#then all our friends left except ONE other lingerer and I was trying to convince them to go somewhere so we’d be alone

[lendeah]

Eclipsed Reverie

Pairing: AstarionxFem!Tav

Summary: As the final battle with the Nether Brain looms, Astarion and Tav share a bittersweet night together, their hearts heavy with the knowledge that it may be their last.

Tags: fluff, smut and a tiny bit of angst. Very soft Astarion :( also biting stuff!

Word count: 5.3k

Warnings: NSFW (minors dni).

Under the shadowed canopy of the Baldur's Gate night, Astarion and I found a momentary reprieve from the impending battle. We have been strategizing the whole evening, and at this point there is nothing more we can do except rely on each other. I look at the man next to me, wondering when did we go from strategizing allies to something more. The moonlight catches the contours of Astarion's face, revealing a vulnerability that transcends his usual cheeky demeanor. There's a shared understanding in the silence, and as our eyes meet, unspoken words linger in the air. Despite his usual aristocratic charm, it now feels damp and heavy. Even with his vampiric strength, he seems weakened by the recent events. The battle against Gortash had taken its toll, leaving both Gale and Shadowheart heavily wounded.

The air is heavy with tension, but a shared understanding lingers between us two. "Are you scared?" I break the silence, although I already know the answer.

"Terrified, actually." Astarion turns to face me, expression serious for once, his red eyes gleaming softly in the night in a way that's somehow comforting. "I know that we've already faced worse odds together, but this time feels different, you know? Like, if anything happened to either one of us, it would rip the other's heart apart."

I force a little smile. "Good thing you don't have a heart then, or I'd be worried"

He snorts softly, smiling back at me. "Oh, the ever-present stereotype of heartless vampires. But fear not, my dear, I still have plenty of heart left - just not the beating kind you may be envisioning." A small laugh escapes my lips at his words, breaking the tension between us.

After a beat, he looks at me and reaches my hand across the blanklet we are sitting in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And you, my dear, are you scared?"

I hold his gaze, feeling a shiver run down my spine at the intensity. "Of course I am," I reply softly. "But I have faith in us, Astarion. We've faced so much together and we always come out stronger."

He nods "You're right," he says, a hint of pride in his voice. "We make a good team." he makes a little pause, and adds "Mainly thanks to me, of course. My lethal blattle skills are the only reason you weirdos are still breathing."

Astarion's usual smugness returns as he breaks the intense moment between us. I roll my eyes, knowing that deep down he's just masking his own fears with his bravado. But I also know that his skills in battle are not to be underestimated. He has saved our group from countless threats with his agility and cunning tactics.

"Let's just hope our luck holds out," I reply, trying to convince myself more than him.

"Oh come on, have a little faith in me," Astarion teases, nudging me playfully. "I may be a vampire but I'm not invincible. I need all the help I can get."

I chuckle, squeezing his hand. As we continue to bask in the moonlit serenity, a gentle breeze rustles the leaves above us, carrying with it the distant sounds of the city. From the rooftop of this abandoned building we are alble to look at the whole city, the small lights flickering in the night. I look at him, and find him staring at the view lost in his own thoughts. I fight the urge to scream how utterly frightened I am of losing him, of losing all our friends. Of not being able to save the people of Baldur's Gate. That everything we did, every death, was for nothing.

When his gaze returns to me, I can sense he sees past my facade, his eyes full of understanding and acceptance. "It's funny you are scared right now," he muses, his gaze searching mine, "there are so many things that you fearlessly face every day. Battling against a horde of mind flayers? Easy. Blowing up a whole building full of firework? A piece of cake. But sleeping among a throng of grunting and snoring druids? That's enough to make you quiver with dread." I laugh, thinking back to the time when I almost had a heart attack when I heard Halsin's snores, thinking there was a boar in the camp.

With a small smile, he pulls me to him, and lets his lips brush against my forehead in a tender gesture. The warmth of his touch soothes away some of my anxiety. I look up at Astarion, and the emotions I've been holding back start surging through me. "I can't bear to lose you," I say, barely above a tremble. He deserves happiness after all he's been through, and I just wish I could give it to him.

"It's funny you should say that... Because I'd say the exact same thing about you." His hand wraps around mine, his other hand moving up to gently cup my face. "I've tried for 200 years to find a purpose, a reason to keep going, and it was only when I met you that this aimless meandering had a goal. I've loved others, and I've been loved before, but never like this. Never with someone like you."

A surge of warmth fills my chest as I listen to his words, and I can't help but lean into his touch. Astarion's eyes are soft and full of sincerity, a side of him that he rarely shows. But in this moment, with the weight of the world on our shoulders, he is opening up to me.

"I've never felt like I belonged anywhere before," he continues, running his thumb along my cheekbone. "But with you and the others...I finally feel like I have a home."

In that moment, my vulnerability and affection shines through as a tear slids down my cheek. He pulls me closer, the embrace is warm and desperate, with my face pressed against his skin as if trying to take in every part of him. His scent is intoxicating - leather and smoke blending together - and I can't help but breathe it in deeply, etching it into my memory like a treasure. I tenderly press my lips to the bite mark on his neck, knowing it’s his sensitive spot. He inhales sharply, his breath hitching at the sensation of my mouth on him. I feel his hands grip onto me, needing to keep me close, and I end up nestled on top of him, our bodies fitting together perfectly like puzzle pieces.

"You know... I am not ashamed to admit that I have never felt the kind of attraction I feel for you. Even those first days in the grove with you... My heart was pounding, because I thought you were so incredibly beautiful. I was so drawn to you, it was like you were made just for me and me alone." I blush slightly in response, realizing I will probably never get used to this. Never get used to him.

"I liked you since you put a dagger in my throat and I headbutted you so hard you almost passed out" I whisper in his ear, with a small smile playing on my lips.

