closed and face still pale. You noticed he hadn't covered his hands. A quiet sigh came out of your mouth.
You tried to strip out of you dress, but the bodice of it was tightly tied on your back. You would kill Nina when you meet her next time.
"Kaz, can you please help me with this stupid dress?" your question came out muffled, probably because of closed door of the closet.
You heard his steps, they sounded heavily as he came closer to you, you felt his fingers untying the strings. With every second, even though the corset was getting looser, you still were feeling your breath hitched in your throat. Kaz's hands were gentle when he unclasped the last one of the buttons on your corset, you had to keep your hands on the front of the bodice, in case to don't show too much.
You turned around, meeting with boy's chest. First two buttons of his shirt where unhooked. You looked into his eyes and the fire in them was mirroring yours. You felt his hand on your chin, gently lifting it up, Kaz pulled up and you slowly leaned even closer.
You felt his lips on yours, first lightly but when you responded to him, the kiss got heated. You still held your dress close to your body, not sure if you should let it go and touch him or wait until he does the next step.
You felt his bare hands first on the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him. You let go of your dress, placing your palms in his hair, you waited for him to tense but nothing happened. Your bodies were so close, that dress was still in its place.
"What the fuck?" you stopped kissing and both of you looked at the direction from where the voice came from. "I thought you died when you didn't show up on the bridge, I was running here!" Jesper exclaimed, his face slightly red, guns in his hands. "Only to see you are making out in the closet?!"
You laughed, taking your hands of Kaz's neck, if you had looked at him, you would've seen how he tried to stay calm. He slowly turned around, eying Jesper.
"Get out." his voice even more raspy than usual. "Or it was your last run in your life."
Jesper huffed, hiding his guns into his gun-belt. "I won a bet, by the way. Nina won't be pleased."
"Fine, fine." black skinned boy closed the door after him with a small thud. You used the time when he wasn't looking into your direction and dressed up one of his black shirts, buttoning up.
"You're unbearable" you said with a small chuckle. He turned around and look at you, looking you up and down.
"So, I heard" he smirked, doing up the last button, closest to your neck. He placed his hand on the place when he could feel your pulse. "You were running too? Your pulse is pretty high." he left, feeling of his hand still on your skin.
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𝖗𝖔𝖈𝖐 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖇𝖔𝖆𝖙 || pirate!Jefferson x reader
summary: Captain Jefferson is feared by every would-be sailor, every tradesman of the British isles, even his fellow pirates; yet, he's oddly gentle with you... for now.
word count: 4.2k
warnings: smut (dub con, this is a dark fic! mostly soft dark tho!), unwanted creampie, verrryy slight breeding kink, implied/threatened noncon, unwanted touching, lots of praise, mentions of the plague (but this time it's not the current one), pregnancy mention, alcohol consumption, religion mention, use of a knife (not quite knife kink but not violence either), slight yandere vibes
Perhaps if you had woken up sooner, earlier in the siege of your ship by the pirates, you would’ve had more time to flee and make it to one of the lifeboats. If you hadn’t been so exhausted from a long day beforehand, you would’ve surely roused from sleep at the first signs of trouble. If you had thought to put on boots and not tried to run from your room barefoot, you might have made it further before the invading crew had taken over.
Then again, this all could’ve been avoided if your fiancé had helped you onto the lifeboat instead of leaving you behind to die. Useless fucking bastard. Now here you were in the hands of your ‘saviors’ who pulled you from the flaming wreckage of the ship they themselves had destroyed. Their intentions were anything but altruistic, though; you weren’t a survivor, exactly, but a captive. Survivors didn’t typically have their wrists tied in front of them.
“Pretty,” one of them growled as he ran a finger down your cheek; you turned away as best you could but you couldn’t do much with them holding your arms and circling in so close around you. Another finger pushed against your lips and probed your mouth, the salt of his skin easily the worst taste you’d even experienced.
“Got all her teeth, too,” he noted. “Must be rich.”
“Who gives a fuck if she’s rich?” yet another sneered, reaching to start pulling up your skirt as you tried to kick him away. “All that matters is she’s warm.”
“You know we have to bring her to the Captain,” someone behind you noted.
“Yeah, but can’t we have a little fun first?”
“No,” the voice answered back firmly, making all the men around you visibly deflate.
“Fine then,” said the man in front of you as he dropped your skirt, and you were relieved slightly just to know they had to leave you be for now. “You’d better be a good girl for the Captain, then,” he informed you through his rotted grin, “and maybe we’ll get reacquainted when he’s done with you.”
With that, though they didn’t seem too ecstatic about it, a few of the men in the crowd guided you across the ship, bringing you to a windowed door. at the stern of the ship. It was likely the first mate that knocked; you were too busy being restrained to do it yourself, and the other men were too busy restraining you.
“Come in,” a voice answered from the other side.
The door creaked a bit as it was opened, and you felt the need to recoil further when you saw the man in his chambers, staring you down coldly.
“We found her in the wreckage,” the first mate explained, “figured you would know what to do with her.”
“Oh, I know what to do with her,” he agreed flatly, and you heard a few snickers behind you. “Bring her here.”
You figured ‘bringing’ would involve more walking, but instead they essentially threw you into the room, laughing as you stumbled to the floor since you were unable to catch yourself with bound hands.
The door slammed shut behind you unceremoniously, and you were left to look up at your new, singular captor with watery eyes. He wasn’t nearly as repulsive as the rest of his crew, he was even… not bad looking, if you tried hard enough to see him that way. It helped that he was better dressed and groomed, though he still looked plenty erratic in his own peculiar way. At least you were indoors now, protected from the cold ocean breeze of the evening, and with someone whose gaze was a bit less ravenous than the others that had been on you so far.
He offered his hand to help you up, but you defiantly made your own way back onto your feet.
“A bit of an independent type, I see,” he noted with the slightest smirk. “You must really hate this, then.”
“Would anyone enjoy being captured by pirates?” you asked, voice a little too shaky to really sound properly indignant.
“Many prefer it to drowning in the Indian ocean,” he frowned tightly. “Some might even be thankful to those that show them mercy.”
You were about to ask what he considered mercy, but then he took a knife from a leather holster at his side, stepping closer and carefully slicing the ropes off of your sore wrists. “Th-thank you, sir,” you whispered, rubbing the tender skin, raw in a few places.
“Captain Jefferson,” he corrected instantly, voice tense even though his body language was still relaxed; nonchalant, even. “You’ve yet to enlighten me to your name, darling.”
For a moment you watched him twirl his knife around in his fingers and almost forgot your own name to answer him with. When you did stammer it out, he gave you a smile that lied just between friendly and predatory, white teeth sparkling in the dim light of his lanterns as he sheathed the blade at his waist.
“Lovely,” he cooed. “It suits you. That dress on the other hand,” he frowned slightly as he looked you up and down, “is atrocious.”
“It’s only a nightgown,” you defended, “and it was much nicer before it was torn and sullied by your men outside.”
“Well, I’m afraid it just won’t do,” he decided. “You see, I have a lovely dinner prepared this evening and I couldn’t allow you to dine with me in tattered rags.”
“You’ll feed me?” you realized aloud.
“If you choose to accept my hospitality,” he clarified, and the way he said it made your skin crawl; there were no friendly dinners with pirates, you knew that much.
“Your kindness is… appreciated,” you half-lied, “but I cannot accept. I’ll go to the brig.”
“No, you won't. You’ll be spending the night in my quarters. With me,” he added, making his intentions exceptionally clear.
“I most certainly will not!” you defended, incensed. His jaw tightened as he glared at you, just for a moment, before he turned calm and polite again.
“I could leave you to my crew,” he offered casually. “Forty-eight drunken sailors who haven’t seen a woman since we left port eight months ago... I imagine they would be considerably less kind with you.”
You swallowed, but the lump in your throat didn’t go down.
“So, get changed and join me for dinner,” he instructed. “There’s something you can wear in that closet over there,” he explained as he motioned to it, “and a screen you can change behind.”
It was an odd request, but frankly, you were in no position to refuse it. He walked to the other end of the expansive quarters to examine something on his desk, and you awkwardly made your way to the closet to acquire the garment before you ducked behind the screen.
You didn’t really feel comfortable changing at this point, and you didn’t really trust that he would give you privacy; you stalled for quite some time, just waiting for him to suddenly appear and try to catch you nude, but the moment never came, and you finally relented and began to undress.
Admittedly, it was nice to peel the wet, cold nightgown from your skin and slip into something warmer. The dress he’d provided was a burgundy silk pattern, much more flamboyant and revealing at the bust than anything you would wear in your spare time, but you still indulged in running your hands over the soft fabric and toying with the lace hem of your sleeves briefly. It was slightly old-fashioned and it made you wonder how he’d come upon a dress like this in the first place, let alone what compelled him to keep it.
You tried to tie the lace up the back but couldn’t quite get them all, bending your arms awkwardly to try to reach but sighing as you realized it was useless.
“Um… Captain?” you called out sheepishly.
“Yes?” he answered immediately, voice echoing from across the room.
“Could you help me with the bodice here?”
You didn’t really see him step behind you, but you heard him come closer and felt the warmth of his presence. He delicately brushed his fingers over the back of your neck, ostensibly to make sure your hair was out of the way, before taking the strings in his hands and lacing your dress the rest of the way, tightening it slightly. “Not too tight, is it?” he asked quietly.
“It’s fine, thank you,” you nodded as he tied them. You expected him to walk away but when you turned around he was still there, staring down at you with eyes that were darkened at yet sparkling in the candlelight. “Should I put on jewelry as well?” you asked nervously.
“No, this will do nicely,” he announced, his voice a little deeper than it had been before, his fingers reaching up to brush over your exposed clavicle. “You look beautiful.”
“Um, thank you,” you answered hesitantly, glancing away from his all-consuming gaze.
A heavy silence filled the space between you before he finally broke it with a smile. “The table’s set, you can take your seat,” he explained, stepping back and giving you room to walk to the dining table; it really was a fine meal, one you recognize as stolen from the kitchens of the ship you had been on before, the one that was rubble at the bottom of the sea now. “Is it to your liking?” he prompted, making you realize you were forgetting to mind your manners. It was probably best to stay on the good side of such a dangerous and unpredictable man.
“It looks delicious, thank you,” you rushed as he pulled your chair out for you, and you flattened your skirts to take your seat.
And it wasn’t a lie; around the candelabra was an array of meats, cheeses, and fruits, even some small tarts presumably for dessert. Any other circumstance and you would feel comfortable digging right in.
He didn’t sit across from you right away, moving instead to a liquor cabinet which he knelt before. “I have red wine, aaaand some mead,” he offered as he searched through bottles, picking two to show you. “Or are you a moonshine sort of girl?” he asked with a wink.
“I’ll just take the wine, thank you,” you mumbled. He nodded and poured you a goblet, unsubtly eyeing your cleavage from his new vantage point. You motioned that he’d given you enough, leaving him to pour his own drink and cork the bottle again before taking his seat.
“I hope you don’t mind if I pray before the meal,” he interjected suddenly, “I’m a devout Catholic.”
“Oh, go ahead,” you nodded.
He chuckled slightly, making you feel foolish. “I’m joking, obviously. I’m a pirate.”
“I didn’t want to make any assumptions,” you mumbled. “I’ve heard pirates are superstitious, after all.”
“So religion is superstition?” he mused, lifting his goblet to take a drink.
“That’s… not exactly what I meant,” you compromised as you shifted in your seat.
He just looked at you, seeming to relish in your discomfort, as he began to eat from his plate, still staring at you. "You're not eating," he finally noticed.
"I suppose I've lost my appetite," you weakly explained, pushing a grape across the plate with your fork.
"Is it me? Do I… repulse you?"
You couldn't determine if the question came from insecurity or was some sort of trick. "Um… no," you answered. "But it is the circumstances you've put me in."
"I really mean no harm. It's been many years since I've had a chance to enjoy the company of a beautiful woman for dinner, that's all."
"But I'm spending the night here?" you remembered.
"Yes," he agreed.
No harm indeed, you thought to yourself as you nearly rolled your eyes. "You dishonor me," you protested. "My fiancé—"
"I think we both know he's dead," he interjected sternly.
"He made it to a lifeboat," you informed the Captain.
"Do you not hear the storm outside?" he scoffed, standing up to approach his window and throw open the curtain, revealing the heavy rainfall and lightning strikes on the water. "No lifeboat could withstand that."
Just as you hoped to find something to say to break the silence, something that would distract from his obvious and unfortunate truth, but he spoke again first.
"Say, shouldn't it have been the women and children first?" he realized with a furrowed brow, turning back from gazing out the window to examine you. "How did he make it on and you didn't?"
"There… there was only room for one more…"
"He took your spot," Jefferson realized, before suddenly bursting into laughter. You frowned and felt your eyes sting as you looked at the napkin in your lap. "And you say I dishonor you, when your betrothed left you to die so he could save himself!"
He walked closer, and you tried harder to fight your tears as he leaned in right in front of you.
"We really should thank him for his cowardice, shouldn't we? He's made you the only survivor of the wreck of the Princess Marianna," he grinned, and in a moment of weakness to your anger, you looked up and slapped him across the face.
"It wasn't a wreck, it was a siege," you corrected with shaking anger as the Captain rubbed his cheek, "and I'm not a survivor, I'm a prisoner!"
"Is this how you think prisoners are treated?" he snapped, grabbing your wrist tightly when you reached out again. "Dressed in silk, given fine wine?"
"Stolen wine," you grimaced, "and I assume the same for the dress?"
"No, the dress wasn't stolen. It belonged to the woman I loved before she died."
You straightened suddenly, stunned by his confession. You hadn't even considered that a pirate could really love. "I… I'm sorry."
"So forgive me if I can't muster much sympathy for your dead fiancé, it's just that I can't imagine claiming to love someone and choosing myself over them," he explained with ill-concealed contempt, looking away. "I'd have given my life to save her. But there are no lifeboats in a plague."
Your eyes that watered with rage before now brimmed with sympathy; the hand that reached up strike him before now delicately cradled his face, soothing where his cheek began to turn red. "My mother…" you trailed off. "The plague took her as well. It's cruel to see someone you love rot away."
He looked back at you again and you felt exposed to his stare, like he could see right through you.
It made a chill run up your spine, but it was oddly pleasant. He held out his hand for you to place yours in, guiding you to stand before him as he drank in the sight of you.
"You haven't had any wine," he realized softly. "Drink."
Hesitant but entranced by him, you grabbed the goblet from the table and took a sip. His hand gently tilted the bottom further, encouraging you to drink more, until you were gulping down the whole portion. As you finished, a drop fell down from the corner of your lips; his thumb wiped it away, and he brought the digit to his mouth as he sucked off the flavor from his own skin.
You didn't even mean to watch him dart his tongue out and lap up the liquid, but it made your thighs clench of their own volition. "Sweet," he whispered, and you forgot he was talking about the wine.
He took the goblet from your hand and set it down, turning his attention back to you as he ran his fingers over your shoulder, gentle enough to make little goosebumps prickle your skin all over. His gaze trailed over your face in the same pattern that his fingers did, his delicate touch making you shiver as he caressed your cheek, your jaw, your lips and finally your chin which he lifted slightly.
“Kiss me,” he requested softly.
More willing than you expected or were willing to admit, you leaned in closer to him and pressed your lips to his, chaste at first before he started to pull you closer and move his lips with yours. It was him that traced the shape of your mouth with his tongue before sliding it between your teeth, breathing heavier through his nose and wrapping his arms around you tighter.
You found yourself being pushed back, guided to his Captain’s desk, which he lifted you just enough to set you on. Without breaking the kiss— though it did become much hungrier and more intense— he roughly hiked the skirts of the borrowed dress up your legs, grabbing you tightly as he held you by your thighs.
Perhaps you could blame it on the alcohol, but you weren't even really feeling it yet and you were melting into his touch, moaning softly against his lips. Just when you were beginning to really like his fingers rubbing circles on your inner thighs, he removed his hands from your skirts. Instead his hands fumbled at your back to loosen the very same lacing he had helped you to tie before, releasing you from the dress just enough that he could tear the front down to expose your breasts, which he instantly reached up to grope in the palm of his hand while you both sighed a little at the feeling.
"Beautiful," he sighed as he started to kiss his way to your ear, biting gently around it. "So beautiful…"
You were devoid of words or even thoughts, operating only on primal instinct as you shuddered and fumbled with his coat and vest, hoping to see more of him in return. He smiled against your skin, apparently pitying you enough to lean back and help remove his layers of clothing. When you pulled his scarf away, you gasped at the sight of a scar that encircled his entire neck.
"How did you—?" you began to ask with a concerned whisper.
"I was sentenced and hung for piracy," he explained quickly. "It didn't take."
He kissed you again as he kept stripping with your rushed assistance; you didn't get it all off, just enough to leave him in a loose-fitting undergarment that revealed his scarred, masculine chest which moved with every deep breath he took.
Your fingers trailed down the expanse of skin, your breath a little heavier as you found the belt of his trousers. He grinned and opened it himself with one hand, while the other moved under your skirts again, drifting higher and higher until he finally swiped a finger through your sex.
The feeling made you choke on nothing, and he did it again, gathering and encouraging your arousal. You never got a look at his member, your clothes blocking you from seeing anything useful, but you could feel the shape of it pressing into your thigh.
You didn't know enough about what to expect to be sure that it was particularly large… but you were intimidated either way.
His forehead rested on your shoulder as he guided the thick, spongy head through your folds, seeking your entrance hastily. Even just that pushed your lips wide apart, your head getting dizzy as you realized he intended to put that inside of you. When he found it, just barely beginning to push forward, he straightened up to stare down into your eyes.
“Look at me,” he demanded. “Look at me when I take you.”
Blinking quickly, you did as you were told, looking up at him and feeling your gut sink and your heart twist at the idea of being stripped of your decency in such a way by this man. It was hard to believe it was really happening; it was hard to comprehend the way it titillated you.
All at once, he shot his hips forward and filled you, making you nearly scream though you managed to suppress it to a gasp. He watched you closely the whole time, giving only one moment of stillness to adjust before he began to pull back and start the cycle all over again, each movement stretching you wider than you had ever dared to imagine.
His expression was almost blank, almost unreadable, except for his eyes; they burned with enough passion to consume you in the flames, seeming not to blink as if he couldn’t miss even a moment of your pain and your pleasure.
Releasing you from his stare, he looked at your lips instead which he captured in another dominating kiss, one that trailed over your jaw as he began to really find his pace and increase the brutality of his body carving its space inside yours. More than anything, you focused on keeping your eyes shut and trying to distract yourself from it so wouldn’t audibly moan.
His tongue and lips laved your neck as he thrusted into you, the shadow of stubble on his face just enough to scratch your skin while his hands guided your legs to wrap around his hips. You would surely fall limp onto the desk if he didn’t cling onto you so tightly, strong and calloused hands clutching your back.
When he reached some very specific place inside you, a jolt of energy through your body shot your eyes wide open and your hands up to clutch at his shoulders. “Oh—!” you choked, gasping for air as he drove the head of his cock right into it again. He pulled away from your neck to smile down at you proudly, watching you moan and shiver at the overwhelming sensation.
“Didn’t know it could feel good, huh?” he taunted huskily. “Didn’t think you’d like it?”
He continued his assault on your neck, sure to leave a mark now, and it was all you could do to hang on for dear life as he slammed into you, the loud noises of his skin on yours filling the room.
Pressure built and built inside you, threatening to seize up at any moment. His speed kept increasing, kept pushing you to the edge faster and harder until you cried out, your nails digging into his shoulders as your body tightened and relaxed rhythmically.
“Oh god,” he moaned, right against your ear, “beautiful… you can’t imagine how wonderful it feels when you let go for me.”
He didn't slow down even slightly, keeping you suspended in pleasure with every desperate thrust into your pliant body.
"Do it again," he demanded darkly, but you were already spilling over the edge and sobbing at the onslaught of sensations filling you from the top of your head to the ends of your toes (which curled without you even realizing). He grunted as your walls gripped him with every wave of pleasure, his fingers digging into your supple flesh, sure to leave marks in the morning. "That's it," he purred, "give me everything."