"That was an excellent headbutt, though. I couldn't believe you were able to stand immediately after that." He shakes his head, smiling as he presses a series of kisses to my hair, my cheeks, and finally, his lips find mine.

I sigh against him, his touch so very familiar, his mouth awakening something in me from the moment it touches mine. As our kiss deepens, I feel my body melting into his, my arms wrapping around his neck as his hands roam over my back and waist. The heat between us is intoxicating, and I can't get enough of him. My hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as our tongues dance together in a passionate rhythm. His hands gently trail up my sides, fingertips caressing my body softly through my clothes, while his tongue dancing with mine in a rhythm that I have become all too privy to.

Desire sweeps over me like a wave crashing against the shore, my senses heightened to the point of almost overwhelming. I force myself to pull away for just a few seconds, needing to catch my breath and take in the sight before me. His once bright, piercing eyes have now transformed into pools of darkness, consumed by an insatiable hunger. I look at his lips, parted and glistening, showing those fangs I have grown to love so much.

"My love," I whisper, my voice trembling with anticipation. "Would you like to feed on me?" It's a question I have asked countless times before, but each time feels like the first, igniting a fire within me that can only be quenched by his bite.

There's a flicker of surprise, and then satisfaction, on his face as I ask him. His eyes flicker downward, his gaze wandering down my neck, tracing every vein he'll find there. His nose flares, breath growing heavy and my body thrums with anticipation and excitement. When he looks back at me, the hunger in his eyes grows, and with a small chuckle, he lets out a slow breath.

"My dear... You know I could never say no to such delicious meal."

My breath hitches, as his hands confidently and carefully press me onto my back, his fingers gently removing the collar of my shirt to reveal my neck. I take a deep breath, bracing myself for what's to come. He brushes away a strand of hair that has fallen across my face, just like he did the first time he fed on me all those months ago. His strong hands hold me steady as he leans in, and the warmth of his breath washes over me. I have to fight the urge to squirm as his lips press against my skin, trailing down to my collarbone where his teeth break through the surface. A sharp sting pierced my skin, and I can’t help but let out a moan. I can feel his tongue swirling around the wound as he feeds, his breathing becoming more labored with each passing second. My heartbeat races with excitement as Astarion's teeth sank deeper into my neck, drawing out more blood. He growls softly, his grip on me tightening as he feeds greedily. The world around me begins to fade as the vampire venom courses through my veins, clouding my mind and heightening my senses. He bit again, this time just below the first wound, and I could feel myself growing weaker yet more alive at the same time. The lack of blood starts to get to my mind, making me lightheaded. It was both terrifying and arousing, knowing that I was being drained of life while also experiencing a rush of pleasure unlike anything else.

He keeps the bite going for just a little bit longer, before eventually pulling away.

"Mmmm. I always worry that I'll drink too much from you, but you always seem to make it through just fine?" he says, his voice rough with desire.

I laugh groggily "I think I enjoy myself a little too much when you drink from me".

Astarion chuckles softly, a hand stroking my neck affectionately.

"As much as I hate to admit it, you're quite delicious. There's something about your flavor that keeps me coming back for more." he purred, flashing a sly grin. "Just like how you can't resist my charms. Always coming back like a pretty little pup."

I roll my eyes playfully at his cocky remark but can't help the small smile that tugs at my lips. My thoughts are interrupted as Astarion shifts closer again. His body presses against mine and I can feel his breath on my face as he leans in. Our eyes lock for a brief moment before our lips meet in a passionate kiss.

He tastes like blood and something else entirely that is uniquely Astarion. It's an intoxicating combination that leaves my head dizzy with desire, making me want more.

I reach to the back of his head and curl my fingers in his soft strands of white hair, giving it a sharp tug. He groans, and I deepen the kiss, electricity cursing through me as I grab at every piece of him that I can. Every kiss grows longer and deeper, and I cling to him like I will drown without him, wanting nothing more than to spend what's left of tonight buried in his touch. His breathing grows heavier, but his grip on me is firm, steady. His hands wander over my body, one trailing down my waist and the other moving upwards slowly, to slide beneath my shirt.

"Mmm - my my, look at you." His whisper is filled with a teasing affection. "It seems like the venom has already put you in a mood." My breath catches and I lock my legs together. His grin grows wider as he watches my eager reaction. His hands keep caressing my body softly, and his voice is lower than usual, his words almost a growl. "Feeling a bit overwhelmed already, are we?"

I can only nod frantically as he leans in for another kiss. Our bodies move together in a rhythm that feels familiar yet new every time we're together like this. I moan in response, my head swimming with the taste of him, the feeling of him everywhere, and his smell, gods, that smell. He separates for a second, removing both my shirt and pants in a swift move, and leaving me exposed in nothing but my underwear. Every nerve ending in my body hums with anticipation as I await bare before him.

The way he looks at me, the way his eyes wander over my every curve, is intoxicating - and not just because of the venom. He traces his hand over my skin, his fingers slowly caressing every inch. His fingertips gently graze over my chest, brushing against the fabric of my underwear, and then his hand slips underneath the bra. I squirm beneath his touch, my breath catching, my excitement clearly showing as I arch my back. "Y-you are still fully dressed" I say, as I reach for his shirt. But before I can even lift the fabric, he grips my wrist firmly, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Oh no, my dear, you see... I have a different plan."

With a sudden movement, he presses his lips to the still sensitive skin under my neck, sending shivers down my spine. His tongue flicks at the punctures, his teeth gently nipping at it, until I can’t focus on anything else but the sensation of his touch. The weight of his hands on me was almost suffocating, but at the same time, it only adds to the pleasure coursing through my body. Overwhelmed with pain and pleasure, I let out a moan, louder this time, thanking the gods for being in a secluded area far away from the rest of our companions.