You realized with dawning horror that his moans were getting louder and deeper but he showed no signs of stopping to finish outside. “Wait—”
“Fuck,” he hissed against your ear, holding you tighter as you started to squirm. “You’ll make me come.”
“Not inside,” you whimpered, swinging your arms to try to push him away, “you have to— please take it out—”
He growled and grabbed your wrists roughly, making you yelp a little. “You’re mine now. I’ll do with you what I please.”
“No, I can’t,” you whined.
“You can,” he promised through his teeth. “You can take all of it, beautiful… you can take every last drop of my seed inside you.”
You sobbed and struggled but ultimately as you felt his cock begin to flex against your channel and heard his panting breaths against your ear, you knew it was too late and he was spilling himself within you. He groaned and you let out one last weak whimper, going limp in his arms as you felt warmth begin to bloom from your core where he’d filled it.
The only grace he could’ve given you in that moment was just to leave you alone, toss you into the brig like you would’ve preferred in the first place, but he couldn’t even do that: he stayed inside you, holding your face and kissing you slowly while he caught his breath, mumbling praises you didn’t care to parse.
He carried you to his bed, undressing you from the gown until you were bare and had only his body to shield you from the draft in the room.
"I never told you something about my beloved," he whispered in your ear as he cradled your body under the blankets of his bed. "When she passed, she was with child. I lost both of them… and now you'll be filling their space and giving me what she couldn't, what I'm owed."
You blinked blankly through silent tears that streaked down your temples.
"Oh! And I never told you the name of this lovely vessel you'll be residing on," he realized with a breathless chuckle. "Welcome, darling, to the Devil's Fortune. I hope you enjoy it here… because I won't ever let you leave."
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¥ Pretty boy ¥
Rich! Izuku midoriya x F! Plus size! reader
Hi everyone!!! this is part of @bakugohoex‘s Collab, you should check the rest of the collab and her works out!!! enjoy!!
Izuku comes from a rich family, owns lavish cars and houses upon houses but all he really wants is you. You come from a humble background, refusing wealth but dealing when izuku wants to spoil you. Izu can literally fuck you anywhere because he is that rich; Nsfw, Fluff, public sex(kinda), smut(kinda? dom izu), reader is kinda a cheapskate.
Sorry it’s so bad; I may continue/ revise based on how this is taken!
“Oh, come on, Y/n! It’ll be so fun, I promise! it’s just one trip; you won’t feel like you did last time!” Memories of the past trip flash through the shapely woman's mind: paparazzi, lavish hotels(yes hotels, he wanted a different view every night), thousand dollar meals, designer boutiques, everything that you had avoided in your life as a pro hero was ironical, as it was all tackled at once.
You loved your boyfriend, and you admire his willingness to give, but this was the main reason you gave a lot of your earnings to health organizations and hotlines, you didn’t feel you needed the money, you were doing just fine without it, eating at home, carpooling to save on gas, helping out at your apartment to get a bit taken off of your rent. But Izuku was born into a life of wealth. Heir to the Yagi fortune, but despite his wealth, you wouldn’t know he was wealthy by simply meeting him.
“Oh, don’t patronize me izuku, you know I would hate that trip, I always hate overly expensive trips, I could get the same trip through my booking sites for half the price, and you know that!” You huff leaning over to fold your laundry. Izuku walks behind you, placing his large hands on your hips and leaning his head on your shoulder. You could feel his pleading look without even looking at him.
“Indulge me, baby. I promise I won’t make it too expensive,” You felt him kiss at your neck, making you sigh until he let out the final part of his argument, a simple,” Please?” You took his hands off your hips and walked away. Izuku sat defeated until he heard you rustle around, cursing as you made a mess of your once clean closet, and came back into the room with a defeated look and a suitcase. “How long are we going for?” Izuku smiled widely and spun you around, his eyes full of love.
----------------time skip to the day of the plans----------------
You gave yourself one last look in the mirror before sighing, regretting agreeing to this trip as you fix your sundress, admiring how the fabric hugs your soft curves perfectly. You knew this vacation would be perfect, that you would love it, but your stubborn mind wanted to fight the potential enjoyment.
Your mouth turned bitter as you internally fought with yourself, going from a fight of stubbornness to a battle against your self-confidence. Your mind picked on everything that wasn’t on your mind before as a deflect of being questioned. Your unpleasant thoughts were interrupted by a certain green-haired man as he walked into the room, stunned at how beautiful you looked in that dress. Distracted by the unmistakable twinkle in his eyes, your thoughts soon disappeared and were replaced with wonder.
“What’re you looking at?” He shook himself out of his trance to approach you with a smile. “Just looking at my beautiful baby girl in that dress, she so horribly fought me on. You look gorgeous, by the way.” His rough hands were felt through the sheer material of the outfit as his thumbs rubbed gentle circles on your wide hips.
You smiled softly and kissed his cheek, looking into his eyes. “Are you ready to go? Cause one more minute, and I may just back out of this.” His eyes go wide as he pulls away and rushes to get everything in the car. Your chuckles are short-lived as he soon comes back and picks you up. “You’re the last thing I need so we can go” you squeak as you remember this man can lift nearly 300 pounds. Why shouldn’t he lift you? Still, every time he lifts you, it comes as a surprise.
He quickly sets you into the car, alarming you with the fact that the driver isn’t any driver at all, it’s one of his close friends, todoroki, and this isn’t even your car; it’s his. “I figured we didn’t need to use the driver and waste money on parking, todo’s gonna drop us off, and I’ll have the driver pick us up after!” Your eyes watered, you knew that the rest of the trip would be extravagant but it was these little things that made you fall in love with him, over and over again. You sat with your hand in his all the way to the airport. You were excited to see new places but dreading the paparazzi.
You stood out of the car, taking in the cool breeze and walking around the car to get to the bags in the back. You bring both of your bags out, along with your carry-ons, and wait for him to finish his conversation with his friend to come to collect his bags. You hear izuku bid him farewell and thank him for the ride before he slips a 20 for gas in his friend’s car and walks to you. “Now don’t be mad...” His eyes shift when he bows his head, preparing to be lectured,” I got first class, and I know you don’t-” You laughed, only calming to rub his shoulder with a smile. “It’s ok! I’ll let it pass.... for now. Now, let’s get our free drink on!”
You’re the first to board, ignoring the dirty looks from the other passengers; you made a vow to enjoy this time.... for izuku’s sake. Your smile didn’t falter, even when the check-in lady gave you a surprising look when you gave her the ticket. You walked onto the plane with confidence; izuku could only say that you looked as if you were born for this… that you belonged here. Your Seats were opened to each other, making a two-bedroom cabin area.
You let izuku walk past you to put your bags to the side and look at the menu. One thing you could never understand is his appetite, he eats more than a group of teenage boys, and he still keeps fit, even if he doesn’t work out. You never found that fair. You shook your head out of the thoughts and sat next to him, searching the tv for a decent channel. You shut off the tv when you saw the news about a new villain, suddenly stressing about the city and what’ll happen if you leave. Your mind flooded with thoughts of the places you love on fire, the people you loved killed and showed as a warning to all the other heroes.
Luckily Deku, who had just finished ordering pretty much the whole menu, sensed your sudden situation and reached over you, pulling the leaver to set your seat back. The sudden movement knocked you out of your daze, causing you to look at the man perched above you with a frustrated look on his face. “You have just been a whirlwind of emotions today, haven’t you? You refuse to calm down; the city will be fine, it’s only a week, and we’re not even going that far!” “but-” “No buts! You don’t want to make me sad, do you?” You sigh, realizing that it was highly improbable for that to happen while you were gone, but that didn’t stop you from worrying. Despite that, you sucked it up, deciding that you might as well enjoy these trips before something happens, after all hero business is very dangerous.
“No Izuku, i don’t” He tilts your chin in order for your eyes to reach his. “Izuku? Really? You know that’s not what i want to hear princess.” You suddenly realize the shift of atmosphere, Izuku’s eyes darkened. “No daddy.” “Good girl.”
He lets his hand drag to the bottom of your dress, pushing up the tinted fabric as he moves his hand to rest on your thigh. Your thighs clench unintentionally when he reaches for the top of your underwear, flinching when he snaps the fabric back onto your skin.
You weren’t used to your soft lover taking the lead, you were the one who took control. You usually calmed your own nerves, with him of course. But you couldn’t think, you couldn't take control, you just had to let him help you, clear your mind and calm you.
You couldn’t help but shiver at the look in his eyes when he’s in control. His eyes darkening,a small glimmer in his eyes is still present but he looks….. Animalistic. You slide your underwear off of your plush form, confidently as he watches you with a ever-growing tent in his pants.
Izuku reached out to your body, holding your soft hip as he moves to slide his form between your thighs. “I don’t think i can be patient much longer beautiful, i may just fuck you like this.” He cups your cheek and uses his thumb to play with your lip, testing how far he can go before sticking his finger in your mouth. You obediently suck on it, watching him bite his lip and shift away to get undressed. “Who says i don’t want you to?”
He quickly takes off his shirt, his scars and freckles littering his tan skin. Izuku's pants are soon to follow allowing his cock to tap his stomach. You always loved how easy it was to get him to get hard, he was always ready for you to fuck him, ready to make love at the mere thought of your full, soft form.
You heard izuku whisper a quick ‘fuck it’ before he grabbed your thighs, wrapping them around his hips and grinding softly onto your soft cunt. Your soft moans fueled the burning fire of his. He grabbed his shaft, lining himself up with your weeping hole. He kissed you deeply before pushing into you, his lips muffling your sweet moans.
His cock throbs as he patiently waits for you to adjust to his girth. Your hips ache, already feeling the pressure of your current activities take it’s toll on your body. Your minds begins to flood with need, processing just how close izuku is, how his muscles feel under your finger tips, how he reacts when you experiment with tightening your smooth walls around him. He waits for you to move, slightly wiggling your hips, before he gives into the feeling, whimpering and keeping a steady pace.
You feel his tip brush against your sweet spot with every thrust, unraveling quicker then you would have liked. Izuku’s blush reaches onto his chest as you moan into his ear, teasing him. He speeds up, ramming into your sweet spot, causing that knot in your stomach to tighten before he shifts to rub at your clit sloppily, letting out lewd noises and tipping you over the edge. Your body freezes, a shaking gasp falling from your lips as you arch your back and your walls flutter and tighten around izuku’s dick. He’s soon to follow, spilling his load over your soft stomach before slowly pulling out and flopping onto his bed besides you.
“That’s one great way to start a shitty trip.” You laugh looking over into his forest eyes. Izuku grabs your hand, kissing your palm and giving you a small smile. “Or just a wonderful way to start a potentially amazing trip. You promised you’d let me spoil you this time, so let me use my money to give you comfort. Ok?” You nod, adjusting your seat to be upright again, and lean over to the champagne. The view out the window is something of beauty as the clouds fold into each other and the sky casts a pink, soft hue onto the white canvas.
Izuku grabs himself a glass, leaning his seat all the way back and putting a complementary eye mask on.
“And besides, the more money we pay, the less people will care where we fuck each other.” He was born into this life, born for it. He was used to this and could be for the rest of his full life.
But izuku would do anything just to be by your side. That’s one thing he can’t pay for.
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one and done Part 3
A/N Hey guys so sorry for a late update but here we are!!!! The last part of the series! I really enjoyed writing this one and I hope you guys enjoyed as well! Let me know what you guys think please and also also also thank you for reading!🥰🥰🥰
Side note: I’ll come back and edit my brain hurts
Harry is engaged and having a baby but Y/N is just his best friend’s little sister.
Today’s warning: We are anticipating some heavy smut in this last part. Please prepare for a spitting, spanking, choking, and hair pulling kink, Male receives oral, unprotected sex and just shit like that y’know? I think there is begging in here too LOL OMG they almost had sex outside again but that’s just so inappropriate but yeah... I think that’s all. Oh yes, Y/N rides and just loves being a horny mess hehehe
Word Count: 11k // Masterlist // one and done PLAYLIST / Part 1 / Part 2
If there was one thing Y/N was excited about… it was her last summer of high school. As she reflected on her junior year, she was happy Harry and her were finally in a place where she could just reach out to him and be comfortable. Although they didn’t have labels, it was the last thing on their minds as they spent most of their free time together away from Ryan and any other nosy classmate of theirs. Harry also spoke about long roadtrips. Despite him staying home for college, he was excited to drive his girl to different campuses and check out new destination sites around the many different cities.
They were optimistic they would stay together in the summer yet here they are spending it apart.
Y/N was in her bedroom sitting on the floor wearing Harry’s sweater as she was staring at the pile of scattered clothes on the floor. It was July 6th and even after a month of grieving for her broken heart, she managed to still wear her ex’s sweater… only because it was the sole object that made her feel like what they had was real.
They were so on and off throughout the year and the one time they managed to stick together, it was all washed away. Too many signs telling them they were not meant to be.
But that’s the truth. Y/N thinks to herself as she wipes away a new coming tear falling down her face. Harry and her are not the cliché plot of dating your brother’s best friend. Their relationship was based on lust and ended with unrequited feelings. They are not soulmates. Y/N rests her head against the back of her bed. No matter how much you try to fight it, if you are not meant to be… that’s it.
“Are you okay?” Ryan stops by her doorway with a plate of late dinner. He was also blatantly oblivious to the fact his little sister was wearing a sweater of his best friend’s.
“Yeah, why do you ask?” She stares at him with an unamused expression on her face. Her room was a mess, her head was in places where it shouldn’t be and her heart just felt broken.
“You’ve been in a pissed off mood since last month.” he genuinely states as he walks into his little sister’s room. Maybe before he wouldn’t bother to ask Y/N how she was but the truth is, he is leaving soon and he’s a bit worried with the way Y/N has been taking care of herself.
“Is it that obvious?” Y/N sarcastically laughs as she throws some clothes away for Ryan to sit on her bed. He places his plate on her desk and takes her offer as he looks around the floor.
“You haven’t left the house nor have I seen Ness around.”
“I haven’t really been speaking to her.”
“Oh so you guys fought?”
“No, we didn’t. I just haven’t really been feeling social.”
“Y/N, you know you can talk to me right?”
“I know.” Y/N bites the inside of her cheek knowing full well that she’s lying.
“Will you be coming to the party tomorrow night?” Oh, that’s right. It’s Harry and Carla’s engagement party.
“That’s why I’m cleaning out my closet.” Ryan laughs a bit as he stands up and pats her head.
“You don’t have to impress anyone. You’re not the one getting married.” Y/N feels her throat tighten a bit as she watches him leave her room with his plate. She lets out a sigh before rubbing her face in frustration. If she had the choice, she wouldn’t go but that would also show Harry that she cares more than he thinks. It’s been a month and she had to prove that she was over him and over the deal.
After a couple hours of sulking on her bedroom floor, she finally stands up and takes off his sweater. In the corner of her room is a cardboard box of clothes that were to be packed away and stored in the attic. Without hesitation, she throws the piece of clothing and carries on with her night.
“Y/N, you look beautiful sweetheart.” Her mom waits for her at the bottom of the stairs. The sun was just about to set and it was also time for their family to drive to Carla’s home for the party everyone has been anticipating.
“Thank you.” Y/N musters a smile as she glances at herself in the mirror one more time before heading out to the car. Her mom was honestly surprised her daughter was all dressed up for the party tonight, there was something off about her but today, it felt like she had a piece of her daughter back again. Saying nothing out loud, she locks the front door and walks with the young girl towards the vehicle.
Truth be told last night before Y/N fell asleep, she knew today would be her biggest performance. All she knew is that she couldn’t wait for this day to end so she can go back and hide in her room.
“Hey mate.” Harry smirks as he offers a hug to Ryan. The party had just begun and Harry waited outside the house to wait for his best man to arrive. He was shitting his pants at the moment and the only thing that would make him feel a bit more comfortable at his own party is if Ryan was by his side -like the usual.
“I can’t believe you’re getting married, Haz.” Ryan tries to hide his disappointment in front of his family. Y/N and her parents stood behind him waiting for the duo to greet each other first. “I thought we would enjoy our bachelor era a bit you know… longer.” Harry tries to laugh as he makes eye contact with the pretty girl. Once the two pull away, he awkwardly laughs and greets Ryan’s parents.
“Carla is it for me man.” Harry tucks his hands inside the pockets of his trousers. “We’ve been together since grade school, I guess it’s time I tie her down to me forever.” Y/N’s mom laughs and pats his shoulder. The five began to walk to the backyard as she spoke up.
“Forget Ryan, I think you two make a lovely couple and are honest soulmates.” Harry glances at her and flashes a small smile. He thought having Ryan here would make him feel more comfortable but there was only one thought that was processing in his head as they walked the stoned pathway.
This engagement made him feel ten thousand times much worse knowing his in-law family wouldn’t be Ryan’s because the truth is there wouldn’t be anything much better than to have Y/N and Ryan’s parents as his too.
“Hi.” Carla approaches them with a warm smile on her face. The nude slim dress was impressive on her, especially as it made the diamond on her finger stand out more. She casually wraps her arm around Harry's waist as she takes a sip of the mango smoothie in her other hand. Although the smile on her face seemed genuine, Y/N wanted nothing more than to punch the girl’s face. If Harry was a jealous asshole, Y/N was much worse. Keep it together Y/N, please you don’t care. You don’t care.
That was the whole idea for the night anyway. Y/N has barely spoken a word since her father parked the car on the side of the road. She was even the last one to exit the vehicle because in all honesty, she didn’t want to unbuckle her seatbelt. Now, She stands beside her dad once again, shying away from the hosts of the party. Although her mom made her feel beautiful today, there was nothing more than to stand in front of the prettiest girl who has constantly been chosen over her.
“Thank you guys for coming. I’m so happy to meet you all.” Carla smiles as she turns her attention on Harry. She was happy and excited about their future. This whole night felt like a fever dream. Once more she looks at Ryan’s family and speaks up. “There’s a table for your family and dinner will be served out soon. I hope you guys enjoy” She rests her head on her fiancé but notices Y/N staring at her heels. “Are you okay Y/N? You seem a bit off.” And that statement was coming from a concerned person who was genuinely curious if the acquainted junior she got to know this year was alright. Y/N gulps as she makes eye contact with Carla. She was also very careful not to look at Harry.
“Ignore her. She’s been like that for a couple of weeks.” Ryan laughs as he turns around and glances at his sister. “This is your night but I still am wondering why you guys are getting married next month.”
Carla awkwardly smiles and waits for Harry to respond first yet she notices his eyes stay focused on his best friend’s little sister. “We just thought we should get the wedding out of the way before university starts.” Carla squeezes his palm for him to reply to.
“Don’t worry Ryan. I’m sure we’ll do everything we planned to do.” Harry smirks as he turns his back around to the music that just started to play. “Let’s walk you guys to your table, I believe the party is just about to actually begin.”
Throughout the night, Y/N did nothing more than fake a smile and applaud as speakers came to the mic and talked about Carla and Harry’s relationship. Blah blah blah. It was the same old thing really, and if she had the choice deep inside, she would wish she was the one sitting beside Harry talking about other things.
Dessert was finally available and due to the lack of activities and entertainment this party has brought to her, she waited until the line died down before she could carry her plate towards the table. She internally sighed as some of the choices were gone, leaving her to pick up a red velvet cupcake and two french macaroons on the side. Once she arrived back to her seat, her family that stayed back continued to talk about the two lovebirds. Her father and Ryan seemed to be having an amusing conversation as her mother made a new friend from the table beside them. Compliments after compliments was the only topic tonight, she really needed to take a walk around the unfamiliar neighbourhood after this.
“Guys, I’m just going inside to use the bathroom.” Her mom nods and acknowledges Y/N’s statement before turning her back once more to talk to another attendee of the party. Grabbing her purse, she excuses herself from the table and shyly walks around the party and towards the sliding door. Once she’s inside the home however, she ignores all the signs that gesture her towards the bathroom and instead makes her way to the front door. Carla’s home was pretty but not enough for her to stay.
“That’s not the washroom.” Harry speaks out as he walks down the staircase re-adjusting the sleeves of his polo. She realized the navy blue blazer he was wearing earlier today was now resting on the ottoman by the end of the railing.
“I was actually going to go on a walk.” She fixes her gaze on the painting in front of her instead of the boy casually making his way down.