"I-I need to see you". I gasp, my thoughts scattered and my body yearning for him.

"Need?" Astarion leans in again, his voice dripping with honey. "Oh I know how much you need me." A mischievous glint dances in his eyes as he continues, "But don't forget about want and desire - I promise I can fulfill all of your cravings." His grin widens, as if he's sharing a delightful secret.

His hand tightens slightly, and his grin only widens. "Now, would you like to try asking me again, but with more pleading?"

"Please" I whisper, my voice barely audible even in the quiet of our secluded spot. Astarion's smirk widens even more, and he leans in close until our noses are almost touching.

"Please what?" he taunts, his hot breath tickling my skin.

My cheeks flush with embarrassment as I realize that he wants me to say it out loud. To admit how much I crave him, how much I need him. But then again, isn't that exactly what I want? To let go of all inhibitions and give myself completely to him?

"Please...I need you," I murmur, feeling a mixture of shame and arousal wash over me.

Astarion's smile turns into a satisfied grin as he loosens his grip on my wrist and leans back slightly. "Good girl. That's perfect." he purrs, before he pushes back, slowly stripping the rest of his clothes off, till he's just as exposed as I am right now. "Do you have any idea just how exhilarated I am right now?" His words are playful, his eyes twinkling as he leans forward. "All of this, this energy that's in my blood... and it's all your fault." He leans in again over my body, his breath fanning my lips "What are you going to do about it, my dear?"

I can’t help but feel a thrill run down my spine at the thought of being able to turn the tables on him for once. I reach out and grab onto his shoulders, pulling him closer until our lips were inches away from each other.

"I'll show you," I whisper.

"I bet you will…” Astarion leans in, his breath hot and sharp as he inches even closer. Then he pulls back, a devilish grin on his lips. It's clear he's enjoying this.

With a quick, fluid motion, I thrust my hands against his chest and roll on top of him. Despite the chaos and danger of our quests, I can't help but feel grateful for the physical strength and endurance it has given me in moments like these.

I take the moment to admire the beautiful lines of his body, the way his pale and smooth skin seems to shine under the moonlight, the curves and planes of his stomach and chest. My eyes linger on the stretch just below his navel and traveling south. My mouth waters at the sight of him, never used to his beauty doesn't matter how many times I see him like this. His muscles flex and tense under my gaze, and he watches me, his breath growing as ragged as mine is. He smiles widely, enjoying my staring at him so intensely.

"Enjoying the view?" He smirks at my admiration. "Is that all I am to you? A beautiful body?"

My own lips turn up in a sly smile as I tease him. "Well, let's just say you're not bad, but have you seen Gale without his shirt on? Now that is some tough competition."

I was expecting to see a jealous reaction, but instead he bursts out laughing. "You are a menace! I am a gorgeous, beautiful creature. Gale is... not unattractive, I suppose. But he also looks like someone glued bird wings to his hair and called it a day." He reaches out with a hand to gently trace his fingers down the lines of my stomach. "Mhmm..." I release a content sigh and take my hands to his chest and shoulders, caressing the smooth expanse of skin there. "Although I admit, I am way more curious about Wyll" I say, and then turning my voice into a whisper I add "You can grab his horns if you get really into it"

He laughs again, his mouth curling into a mocking smile. "Oh, you're curious about him, are you?" He shifts below me, his hips pressing against mine."Well, I should warn you - his horns aren't the only sharp part of him. He has a very sensitive spot, and he might just stab you if you try..."

I laugh lightly "You stab me everyday with those fangs of yours, so I think I'm used to it"

His voice growls low and deep, sending shivers down my spine. "Is that so?" he asks, the words dripping with a mixture of amusement and challenge.

My own breath catches as I feel his hips rise to meet mine again, the fabric of our underwear the only barrier between us. The sensation of his erection pressing against me in just the right spot sends a jolt of electricity through my body. "Maybe you should go to him instead, then" he taunts with a smirk, a knowing glint in his eyes. "But, then again, what would he say if he saw you like this?" His words are punctuated by another forceful thrust and I can't help but release a small moan in response. "Wrecked and bruised. Marked by me"

An uncontrollable moan escapes my lips as I start rocking my hips back and forth, the friction sending waves of pleasure throughout my body. I find purchase on his chest and scratch the skin there, hard enough to leave a mark.

"And you would like that, wouldn’t you?" His breath catches as my movements become faster, more aggressive. He knows what he's doing, and he enjoys seeing how it affects you. "Would you like for him to see you like that, with my marks on you? Knowing what we did? Would you want him to know that I had you first?"

"Yes, I would love for him to know that," I confess out of breath, as I struggle against the intense urges that fill me.

He lets out a low, guttural groan and appears to be finished with our playful game. He swiftly maneuvers my body back beneath his own.

With a quick and eager movement, I discard my now ruined underwear and he follows suit, shedding his own. My legs curve around his waist, drawing him closer to me as I feel the heat emanating from his body. As my hands roam over his back, I can't help but trace the raised lines of scar tissue, a reminder of battles fought and won. My heart swells with love for this man, and I plant gentle kisses along his shoulder, speckled with tiny freckles that resemble a dazzling constellation. Gods he is so breathtakengly beautiful. "None of our companions would make me half as happy as you do" I murmur against his pointed ear. His body tenses, and I can feel the emotions warring within him. "I know," he replies softly, turning to capture my lips in a deep kiss.

His hand squeezes down against my thigh, his fingers slowly working their way up my leg. His eyes find mine again, a flicker of recognition in them. And then he thrusts in deep, our hips colliding in loud smacking sound. My hips buck forward to meet his, the friction making me a wreck.