“It’s a bit late, d-don’t you think.” He scratches his nose and picks up the article of clothing on the chair. He couldn’t help but stutter as his eyes followed the pink dress on the pretty girl.
“The neighbourhood seems really nice and I’m sure none of the rich families here are going to kidnap me and lock me in their basement.”
“Here.” She notices him walk towards her offering his blazer. “I would invite myself to walk with you but uh I think people would notice.” He rubs his palm against his neck and looks back at the door where the party is.
“It’s okay.” She shakes her head as she rejects his considerate offer. She continues to unlock the door before looking back at him. “I’ll be back soon. Ryan and my parents think I’m in the washroom. So if they ask, just say you don’t know. Congratulations, by the way.” She gives him a sad smile and walks out the door. He’s left speechless as he finally realizes this might be the last time things will be normal between them. “Fuck it.” He murmurs to himself as he rests the blazer behind his back and walks out the front door as well.
“Why are you following me?’ Y/N turns around carefully as she crosses her arms over her chest to keep herself warm. She was also trying very hard not to fall. Harry’s been distracting her all night, she didn’t realize she was wearing heels despite her goal to go on a night walk.
“Because I can’t let you walk around this neighbourhood by yourself!” Harry raises his voice as he tries to catch up with her. “God, I told you, you would need this.” He thoughtlessly puts the blazers over her shoulders as they walk down the slope.
“I promise you, I am not your responsibility anymore. You don’t have to be concerned about my whereabouts.” Y/N murmurs as she accepts the fabric and hugs it around her frame. Harry couldn’t help but look away from her as he heard that statement. Before everything went crumbling down, he used to pick her up and know every update from her. He used to watch out for her and just be there for her but even now, it was no longer okay.
“Who’s going to watch over you when I’m gone.” His voice is a bit more quieter now as they exit Carla’s neighbourhood.
“I don’t know. I always expected you were going to stay.” She glances at him before walking ahead of him.
“I know you’re mad and I’m sorry I had to put you through a lot.” He pulls her wrist to make her stop walking.
“How can I not be mad, Harry?” She closes her eyes, trying to not let the new formed tears in her eyes show. “You constantly choose Carla and the moment you finally break up with her. I get you and then you what… ghost me, break up with me? I don’t hear from you for 2 months only to find out you’re engaged! Fuck you.” She quickly wipes away a tear from her face. “God, I- You cheated on me! Didn’t you?”
“Y/N.” His heart beat drops as her voice raises. Never in his life has he seen Y/N this upset.
“No. It makes sense. Carla is barely even showing yet. It’s been three months and you…” She steps away from him and looks around. “I don’t know -you didn’t even have the audacity to tell me you don’t like me anymore.”
“I didn’t know how to react when you told me that.”
“Well you did.. You ignored my calls and continued to see Ryan.” She shrugs her shoulders and sarcastically laughs. “It’s fine. Now that I think about it, maybe I said it in the heat of the moment.”
“I know I messed up.” He bites his lip and runs his hand through his hair. “I don’t know why I reacted like that. Carla has always been so familiar to me… and with you, I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before.”
“Like what?” The monotone question rolls off the tip of her tongue.
“The fear I guess. I’m scared of losing Ryan, your family and um, you.” He clears his throat. “It’s just there’s so much on the line when it comes to you and me. Maybe if I tried harder, we wouldn’t be here right now but we are.”
“Well if it makes you feel better,” She takes a pause and stares directly at him. “I didn’t really mean what I said that day. You freaked out on something that was a typical post orgasm statement.” She lies.
“Why are you lying?” He shakes his head in disappointment. “Why are you trying to hurt me? You think this hasn’t been difficult enough.”
“No, I’m not lying. It’s true.” She attempts to walk again but his hand grabs her immediately letting her know, their conversation is not over.
“So you’re saying you don’t love me.”
“No, I don’t love you.”
“Harry, I don’t even owe you an explanation!” and sometimes when you force yourself to lie too much, you begin to cry. “Fuck.” He immediately hugs her as she cries on his shoulder. “I don’t think we should do this.”
“I could never leave you alone, you know that right?” He whispers in her ear as he wraps his arms tighter around her frame.
“You have to. We can’t do this.” Y/N repeats herself as she tries to pull away. His scent is just so fucking intoxicating. It was his scent that made her drastically attached to him and now she knew like from the start, it was time to go.
“If my wishes came true, it would’ve been you.” He tries to keep her in his embrace. He was rambling at this point but he had no idea what his goal was. Is he trying to persuade her to stay or to let her go?
“You made your choices, Harry. All you have to do is lie in it.” She pulls away and wipes away her tears. “We’re just these high schoolers that found a loophole in our deal. Carla though, she has always been the one for you.”
“You’re right though. I- I guess I always choose her in the end.”
“Make her happy H.” She gives a sad smile and shrugs her shoulders. Despite wanting to punch her face, Y/N knew the look in her eyes as she watched Harry. Carla was always madly in love with him and forever will be.
Harry and Y/N were just a glitch in the system.
“I hope I see you again. Maybe Christmas huh?” He looks down at his shoes as the girl gives him back his blazer.
“Maybe Christmas.” And without a word, Y/N walks back to the house leaving Harry to walk around the neighbourhood himself.
Harry and Carla had just gotten married and on the night of their reception, they announced their pregnancy. Y/N was there. She witnessed the smile on Ryan’s face, on her parents’ face and on Harry’s. Everyone was happy except for her.
The night left her to play with the food on her plate as it was her only source of entertainment. Broccoli grouped with the carrots suddenly being grouped with the steak. How about we make a snowman? To be honest, moping a bit too much at the event left her clueless to the fact the groom has been watching her all night.
It wasn’t a choice for him. Of course, he looked at other guests and spoke to Carla throughout the night but for some reason as he mindlessly ate his food and restated his vows to his wife, Y/N was the only thing his eyes could focus on. He’s been looking for her face in every room for a year and to be exact, nothing about his feelings has changed -Except tonight was the last day, he would ever feel like this again.
There were only three rules Harry gave himself tonight.
Rule 1: Don’t try and make conversation with Y/N.
Rule 2: Don’t beat the guy who offers her a dance.
Last but not least, Rule 3: Don’t tell her you love her.
And it was a success because he watched her walk out with an unfamiliar guy and come back with a flushed neck and red cheeks. He knew she totally got fucked in the washroom and all he did was take a sip of his glass as the fist on his lap began to form once again.
It’s been a week since and her whole house is a mess. She has been currently helping her brother move his things to the moving truck they rented. Her little grieving process was cut short due to the fact, things around her started to change so quickly. Ryan was on his way out of here. Harry and Carla were probably on an island, trying to make another sub baby and Ness started to come by more often.
The thing about her best friend is that Nessa understands space but she won’t let Y/N peacefully sulk for more than a month. To successfully distract her, the duo have been taking road trips around the cities and visiting different campuses together. Although it was an old plan of her and Harry’s, Y/N couldn’t help but feel delighted to have Ness back once again.
She cleaned out her room and removed all her old soccer trophies because for some odd reason, they reminded her of Harry. She even went to the measures of blocking his number and deleting pictures from their past dates off her phone.
She knew she wasn’t ready to let him go but he was now married, living in a new city with his own family. There was no other choice but to forget this shit happened.
Senior year was just about to begin for Y/N and if there was one thing she needed, it was a fresh start. No love interests, no heartbreaks. Just fun experiences before she leaves this hell hole.
After all, if you never bleed, you’re never going to grow.
3 years later…
“You’re going to be fucking late.” Ness throws a pillow at her best friend as she enters the room. “You have that plane to catch.”
“Fuck, what time is it.” Y/N murmurs as she could feel some drool on her pillow case.
“Fuck!” She sits up immediately and grabs her phone. Her flight is leaving in an hour and God knows the traffic in Seattle. “Why didn’t you wake me up sooner!”
“Because your lazy ass wouldn’t wake up.” Ness walks out of the room and drinks her coffee. She was totally unfazed about her best friend panicking. “Relax.” Y/N gives her a death glare in return as she brushes her teeth in the kitchen. The two were very used to each other since they’ve not only been best friends for a long time but also roommates after moving to a new city.
“My brother’s wedding is in two days and I’m not even there yet.”
“Tell Ryan to choke for not inviting me, by the way.” Ness scrolls though the news feed on her phone as she casually bites into her bagel.
“Okay, I think I have everything.” Y/N walks out of her room in tights and an oversized sweater. “I really have to go.”
“You’re going to see him again, you know that right?” Ness really didn’t want to be the one to bring him up again but shit, Y/N looked like a dead zombie.
“It’s fine.” Y/N shrugs her shoulders. She couldn’t care less if she sees Harry again. “The last time I saw him, Carla and him were acting like total love birds at my mom and dad’s thanksgiving party.”
“That was like two years ago.” Ness tries to contain her laugh as she remembers their new pet names. Honey bunny and sweet treat. Oh to be in the honeymoon phase once again.
“Don’t think I forgot what you used to call Tom.” Y/N laughs as she rolls her luggage to the door.
“Shut up.” Nessa’s eyes widen as she throws a crumb at her. “That’s why I broke up with him.”
“Yeah, yeah. You better answer my call okay?”
“Yes babe, I know. I love you, take care!”
And after the long haul of successfully boarding the plane, Y/N had five hours before she could finally see Ryan and his soon to be bride in Boston.
She was definitely nervous. The last wedding she attended was Harry’s and she knew full well how she badly coped with that. Not to mention how she calculated her schedule so she could “accidently” miss Ryan’s engagement party. Truth is, she doesn’t care about Harry but if there was any way she could try and dodge another awkward encounter...that’s what living in another city is for.
He also wasn’t really an ex but just a person in her life who managed to make her happy and sad at the same time. James had no idea who he was since she believed it was best to make that portion of her adolescence a secret. Just buried along with the other dreams she used to have.
After watching two movies and playing a random phone game, the plane finally landed. Y/N managed to brush her teeth and make herself look a bit more presentable after a heated run out of her apartment. Once she was at the pick up centre to grab her luggage, her heart beat began to increase signaling that she failed to neutralize her anxiety. Beads of sweat began to form on her forehead as she walked past the crowd of people. There was a constant voice in her head screaming at her to tell Ryan her flight just got cancelled. Unfortunately, Ryan was on time as she could picture his figure right outside the window of the airport.
“Hey.” Ryan smiles as he gives his little sister a hug. He saw her a couple months ago but time still makes everything different. He’s happy his sister is finally here.
“Hi.” Y/N tucks a piece of hair behind her ear as the wind blows by them. “I see you got a nice haircut.”
“I did.” Ryan laughs as he carries his sister’s suitcase into his trunk.
“I can’t believe you’re getting married Ry! I swear to god, it was only yesterday you were complaining to Harry about his wedding.” Y/N squints her eyes due to the sun shining directly at her. She uses her hand to cover the side of her face as she lets out a joke,“Are you sure about her?”
“Meghan? Absolutely.” Ryan shuts the door as they stand there. “ I didn’t know what Haz was talking about when he told me he wanted to marry Carla but shit, when I met Meghan… I-”
“You’re whipped more than ever.” She smiles as she notices her brother’s cheeks flush. She tried to change the topic immediately after her brother said his name. “I knew Cassidy wasn’t the one.”
“Sure you did.” Ryan rolls his eyes as they sit in his car. “How about you? Any new updates?”
“No not really.” Y/N shrugs her shoulders as she puts on her seatbelt. “James and I have been together for a year now which is crazy-”
“I wish the guy could have come to the wedding, didn’t know how serious you guys were.”
“Honestly, if he didn’t have that internship at the hospital, I would’ve tried and persuaded him some more.”
“It’s okay.” Ryan laughs as he shakes his head. “Meghan found you a date already and I’m sure you’re going to be okay with it.” Y/N eyes widen.
“I was going to go stag.” She looks out the window in disbelief. It wasn’t her fault, her boyfriend was trying to get into medical school.
“Don’t worry sis. It’s a platonic date -that’s all it is going to be.” Ryan reassures her as he drives out of the parking lot.
“Let me tell James. Just in case, he might get jealous.” She pulls out her phone. “Who is this guy anyway?”
“I’m not telling you but who knows, James might fly over here just so you don’t go with a random guy.” Ryan smirks as he exits the highway.
“Who is he?”
“It’s a surprise.” Ryan tries to hide his laugh.
“Does he know you’re setting me up with him.”
“Please.” Her brother scoffs. “The guy is always too nice, he offered first.”
“Well, shit then.”
“You’ll get to know him before the wedding I promise. At least, you have company other than mom and dad.”
“So you’re going to let a random guy just sit at our table?”
“You have no idea.” And truth be told, Y/N wasn’t worried about the date Ryan and Meghan set up for her. Maybe it was one of Meghan’s family members who thought she was still single. It didn’t matter though because this event was for her brother and that’s all that was important.
“Oh my god!” Ryan and Y/N’s mother stood outside the house waiting at the driveway for them to arrive.
“Hi mom!” Y/N gives her a warm hug. “I missed you, where’s dad?”
“He’s inside with-”
“Y/N.” Y/N’s dad steps through the doorframe and meets Y/N at the steps for a hug as well. She knew her father couldn’t walk that much due to his recent hip surgery. What she didn't expect however, was for Harry to be following right behind him. “I missed you darling.”
“Hi dad I missed you more, I didn’t know Harry was here.” Y/N backs away and turns her back to look at Ryan. He didn’t seem surprised at all as he carried her luggage towards them.
“Hey.” Harry offers a small wave, seeming too quiet. He kept his hands behind his back as he observed the girl in front of him. It’s been two years and a lot has changed. Y/N thought he would still have his long hair yet it is very evident, he had a haircut as well. He also seemed much more muscular as well as the new addition of tattoos on his arm. While she stared at him, she didn’t realize Harry was noticing all the different features she had too. Her hair was longer and darker and she carried a different aura than before. She didn't look like the girl whose bedroom he used to sneak into.
“Hi Harry.” Y/N didn’t know how to start a conversation with him.
“I guess you met your date.” Ryan walks ahead of them and laughs as he continues to bring in the bags.
“Harry's my date?” Y/N asks in shock as she follows him behind. Her mom slaps her arm as Harry and their dad follow.
“Don’t act offended, You’ve known Harry since you were a kid.”
“Aren’t you married though.” Y/N turns her back and looks at Harry before facing the front again as she suddenly became distracted by the house’s decorations.
“I actually got divorced.” Harry bites his tongue right after.
“See, now look what you did. You embarrassed the young boy.” Y/N’s mom rubs his back as she murmurs to him. “I’m sorry, Haz.”
“Oh, it’s okay.” He shakes his head, trying to act as if the topic didn’t make him feel uncomfortable.
“I’m sorry too.” Y/N finally looks at him once more. “I had no idea.”
“It’s been a year. That’s what happens when you marry too young.” He laughed it off but everyone ignored that statement as they all knew there was a deeper cut in his heart.
When Carla was around 5 months, she had a miscarriage and although, they claimed they would try again… there was no new announcement after that.
“Y/N, this is your room.” Ryan tries to change the topic as he scratches his head.
“Thank you.” She steps inside for a bit of privacy after a long flight. Ryan and Harry along with her parents went back to the living room to go and continue their movie.
Today is Ryan’s wedding and the house was giving her many little flashbacks of Harry’s. The family was in this foreign home and was still running around getting ready. Her mother was screaming at her dad as he decided last minute to steam his suit. Ryan and Meghan were gone which left Harry and Y/N the only victims to her mother’s loudness. The two kept quiet as her mother ran around the house doing her hair and calling relatives for updates. Y/N managed to be ready on time so it let her sit on the couch looking at the photos in which mehgan has framed around the room.
“Your dad said I should drive you to the venue now. I think they’re definitely running late.” Harry speaks up after two days of ignoring her. The truth is last night when he went to the kitchen he saw Y/N sitting down on one of the counters and maybe if it was three years ago, he would’ve spoken to her but something about now told him to go back to his bedroom. He used to feel comfortable around her but now he’s walking around her as if he was on eggshells. He was so fucking nervous.
“Okay.” She agrees with him. Harry was the best man and she didn’t want him to be late because of her parents. Y/N puts her phone in the purse resting on her shoulder as she follows him out of the house. She would’ve been a bit more calm if she didn’t end her call with James midway through their fight.
“Um A-Are you okay?” He opens the door for her as he tries not to check her out. It was definitely difficult however as the way her long hair was styled and the pretty dress she wore. Luckily for Y/N, while Harry was doing some errands at home, she managed to “observe” him in his suit.
“Yeah, I’m good.” She lets out a small smile as she realizes Harry was still driving his car back from high school. You know the vehicle they had sex i-
“Alright.” The man breaks her out of the thought as he starts the car. “I promise tonight isn’t going to be weird around us.”
“Who said it was?”
“I don’t know I guess I just assumed.” He bites his cheek as he glances at her. That’s when the déjà vu hits and he feels like he’s eighteen years old again. She keeps her eyes on the road yet she had no idea that Harry was picturing her seventeen year old self sitting in the seat beside him. One of his favourite memories to be exact.
“So you’re kidnapping me to go camping in the woods.” Y/N smiles as she watches the unfamiliar road in front of them. Harry takes his shades off and passes it to the girl as he notices the sun is shining much more brighter than before.
“Hey, you got permission from your parents.” He smirks at her as he keeps his hand on the gear stick.
“They think I’m sleeping over at Nessa’s.” Y/N laughs as she puts on the shades and looks at him. His cheeks turn red as he catches the sight of the pretty girl wearing everything of his.
“Is little Y/N scared of the dark?” His hand smoothly travels to her thigh.
“I am not.” Y/N chokes on her breath. It was bad enough Harry looked so hot whilst he was driving.
“I think you are.” He notices her breathing becoming a bit more short. “You and me in a tent alone in the dark.” His hand goes a bit more south, gipping her inner thigh.
“I have a surprise for you.” She blurts out. She was also seconds close to making Harry pull over to the side of the road.
“And what is that?”
“I’ve been wearing a plug and I’m ready.” The speed of the car increases a bit as he mindlessly presses his foot to the sound of her voice. He looks at her one more time before taking over the car in front of them.
“Fuck then. My baby once again proves that she isn’t as innocent as I thought.”
End of flashback*
The venue was beautiful. Ryan and Meghan chose this beautiful garden that had tulips growing everywhere. The white gazebo was obviously where the wedding would take place as the reception was only a stoned pathway ahead. Since Harry was the best man and Y/N was his date, she managed to follow him around the place as he spoke to the event planner and the maid of honour. She had a whole tour of the location as Harry spoke about the party’s process to her. Not only that, but he was an amazing date -he kept his hand on her back and introduced her to people she didn’t know.
Currently, she was sitting on the bench watching Harry talk to some familiar faces. They seemed like a few boys Ryan and he would hang out with back in high school. She was mindlessly watching him laugh and smile throughout the conversation until she didn’t realize he was already staring at her. After excusing himself, he walked back towards her.
“I’m sorry, If I’m boring yeh.” Harry rubs his neck as he sits down beside her. The wedding was about to start in a couple of hours.
“No, you’re not.” Y/N laughs as she keeps her eyes on the lake behind him. She suddenly remembers their camping trip. She shakes her head at the thought and shrugs her shoulders. “How are you feeling?”
“About the wedding?” He pulls down the sleeves of his dark grey suit. She nods her head and waits for him to continue. “I’m happy Ryan is marrying Meghan. It’s funny how he thought he would stay single for long.”
“I remember him telling you that when you were engaged.” She bites the inside of her cheek. She definitely just put her foot in her mouth again. She was definitely known for that but Harry didn’t seem fazed at all about her statement.
“I mean don’t get me wrong, Weddings are a bit difficult to attend at the moment just because I know mine didn’t end well but um…” He clears his throat and faces himself more towards her. “I also got married knowing I wasn’t really in love with the girl.” Y/N finally looks at him as she watches the familiar green eyes say the truth.
“I know.” She nods her head again. “Things are different now and I hope you do find the girl that you are 100% about.”
“Yeah.” He looks at the patch of flowers in front of them. He would tell her what he thinks but he knows she’s dating someone.