"Astarion," I whisper, arching my back and wrapping my arms around him. He groans and leans down to catch my lips in a searing kiss, and we both find ourselves struggling for air. My hands grip his shoulders, nails digging in slightly as my body responds to the intensity of the moment. I am panting as his thrusts start becoming harder and harder each second. Pleasure ripples through me, every touch turning me on fire. I glance up at him, and find his eyes tightly shut in concentration. "Please look at me," I whisper, my voice trembling with desire.

His eyes fly open at my plea, and I can see the raw pleasure mirrored in their depths. The way my body moves against his elicits soft moans from him, his gaze dropping down to take in the way our bodies fit together perfectly, the spot where our bodies connect. When he lifts his eyes back on me, is with a look of adorarion. His chest rises and falls rapidly as he leans in, pressing his nose against mine in an intimate gesture.

"I love when you beg for me, darling" he whispers, as his hips begin moving even harder, his thrusts quicker, rougher, and his body is so close now that it's almost like we are merging into one being.

Astarion's words send a shiver down my spine, and I cling onto him tighter as he continues to move inside me. Each thrust sends shocks of pleasure through my body, igniting every nerve ending and driving me closer to the edge.

"Please," I moan, my voice barely above a whisper as I tilt my hips up to meet his. He brings his fingers down to the place where we are connected, and touches my nub with vigor. I cry out at the feeling, my nails now fully scratching his back. His free fingers dig into the skin of my hips as his pace quickens, his breaths coming in shallow gasps. My teeth find their way to his neck, and I bite down with wild possessiveness. My brain buzzes with pleasure, and I can’t control the sensations coursing through me. The orgasm hits me like a bolt of lightning, causing me to open my mouth in a silent scream and cling onto him with my locked legs. My whole body tenses, as the ecstasy doesn’t seem to end.

His fingers dig into my scalp, his breath is fast and shallow and his eyes are locked on my face. I feel his body tense, the pleasure of my orgasm driving him right to the edge - but he doesn't let go, not yet. I feel him start to lose control of his thrusts, and after a few hard pumps his body seizes and with a rough groan. With a final gasp, he collapses on top of me, holding me close as we both catch our breath. We caress each other’s bodies, helping to ground ourselves again.

When he opens his eyes, they sparkle with satisfaction and amusement. It’s such a familiar gesture that I get suddenly overwhelmed with my love for the man before me, and can’t help but reach for him as I start to cry heavily over his shoulder. Astarion's strong arms wrap around me, holding me close as I cry against his chest. He strokes my hair gently, whispering soothing words as he lets me release all of my emotions. Tears and snot mix together as I sob, my body shaking with the weight of everything that has happened.

After what feels like an eternity, my cries turn to sniffles and then eventually stop altogether. Astarion pulls back slightly, cupping my face in his hands and using his thumbs to wipe away the remaining tears on my cheeks.

"Are you okay?" he asks softly, searching my eyes for any signs of distress.

I nod, giving him a watery smile."It's just..." I gasp "I love you so much" I finally manage to say, my voice cracking with emotion. "I wish we didn't have to go tomorrow. I wish you could stay safe at camp"

At my words, a soft smile plasters on his face, and he pulls me closer, one arm wrapped around me in a protective embrace while the other hand gently strokes up and down my back.

"Oh my dear," he whispers softly. "Don't be sad. This was the only decision we could make, the only right choice for us." words dripping with love and reassurance."You taught me about making the right choices, remember?" He playfully smirks, his fingers brushing away some stray tears from my cheeks. After a few seconds, he adds "I promise you, we will come back from this all in one piece. We always do."

I nod "I know. I just wish we didn't have to be the heroes for once"

"I know, my dear," Astarion says with a sad smile. He kisses my forehead and I rest my head on his chest, his breathing calming me down little by little. He lazily draws figures on my back, as I do over his pec, laying in comfortable silence. The quiet is soothing to us both, after the intense moment we just shared. I can't help but notice that he's tracing a little circle on my back, the pattern of one of his many scars. This makes me smile to myself somehow, like I'm feeling even closer to him, if that's possible.

After a few seconds of silence, he looks down at me and his fingers fall still. "I love you, you know." he says "More than anything or anyone."

"Even more than your hair?" I ask teasingly, as I caress his face with my finger.

He feigns shock and puts a hand to his chest. "Don't be foolish now. Have you seen my locks? No one could possibly love anything more than my magnificent white curls."

His words are playful, but his expression grows serious "You are the most valuable thing in my life. The only one who's ever truly seen me, as I really am. The only one in the whole world who I don't have to hide a single piece of myself from." He tenderly presses his lips against the tip of my finger, sending a wave of fluttering butterflies throughout my stomach. His love for me is palpable and it fills me with warmth and joy.

He leans in and kisses me gently, his lips soft against mine as he pours all of his love into it. My heart swells with emotion as our lips move together in perfect harmony. In this moment, it feels like nothing else matters except for us and our love.

When we finally pull away, we both let out a content sigh and rest our foreheads against each other's. We fall asleep like that, our bodies intertwined in a mess of limbs as if we are one.

The warm rays of sunlight gently wake me up, and I find myself still wrapped in Astarion's embrace. His arms are tightly around me as if he's afraid to let go, and I can't help but smile at the sight.

I take a few moments to admire his sleeping figure. He has his eyes closed, with thick lashes falling over his cheeks. His hair falls lightly over his forehead, and I resist the urge to tuck it behind his ear.

I trace my fingers over his chest, feeling the rise and fall of it with each breath. In this peaceful moment, I am filled with gratitude for having him in my life. He has been my anchor through so much chaos and danger. Something inside me melts at the softness of his sleep, and in that moment, I can't help but wonder what things would be like if he were to stay with you like this - if I could have him, completely, without any worry about the world ending tomorrow. And you will I tell myself when you defeat that damned brain.