“Let’s go check out your brother.” Harry stands up and offers his hand out. “I’m sure he’s wondering where we are.”
And so the event continued. Y/N’s parents arrived and so did the other guests. The beautiful girl in her wedding dress walked down the aisle and Harry couldn’t keep his eyes off the girl sitting in the crowd.
It was simple for him, he knows he’s not over her but he wouldn’t tell her that.
Would he tell her that he started coming home more after Carla’s miscarriage in hope of seeing her? No.
He definitely can’t tell her that he was hurt. He would come over to their house only to find out she wasn’t home or when he found out she was moving to Seattle for college.
After the past two years, Ryan briefly mentions her and James and he felt like he no longer had a chance. At least with her.
So standing beside Ryan as his best man felt like a total shot in the heart because Harry knew he wasted his time and lost the girl as well.
Y/N catches his eyes watching her and just for a moment, she wished things were different too.
When the reception started, Harry and Y/N along with her parents sat at one of the tables close to the bride and groom
The hosts were right however, as Harry fit perfectly with the family. Throughout dinner, he made jokes and started conversing with her parents more than she thought. Although he gave her some attention, he didn’t fail to compliment her mother as well.
The two sat together eating dessert as he leaned over to whisper something in her ear. “I’ll let you have a bite out of my brownie if I can steal a bite from your cake.” Harry smirks as he takes a sip of his glass of tequila. He wasn’t trying to get drunk but a little strong (strong) alcohol should cause no harm. Y/N casually steals the glass from his hand and takes a sip as well.
The two were finally much more comfortable with each other after spending the day side by side. Harry laughs as he takes his fork and steals a bite of her cake. The red velvet flavour melting in his mouth as he watches the girl swallow the rest of his drink.
“Sorry, I’m a bit quenched.” Y/N laughs as she puts the glass down and stabs her fork back into her cake. His fork immediately swats hers away.
“I’m not done with my bite.” He teases her as he pulls the small plate towards him. Y/N mouth drops.
“You guys fight like children.” Her dad speaks up and smiles at the scene in front of them.
“He asked to steal a bite but he stole the whole plate.” She laughs as she watches him shove numerous tiny bites in his mouth. Y/N mom laughs as she smiles at the cheeky boy.
“I said you can have some of my brownie but you proceed to finish my drink.”
“You seem a little drunk anyway.” She lies as she leans forward to take the brownie from his plate.
“Want some shots.” Harry blurts out as he finishes the dessert. “You finished my drink so I’m heading back to the bar… you still might be a bit quenched.”
“Okay.” She laughs as the two excuse themselves from the table.
“Do you remember the scrunchie on my wrist and you called me out on it.” Harry slowly dances with Y/N as the night continues on. The event was almost over but all the attendees were on the dance floor dancing to Kiss Me by Ed Sheeran. As a proper stellar date, Harry didn’t hesitate to ask the girl for a dance as he knew last time he missed out.
“I know you stole it.” Y/N laughs as she unconsciously rests her head on his shoulder. The truth is when in doubt, Y/N always drinks a bit more than usual. It seems whenever Harry is around, she can’t help but be drunk.
“Oh really?” He pulls away and laughs. “I was going to tell you an old story but you already know.” Y/N rolls her eyes as she looks at the people surrounding them. Nobody was shocked to see how close they were dancing. Everyone was in their own little bubble and maybe if Y/N and Harry didn’t break the ice or drink a bit, they would definitely not be as bold as they are right now.
“No! You have to tell me now.” Her eyes widen as she readjusts her hands on her shoulders. Harry smirked at her anticipation as he willingly rests his hands back on her waist.
“It was the first night we made the deal.” He whispers quietly hoping no one would hear them. “It was on your vanity and I took it after you sleepily threw my clothes at me.” They both laugh at the old memory.
“I saw you wearing it during the game.”
“So did you always watch me back then? Probably just wanted to get into my pants.” Y/N cheeks flush as she hides her face away from him.
“You’re acting as if I never caught you staring right back at me.”
“True.” he twirls her around. “Couldn’t keep my eyes off you after that deal you offered.” Y/N immediately pulls away after he hears the statement roll of his tongue.
“Harry, I know tonight has probably been the most normal conversation we had with each other but… We can’t go back there.” She walks off the dance floor, making him follow her without hesitation. Instead of going back to their table however, she makes a b line to the unlighted pathway of the garden.
“Hey, don’t go. I’m sorry I ruined the moment.” He unbuttons the top of his vest seeing his blazer was still on his chair. “I spoke about fight club-”
“You remember that?” Y/N slows down her speed and turns around. “It’s been three years and you still remember it?”
“Why don’t you?” Harry turns his back around to notice the bushes covering them from the rest of the party.
“Of course I do but you got married and moved away. I just thought that would slip your mind.”
“Well it didn’t.” He musters up a small smile and shrugs his shoulders. “Look, can we go back to the party and pretend I didn’t mess this up.”
“It’s not about you messing up H. It’s the fact that I still get flashbacks of you and I -and seeing you here again is making me feel like the past three years didn’t happen.”
“I didn’t see you during Christmas.” He blurts out as he watches her sigh. “Any holiday except thanksgiving to be exact.”
“Well, I moved to Seattle and couldn’t book a flight home every time of the year.”
“Carla is dating someone new.” Y/N nods her head. “And I’m still not able to get you out of my head.”
“You might just ghost me next time around.” She lets out a sarcastic laugh as she tries her best not to trip over herself as she walks a bit further into the pathway.
“I told you I regret doing that.” He continues to follow her. “It’s been three years and you’re still mad about it.”
“I’m not mad. I’m just saying whenever it’s you and I, you tend to ghost me and run back to Carla.”
“If it makes you feel better, I could give a fuck less what Ryan thinks of us. It’s why I asked him if I could be your date.”
“I have a boyfriend Harry! An actual boyfriend who waits for me after work everyday. A boyfriend who actually replies to my calls-”
“He hasn’t even met Ryan or your parents!”
“Look Y/N, all I’m saying is I don’t care about this fucking guy!” Harry sternly walks towards her until he backs her up to a wall of vines.
“Then why are you trying to talk about our old memories and shit like that.”
“Because,” He pauses as he thoughtlessly rests his hands on either side of her head. “I fucking care about you. The moment Carla had a miscarriage and she needed me the most, I needed you! I didn’t realize I let you go the moment I went back to her.”
“So it’s true, you didn’t love me.” He pulls away but Y/N brings her hands up to his face to keep his eyes on her.
“Of course, I did.” Y/N cries as she shakes her head in disbelief. “Why would you think that would be true? You called me out on it before.”
“I came back every couple of months hoping to see you at home with your parents. You were always gone.”
“Did you actually?”
“Fuck.” He pulls away and runs his hand through his short hair. He swore he would never tell her this. Is this how desperate he is now. “Yeah, of course I did. I knew you would leave for college but I wish I knew from you.”
“It’s not even your fault.” He laughs as he hugs her. “I want you back.” His arms wrap around her much more tightly than before. “Please.”
“Do you love him?”
“Harry, don’t ask that?”
“No, I want to know.”
“Well I don’t know because after what you did-”
“Then you still love me.” He looks up at her in hope she would say yes. Just admit it, please.
“Okay and if I do -what do I do now? I like James and although it hasn’t been long I’m sure something will change.”
“Can’t you see?” He directs her back to the wall of vines. “You were always mine the same way, I was always yours.”
“The loophole of our deal.” She mumbles out loud as her hands mindlessly hold onto his forearms.
“The deal has always meant more to me than it should’ve.” He whispers as the sound of music and distant chatter is the only thing they can hear.
And I want to tell you everything
The words I never got to say the first time around
And I remember everything
From when we were the children playing in this fairground
Wish I was there with you now
If the whole world was watching I'd still dance with you
Drive highways and byways to be there with you
Over and over the only truth
Everything comes back to you
“Just kiss me already.” Y/N watches him as she lets out one more breath. Without hesitation he kisses her as the grip on her waist tightens. Y/N’s hands immediately play with the curls that reach the nape of his neck.
“Fuck, I missed you.” His soft lips rub on her left cheeks as he rubs himself on her. His hands begin to wonder in disbelief that she’s in his arms again. Her scent clouding his thoughts that they haven’t even noticed they’re still at a party.
“I want you.” Her hips raise itself on him as she rests her back on the cement behind her. “Harry, please.”
“We’re going home.” He bites his lip as his eyes darken. Without even thinking of what others would say, he mindlessly holds her hand as they walk out of the secluded space. The two didn’t bother telling anyone they were leaving the party as he basically dragged the poor girl to his car.
“Do you even know how to get inside Ryan’s house.” She giggles as she keeps herself close to his arm. He takes his blazer and rests it on her shoulders back like a few years ago.
“I have my ways.” He smirks as he helps her inside the vehicle.
This whole event felt like déjà vu. The wedding, the car ride, the quick secret escape from a party just to have sex. If there was one thing Y/N and Harry were good at, it’s probably how good they were at keeping themselves as a secret.
“I’ve missed you more than I thought.” Y/N bites her lip as she rests her head on the seat, watching Harry drive.
Him in his suit too focused on driving them home made her want to fuck his brains out. Truly.
Harry’s cheeks flush as he takes her hand into his. “I’m no longer that frat boy you used to know. I’m much nicer.”
“Oh really, in what ways?” she smirks as she eyes the growing bulge in his pants.
“I promise you won’t be able to leave my room tonight that’s for sure.”
“Then I’m happy.”
Moist air, dark night, and bodies clinging to each other as Harry struggled to open the front door. As the groom’s best friend, of course he had keys to his house. Y/N couldn’t help but keep her hands on his slim torso as there was something about just holding them that was driving her crazy.
“Fuck, your parents are going to wonder where we are.”
“I don’t fucking care.” Y/N licks the side of his neck before running inside. She’s trying to laugh quietly as she attempts to take off her heels. Harry being the responsible one, he texts Y/N’s dad they went home. Afterwards, he stops by Y/N’s room to lock it before he follows the girl into his room.
Once he locks the door, he realizes Y/N managed to take all her clothes off as she laid on his bed. “For fuck’s sake.” He mumbles to himself as he forgot how horny and crazy Y/N can be. He rubs the slight stubble on his chin as he watches the girl bite her lip and roll in his sheets. “You’re such a little devil aren’t you?”
“Like I said I missed you.” She fakes her confidence as Harry crawls up to meet her on the mattress. His finger takes the lip out between her teeth as his lips move forward to kiss her once again. His goal was to lay her down and kiss her naked body but it seemed like Y/N had other plans in mind. Her arms push him away as she kneels on the mattress. Keeping her eyes on him, she unbuttons the rest of his vest before spreading her palms over where his heart beat. Harry is speechless but the moment she began to unbuckle his belt he had to say something.
“Oh I see.” He smiles as his hand holds Y/N’s chin to his face. “I thought my girl really did miss me but it seems like she missed my dick a bit more huh? You want it?” He grips her face a bit harder as her hands maintain on his waistline. She nods shyly as she tries to continue her action.
“Fine, do what you want but I’m not done with you yet.” His voice softens as his hand immediately brushes the soft hair away from her face. His green eyes watch her drool over him as she unzips his pants. His hands on the flip side continued to remove the white long sleeve off his body. “Take it in your mouth. I know you’re dying too baby.” Y/N cheeks turn red as her tongue peaks out to kiss his hard cock. The funny thing is, she couldn’t keep her eyes off him despite being a horny mess. Sex was never the same if it wasn’t with harry and that was a fact because the moment she put him in her mouth, he pushed himself harder until he could feel the back of her throat.
The constant humming and gagging sounds wasn’t enough for him because the moment he pulled himself out of her little wet hole. He pulls her hair harder to keep her eyes on him. Without even hesitating, he spits in her mouth and puts his dick back in. From the way Y/N’s eyes rolled back, he knew full well that this was his girl and some things don’t change...especially the way she reacts to him.
“Are you going to let me fuck your mouth baby?” He moans quietly as he softly strokes her scalp. “How many times are you going to make me cum huh?” Y/N chokes a bit as he thrusts himself at a faster rate. “Always so pretty aren’t you dove?” He pulls himself out and slaps her tit. “What do you want me to do?” He whispers as kisses her lips once more. His mouth thoughtlessly kisses down the side of her neck as his hands press and grope on her tits.
“I want you everywhere.” His eyes watch her dilated ones as he slowly pushes her down the mattress.
“Hm, I don’t think you want to as much I thought?” He teases her as one of his fingers pops into his mouth and later into hers.
“You want me to beg?” Her tongue swirls around his digit as she lays helplessly on his pillows. “Never.”
“Never?” Harry laughs as his wet fingers pretended to walk down her body to her heated centre. “When did my baby become such a brat?” The devious smirk plays on his face as his tongue licks the side of his mouth.
“I’ve always been a brat.”
“Oh, so you don’t want me to fuck you is that what you’re saying?” His hands immediately stop teasing her as he begins to jerk himself off -slowly but surely.
“I do.” She tries to sit up but his hand pushes her back down immediately. “Harry, please?”
“Is that you begging me?” He laughs as his thumb wipes a bead of precum on his dick. “I would rate that three out of ten, Extra point because good girls say please.”
“Baby...” Y/N moans out as she tries to reach for him but Harry’s hands immediately grabs them and places them above her head.
“Just beg a bit better and maybe you wouldn’t have to work so hard, love. You said it before so show me you want me.”
“Daddy please fuck me.”
“Like music to my ears.” He spreads her legs open and pushes himself inside her. “Fuck.” It’s always the condom that gets to him.
“No, stay.” She whines as she holds onto his wait. “Please, I’m on birth control and James and I don’t really-”
“What?” His eyes widen as he bites the inside of his cheek. “What did you say?”
“He’s an intern at this hospital so he’s just always been busy.” She whispers in embarrassment. Don’t get her wrong, she has sex just not as much as she thought she should.
“Fucking hell.” He mumbles as he thrusts himself a bit harder into her. “No one has taken care of you in a while huh?” He bends down and kisses her again. The soft wet licks stay longer as he hears the beat of her heart. It was beating fast just like his.
“Mhm. Please Harry just fuck me.” She cries out as she takes his fingers back into her mouth. His thrusts become harder and harder as he watches her face cry in pleasure. “Oh daddy, fuck.”
“So fucking good. You’re such an angel oh shit.” His palm immediately chokes her. He couldn’t help but watch how her tits move up and down due to the force he’s putting into her.
“Let me ride you.” Her hips thrust up and meet him. Her mouth opens wide at the feeling.
“You sure about? Sure you can still take me?” His hand gives her a little slap to the cheek.
“Of course I can.” Y/N smirks. Harry immediately pulls himself off her as he lays down on the mattress himself. “You think I’m going to let you fuck me all night long. I’ve been wanting to fuck your brains out.”
“Y/N,” He smirks as he watches her straddle him. “You think you can fuck my brains out? You seem pretty fucking confident, baby.” He flicks her nipple which makes her press herself deeper onto his dick.
“I can.” She closes her eyes as Harry watches the moonlight shine on her face.
“Yeah, then show me.” He slaps the side of her thigh more harder than before. “Fuck me. Just use me then.”
“Just promise I’ll be a good girl, daddy.” her hands slide down to his waist.
“Promise.” He bites his lip and watches their wet desperate centres meet.
And in that moment, there was nothing but lust in their eyes as they fucked back and forth. Y/N moaning as Harry continued slapping her ass. He couldn’t help but thrust his hips as well due the fact there was nothing better than feeling Y/N’s desperate pussy clenching for more.
“Go on all fours.” He cries out after a few more rounds. Y/N wasn’t lying since she definitely fucked his brain out. There was nothing on their minds other than jumping each other’s bones over and over again.
Once she’s in position, he slaps her ass once again before putting himself back in.
“Oh god, shit baby.” Y/N bites the end of his pillowcase as she keeps her hands on the headboard. “You’re so big, I can’t anymore fuck.”
“I know you have one more in you, come on baby.” He pulls her hair and slaps her ass once more.
“Fuck!” She moans out as she feels his wet spit travel down her pussy. Harry immediately thrusts harder as the sweat on his neck begins to bother him. His thrusts were becoming sloppy but he needed Y/N to cum one more time.
“God, fuck me.” Harry moans out as Y/N finally cums one more time around him. Without even thinking, he releases himself inside of her and pulls her hair harder one more time. She immediately falls down as she can’t feel a thing. Harry felt her clench around him despite his need to pull himself off her.
“Baby, you have to let go.” He kisses the back of her shoulder and grips the side of her waist.
“Please don’t go.” She cries out and wipes her tears on the pillowcase. Harry slowly pulls himself off and lays on the bed beside her. He puts himself back in and wipes her tears away. His arm pulls her closer to him as he whispers one more thing into her ear.
“I love you.”
“Glad to see you two are awake.” Y/N’s mom waits in the kitchen as she makes pancakes on the stove. “Ryan and Meghan left last night right after the reception.” She suspiciously keeps her eyes on the two as they walk together to the breakfast table. “Harry, thank you for leaving the door unlocked. We came home around one last night.” Oh shit did they hear us? Y/N looks at Harry who seems bothered as he takes a sip of the coffee in his mug.
“I didn’t hear you two.” She brings the plate to the table. “If you’re wondering Y/N.”
“Mom, it’s not what-” Her cheeks flush in an embarrassment.
“Oh please, don’t bother lying. I already lied, Harry was the one who opened the door for us.” She laughs and rolls her eyes. “And Harry, don’t bother giving me an excuse. It makes sense.” She sits down with the two of them. “You always kept visiting us back home and the way your eyes watched her when she came here after her flight gave it all away.”
“Not to mention, you answering the door shirtless and Y/N not responding when we knocked on her door last night.” Y/N’s dad appears with a newspaper in hand.
“Does Ryan know?” Harry looks at Y/N and puts a pancake on her plate. Does her parents even know she’s wearing his clothes?
“Ryan saw you two leave together.” Y/N’s mom laughs. “Don’t worry, it was him and Meghan’s idea to also try and pair you guys together.”
“Wait so he’s okay with it.” Y/N speaks up after murmuring a thank you to Harry.
“Of course he is, Y/N. You guys are no longer teenagers right? So make your own choices for Christ’s sake.” Her mom states in disbelief.
“Did you know I’ve been seeing her back in high school?”
“Harry.” Y/N’s dad’s tone changed. Sounded a bit like disappointment.
“Oh god, there is more to the story?” Y/N’s mom rolls her eyes. “Alright, eat up everyone, you two have to tell us everything.”
“So this is it.” Y/N smiles as she sits in his car. The two were currently at the airport. “I had no idea, you relocated to Boston. It makes sense why you had so many things in your room back at Ryan’s house.”
“Yeah, I transferred last year. I’m hoping to finish here, graduate and then see what else I can do.”
“What do you think this means for us?” She puts her shades on as she pulls on the sleeves of her light sweater that she was wearing over her collared shirt.
“It means that this is when I ask you if you would please be my girlfriend.” Y/N’s cheeks flush and she hides her face in her hands.
“Are you for real?” She laughs.
“Yes.” He smirks as he keeps his hands on the steering wheel.
“I will be your girlfriend, Harry.”
“Good. You’re breaking up with James right.” Y/N rolls her eyes and nods.
“I’m ending it with him, the moment I land back in the city.”
“Make some space, I might move there.” He lightly jokes but there was some truth in it. Meghan and Ryan were married, there was no need for him to take up some space in their house.
“Sure, you’ll love Seattle and Ness is there too.”
“I like that. Will you introduce me to your ex?” Y/N laughs as she opens her door.
“No.” but right before she can get out, his hand pulls her back in for a kiss. Once their lips touch, he looks at her once again.
“I love you.” He genuinely states as he watches her eyes melt in happiness.
“I love you too.” She smiles and kisses him once more. “Bye, Harry.” She hugs him across the platform and kisses his cheek too. “I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you more. Call me later tonight when you land yeh?”
“Okay.” She pouts. She had to catch a flight and be away from him for at least one more year.
“I love you okay, baby.” He kisses her forehead. “Bye.”
“Bye.” And with that, Y/N steps out of the car and watches him drive away. She has a plane to catch and he has some sheets to clean but that doesn't change the fact, they are finally together.
And everyone knows it.
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