A soft snore escapes Astarion's lips and I chuckle softly. He stirs slightly, nuzzling closer to me as if sensing my presence. "Good morning," he mumbles against my neck, his voice husky from sleep.

"Good morning," I reply with a smile.

"Hmm. You're a cruel one, to wake me up when sleep is so nice. But I suppose I can allow that because you are cute."

"I couldn't stand your snoring any longer. I wonder how someone so beautiful can produce such horrible sound" I reply, trying to hide my amusement.

"Oh? I always thought my snores were just endearing! It's your fault, for being so sensitive that you can't just learn to live with them. Maybe I should just snore louder to drown out your complaining instead." I pretend to look wounded, but end up laughing uncontrollably. "You are the worst" I say, leaning against his chest.

"I'll admit, my talent for irritating you is very much a learned skill." He chuckles, then looks down at me as his arms slip on to my waist. "Besides," he adds with a grin, "I was only half joking with that last bit. I'll be sure to snore in your ear a little harder tonight. Just to make sure you get properly annoyed, hm?"

I playfully hit him in the chest, and then I grimly realize the sun is almost up, which means we have to leave. I sadly sigh as I untangle myself from his warm embrace and get up.

"We should probably get going," I say, trying to hide my own reluctance.

We quietly collect our clothes and dress ourselves, deep in thought at what awaits us. Silence fills the air between us two, as both of us take in the morning air. I feel the tension of the upcoming battle, and the dread is a weight upon us that makes it almost difficult to breathe. Our understanding is palpable through just a fleeting gaze and a silent nod. His warm hand reaches for mine, the gentle intertwining of our fingers conveying more than words ever could.

And at that moment, I can only hope that the next time my eyes open, he'll still be by my side. Hand in hand, we finally face the coming storm, the echo of shared whispers lingering in the air, a testament to the fragile beauty found in the darkest hours.

#astarion ancunin #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 #bg3 fanfic prompt #bg3 tav #astarion x tav #astarion fanfic #baldurs gate fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 #astarion baldurs gate #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #fanfic

[cowboyshit]

I just had such a sweet dream about adam I’m SO MAD I woke up

#well to be fair it was turning in to something scary #but he was right there to save me 🥺 #this is the second time he’s saved me in a dream lmao #but anyways the sweet part was that we cuddled 🥺 and we were laughing and talking and joking #and I felt so warm and safe and happy #😌 we were laying in bed cozied up together #but were *cough* ‘just friends’ *cough* #then a bunch of other weird shit happened cause dream logic #like our friends we were suddenly renting an Airbnb with all wanted to go to Disneyland for the day but I was trying to figure out how to #be alone with Adam so we could talk about what happened between us #or possibly 👀 do it (and more) again #then all our friends left except ONE other lingerer and I was trying to convince them to go somewhere so we’d be alone #then I went to the bathroom and some DUDE in a ski mask popped out behind me #and dream me was like ‘hey you’re that dude that’s been kidnapping women’ #and he fucking TASERED ME IN THE NECK #but not before I screamed for adam #and just as I went down adam busted down the door and then I woke up #anyways I’m going to get another hour or two of sleep and I BETTER get some adam cuddles for all that drama my brain just put me through #ashleys talking again

[lovemayari]

hi <3 could you write a daughter!reader x bucky imagine (it can be adopted, biological or she just sees him as her father figure) about her wanting to come out to him as bisexual, but she's a bit scared bc he's from the 40's when that was even illegal and she's not sure where he stands in those topics (logically she knows he'll support and love her no matter what, but she's still really scared), and obviously bucky is the sweetest and reassures and comforts her for all the time she needs it <3

it's a bit specific and it's okay if you can't or don't want to write it! thank you in advance 🤍

i'll always love you

editor’s notes ; hi, bub! <333 thank you for sending this in,,,, i actually need this lol ASJKAKSDHKA as someone that vowed to never tell my parents that i'm bi...yeah, well, i get the idea of being scared to admit to someone you love and see as a parental figure :") i loved bucky in this, and his sexuality in here is, ofc, a headcanon JKAHKJAD thank you for giving me the opportunity to write this, as always, let me know what you think!

wc ; 1.17k

warnings ; implied homophobia during bucky's time, past and implied stucky, comfort, coming out, being scared, ily <333

summary ; when you distanced yourself from bucky, he's determined to know why, even if it might end up in you admitting you hate him (spoiler alert, you don't)

pairing ; bucky barnes & daughter! reader (familial / platonic)

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bucky's eyes never left you, watching as you played with clint and sam. you were one of the people he felt comfortable with easily, and as someone older than you, definitely older, he took on a protective role with you. so, when sam joked a while back, about bucky being your father, in some way or form, and seeing your face brightened when he didn't deny anything, he figured that he wouldn't really mind being seen as a parental figure, despite past experiences, because at least he knew you.

or so he thought. you've been avoiding him these past few days, he could tell. what with all the lingering, worried glances when you thought he didn't notice and the nervousness he could feel vibrating off of you, yep, you were avoiding him.

but he doesn't understand why. which is partly the reason he kept an eye on you these days, because even if you wanted to ignore him, he didn't want to just neglect his duties of keeping you safe, no matter how hurt he is that you are ignoring him.

"what happened with you two?" tony was beside him, eyes narrowing as he looked between you and bucky. "you know, since you're technically a father figure to our dear y/n, you can always ask me or clint for anything."

it was still weird being "friends" with tony stark after they almost killed each other in sokovia. but then again, bucky was always grateful for tony stark, and with B.A.R.F., and his arm.

bucky's expression didn't change as he answered tony. "kid's avoiding me, no one knows why, except for natasha, and she wouldn't tell me herself."

tony chuckled, patting bucky on the shoulder. "kids, one day they grow up, and suddenly they don't need you anymore. tell you what, i'll try and convince natasha to convince y/n to talk to you, 'kay?"

bucky simply nodded, thankful for tony. he couldn't quite understand why you started avoiding him, but he'll try to, he couldn't lose you too.

later that night, bucky was told to go to one of the rooms they use for briefing. he was nervous, of course he'd be, for all he knows, you're going to tell him that you hate him and then you're going to permanently avoid him, and he couldn't live with that, no he couldn't. he didn't notice himself pacing around the room, eyes twitching a bit as he thought the worst of every scenario ever, that he didn't notice your worried glance at him when you entered the room.

you were beside him in an instant, grounding him as you helped him even out his breathing. you held his arm, worry pooling in your eyes. admittedly, you were avoiding bucky, but it wasn't anything he'd done, it's what you were afraid he would do. which, in hindsight, might not make sense, because you knew bucky loved you as a daughter, and would support you through everything, but this secret you were keeping from him…you couldn't risk losing him, hence, you avoided him.

"you okay?" your worried glance calmed bucky, because at least it meant you still cared, right?

"yeah, 'm fine." he breathed. "why were you avoiding me?"

"straight to the point, huh?" you chuckled, hands shaking a bit as you tried to calm your heart. "please don't be mad?"

his features softened. "i would never be mad at you, y/n."

"i know," you sighed, biting your lips in worry. "but you know me, always the overthinker. i just…i don't want you to hate me, although i do know that you won't, and this is just me being a bit irrational but–,"

he stopped you, his hands holding your shoulders. "look, we're both scared and kind of new to this whole parent-daughter thing we have going on, but i know and you know that we will always have each other's back, no matter what, okay?"

you took a deep breath, nodding. your hand went to interlace with bucky's, the familial love felt in every crevice of your hand in his. he could feel you were shaking so he squeezed them gently, offering you support for whatever it is that you wanted to tell him.

"so, i was with natasha the other day," you started, nerves slowly easing as bucky looked at you encouragingly. "and we kinda talked about…about, uh, sexualities, since pride month's a few days away, and i asked her, since she's with maria, right?"

bucky simply nodded, already having an idea on what you were going to say, but of course, he waited.

"and then, a few days later, i think i realized something." you took another deep breath, looking bucky in the eye. "i'm bisexual. i think i actually am for a long time now, but i just came to terms with it, so…yeah."

"y/n, that's amazing, darling." he immediately pulled you close, mind traveling back to when he knew about the different sexualities in the 20th century. back in the war, he knew he was different, what with steve, and other dames he dated, he knew that it's something people considered taboo. so, when he finally got to live the life he always wanted, more free than before, he researched about it, asking natasha for help as well.

he pulled out of the embrace, smiling briefly as he wiped the tears from your eyes. you felt relieved that bucky–your dad, took it well, and didn't change his mind and still loved you. you smiled at him, tears flowing down as he reassured you, that he was proud of you and that nothing changes, he still loves you.

"you really don't mind?" your voice was small, still a bit worried despite his reassurance. his hands gently stroked your hair, eyes full of love as he looked at you.

"baby, y/n, never. when i woke up in the 20th century, after tony helped removing the words." he looked at you and smiled. "the first thing i did was ask steve if it changed."

"if what changed?"

"steve didn't tell you?" your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at bucky. he laughed, shaking his head. "we dated back in the war, before everything happened."

your eyes were wide as he continued. "i never thought there would be something to describe my attraction to steve. we were friends first, and lovers for quite a while, but it was only always him. i was only ever attracted to him. and then, i learned about demisexuality, and it opened up a lot of things i never knew about me."

he looked you in the eyes. "believe me when i tell you that nothing will change. you will always be my daughter and i would always be behind your back, just like you with me, alright?"

you nodded again, this time, more sure that bucky wasn't lying, not that he could do that to you. he grinned, pulling you for another hug and patting your head. "i'll always love you, kid."

"i'll always love you too…dad."

© lovemayari ; do not modify or reupload anywhere else but reblogs are greatly appreciated !

#—lovemayari #bucky as a dad tho !!! #marvel #mcu #no one's dead everyone's happy #avengers #marvel imagines #marvel x reader #marvel fanfiction #comfort #avengers imagines #avengers x platonic reader #avengers fanfiction #bucky & daughter! reader #platonic #the avengers #daughter! reader #past and implied stucky #stucky #avengers comfort #mcu x reader #mcu fluff #mcu fanfiction #mcu imagines

[the-modernmary]

chess, not checkers || a. hotchner x f!reader

Summary: Cross-examining Agent Hotchner should have been a lot more simple than it had been. But when the questioning slips out of your control, you find yourself being profiled right there in the middle of the courtroom. Amazing how one stranger can know you better than anybody you've ever met.

Contains: SMUT! 18+ only, minors DNI. Fingering, (light) choking, semi-public sex, adultery, anger sex, enemies to lovers, edging, lawyer hotch <3

Word Count: 8k+

Comments: This is so heavily inspired by “charcoal grey” because we all know how hot he was in that scene. Thank you to @angelfxllcm for being an absolute godsend as I wrote this and being the most supportive friend ever. (If you haven’t read her work, you absolutely should!)

“Fucking FBI and their selfish ass schedules,” you grumbled as you hurried through the hallway of the courthouse, your intern Robin on on your heels. “Court gets pushed back for a week because Agent Hotchner just had to leave with them on a case instead of working remotely, and then expects us to drop everything to go to court the second he gets back to D.C. As if we don’t have jobs too. As if I don’t have six other cases sitting on my desk that now have to be pushed back because of him.”

 Robin scrambled behind you, nodding along to every word that left your mouth. “Does this happen with the, uh…”

  “BAU,” you supplied.

  “—BAU, right. Do court cases usually get pushed back for them?”

  You shook your head as you checked your watch. A glint caught the corner of your eye. Shit, your ring. You hadn’t expected to go to court, and completely forgot to leave it at home. You pulled it off and slipped it into the outside pocket of your bag, hoping nobody noticed.

“No. Most cases from the BAU never go to court,” you explained. “There’s enough evidence against the people they arrest that it’s almost always a plea.”

  The Bankers Box in Robin’s hands almost slipped as you placed another file precariously on top of it. “Then why is this case going to court?”

  Your step faltered as you processed her question, and you couldn’t hide the disbelief on your face. “You did read the brief for this case, right?” you asked, unsure if you really wanted the answer, except her embarrassed blush and averted gaze gave you enough of one. “Seriously? Okay, well, first of all, because of that, you won’t be sitting at the attorney’s table with us. Instead you’ll be in the public seating. I won’t weaken my case because you decided to be unprepared. If this happens again, you won’t be welcome to join me in court at all, am I clear?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Good.” Deciding to take pity on the poor intern, you sighed as you started your explanation. “Our client claims that his arrest was unlawful and therefore none of the evidence they found should be usable. I’m inclined to agree with him, so we’re fighting all of the charges that were made with evidence found after the arrest.”

  “So you don’t think he’s guilty?”

  “I don’t ask that question. I’m not God and I’m not his priest, I don’t need to hear his confession. I just need to get him out of unjust and illegal charges.”

  Robin’s eyebrows furrowed. “So he’s going to walk free? Even after everything he did? How do you sleep at night?”

  Fucking Christ, how did this girl even get into law school? You rolled your eyes, suddenly regretting your decision to take on an intern. “No, he’s not going to walk free. He’s going to get a lesser charge, because everything else was obtained illegally. And I sleep very well, actually, because my job isn’t some episode of Law & Order. Less than 10% of my cases ever go to trial. I’m not here to suddenly convince juries that the evidence is wrong. My job is making sure that everybody is given their constitutional rights, that the police are doing their jobs correctly, and that the State isn’t over-punishing. Any cop knows that, and if you ever come across one that doesn’t, you know that you should look into those cases even further. You have to realize, criminal defense lawyers—”

  “— are the last line of protection against a corrupt system.” You turned to see your assistant, Marcus, making his way towards you, briefcase and your spare blazer that you keep in the office in hand. “I see you’re giving her your famous anti-prosecutor lecture.”

  Marcus helped you slip on your blazer over your satin button up, his hands lingering on your skin for just a little too long to be considered professional, and it made you shiver in anticipation. “God knows she needs it. Thank you, Marcus, for bringing these so quickly. Were you able to get the physical copies of Agent Hotchner’s files?”

  Marcus held up his briefcase. “All right here. Although I have to say, I’m a little lost as to why you need his service records.”

  The three of you turned the corner to enter the courtroom, your heels clicking on the tiled floor. Robin obediently took her seat in the public viewing area while you and Marcus pushed through the swinging door to settle at your table. “I’ve heard stories of Agent Hotchner’s testimonies. He used to be a prosecutor, so he’s not easily tricked, but he is prideful and will defend his work. I’m going to use that to my advantage. It’s like I always say, practicing law means always playing chess, never checkers.”

  Marcus took the seat next to you, making sure to sit close enough that his knee brushed yours the whole time. “You know, I was thinking, this case is complicated,” he whispered, “And we haven’t combed through everything yet… It could take more time than we planned.”

  You smirked, knowing exactly what he was insinuating. “Agreed. I’ll tell Tony I have to stay late at the office tonight.”

  Before Marcus could continue his flirting, you were distracted by the door to the judge’s chamber opening, revealing the back of a man in a black suit. “Thank you again, your honor, for the continuance,” came the deep timbre of the man, and oh. You certainly weren’t expecting that. “A young girl was able to be reunited with her family this week because of it.”

  The man in the doorway turned, and your breath caught in your throat. He was tall and buff and expensive-looking and absolutely gorgeous. His suit was tailored to fit him perfectly, the sleeves of his blazer straining against his biceps. He carried himself with an aura of confidence, like he belonged in the courtroom, and he was making his way directly towards you. Unconsciously, you separated from Marcus, putting as much distance between you and your assistant as possible without raising suspicion.

  The man said something to the prosecution before turning to you, hand outstretched. He said your name as a greeting, and your name had never sounded so good. “I’m Aaron Hotchner.”

  When you stood up to shake his hand, you tried to ignore the way his eyes raked down your body, or the way the two of you held on just a moment too long to be considered proper. It felt as if he was looking right through you, learning all of your secrets as though they were written on your body. No, you knew that look. He was studying you. “Agent Hotchner, it’s a pleasure.”

  “Likewise, Counselor. Please, call me Aaron.”

  You raised your eyebrows in Aaron’s direction, still shaking his hand, and it made your skin burn. You dropped his hand. “I’m just glad we’re able to get this case done and over with. Hopefully with no more delays.”

  His eyebrows quirked upwards in what could only be described as shock. “I see your reputation precedes you,” was his only reply before going to his respective seat, and if he noticed you watching his every move, he made no indication of it. That being said, you definitely felt his gaze on the back of your head as the judge entered the room and the session began.

  As the proceedings dragged on, you and Marcus continued to talk strategy, his hand finding its way to your thigh ever so often. You also continued negotiating with the prosecutor, both of you flashing Post-It notes of potential plea deals that you would be willing to accept, always careful to keep it out of the eyes of the judge and jury. By the time Aaron had been called to the stand, the offer given to you still wasn’t low enough. Fine, if the prosecution wanted to make a fool of themselves, so be it.

  You listened to Aaron’s testimony with the prosecution, completely enraptured. There was something about the way he spoke, so full of authority and confidence, that made the entire room drawn to him. He was incredibly intelligent, that much was clear, and despite the many years since he had actually practiced law, that prosecutor candor hadn’t left him. Staying focused on the case had proven to be more difficult than previously expected. You found yourself staring at his lips, and it didn’t take long for your mind to conjure up some obscene and explicit situations starring the man in front of you. 

  Eventually, his eyes caught yours, and he watched you, his lips — god, those lips — quirked up in a smirk. Aaron watched you expectantly, and in the light of the courtroom, his eyes were almost the color of whiskey, and you wanted nothing more than to drink it all in.

  A sharp “Counselor” broke you out of your trance. In the corner of your eye, you could see Marcus looking at you in concern, but he was the furthest thing from your mind now, especially as Aaron let out an amused huff of air.

  “Counselor, does the prosecution wish to cross-examine the witness?” the judge asked with barely hidden annoyance, making you think that it probably wasn’t the first time she had asked the question.

  You stood up quickly, smoothing down your pencil skirt as you did. “Yes, your honor. Thank you,” you said, trying your best to keep your voice steady as you noticed Aaron’s eyes trailing down your bare legs.

  The cross-examination started normally, and Aaron answered all of your questions with careful precision that only a lawyer could pull off. He seemed to know exactly where you were trying to go with your questions, and easily sidestepped any unflattering implication you were trying to make. Long, biased questions were met with short, clipped answers, not giving you anything to work with. Whatever move you made, Aaron was right there, two steps ahead with you. Never in your life had you met somebody who could follow you so easily or could match your wit without so much breaking a sweat.

  It was exhilarating.

  “Agent Hotchner,” you started, hands clasped behind your back. “Could you please explain to the court how profiles are used when finding and apprehending suspects?”

  Aaron sat up a little taller in the witness box. “Using behavioral research and past case studies, we’re able to construct what we call a profile of the perpetrator, or unsub. Anything they do can give us insights as to who they are — their victims, what weapons they use, even how they dispose of the bodies. Once we have a profile of who we believe is committing these crimes, we have our technical analyst run the parameters through her system. From there, narrowing down our search is easy.”

  You nodded slowly, pretending to mull over what he was saying. “For clarification’s sake, in layman’s terms, you build your profile off of assumed psychology, and not concrete evidence, is that correct?”

  The muscles in Aaron’s jaw flexed, a sure sign he was gritting his teeth. “Behavior analysis is a tool, just like any other—”

  “It’s a yes or no question, Agent,” you interrupted, and oh, he was not happy about that.

  His tongue darted out from between his lips. “The research we use for behavior is—”

  “Yes. Or no.”

  Aaron hesitated, his frustration building up to palpable tension that settled in the courtroom like a thick fog. You weren’t giving him a chance to explain or show off anymore, didn’t allow him to be seen as the smartest person in the room anymore, and that was getting to him.

  “Yes,” he conceded, grimacing as if admitting that was physically painful for him.

  “Thank you,” you replied, and he caught the unspoken that wasn’t so hard now, was it? even if the rest of the room did not. You walked back over to your table, snatching up a piece of paper and holding it in the air. “Your honor, the defense would like to submit Exhibit Seven into evidence.”

  Once the judge gave her express permission, you placed the form in front of Aaron with your left hand, perfectly manicured fingers splayed out in front of his eyes. You almost missed the way his head tilted ever so slightly and his eyes narrowed, like he was staring at a puzzle half complete. “Agent, could you please tell us what’s laying in front of you now.”

  He leaned forward slightly, eyes scanning the paper before meeting back with yours. “This is a part of our official report of the case. Specifically, it has the profile that was used to lead us to the apprehension of Mr. Mckenna.”

  “Does it say on that paper who had the final sign off on the profile before it was circulated?”

  “Yes, that would be me. As Unit Chief, my job is to sign and finalize any reports.”

  “And could you please read the profile, verbatim, as written on that report?”

  Aaron’s face remained neutral, with the exception of his eyebrows scrunching together. Slowly, he had started to piece together your strategy, and he didn’t like it. “The unsub is a white male, between 32 and 40 years old. He’ll most likely be unemployed and driving a van or truck — anything that would let him easily transport his equipment and victims. We believe that he’s also had run-ins with the law before, likely as a juvenile. He’ll come across as friendly, if not a little shy. We believe that this comes from a failed relationship in his past, one where he believes that he was manipulated and wronged, and now he’s going after surrogates for that woman. Killing these women is the only thing that gives him any sort of power. If we can figure out who this past relationship was, it will lead us directly to the killer.”

  You paced back and forth in front of the witness stand, your skirt tightening around your legs with every step you took. “Between 32 and 40 years old, unemployed, and killing surrogates… Except Mr. Mckenna is 22 and works part time as a bartender. How do you justify arresting my client with those inconsistencies?”

  “As I mentioned before,” Aaron started, his voice dangerously low, “A profile is just one tool we use of many. Not every single part of the profile will fit every single time. Which is why we also rely on outside evidence to ensure that we have the best chance at catching the unknown subject as quickly as possible.”

  “Except you had no concrete evidence, which you admit in your own report!” You took two steps closer to him, getting as in his face as possible without risking being held in contempt. With every word that left your mouth, your voice got more and more forceful, and you got more and more under Aaron’s skin.

  “All of it was circumstantial at best. You had a hunch, an inherent bias against my client due to his previous conviction record, and you were frustrated at your own inability to get a good lead. But you can’t arrest somebody on a hunch, or because you’re angry. You had no evidence and the man you arrested didn’t even match the profile that you came up with!”

  Your eyes locked with Aaron, his gaze heavy, and neither of you dared look away first. “Objection!” came from the prosecutor behind you. Exactly what you wanted. “Argumentative and foundation.” You flashed Aaron a predatory grin.

  Two moves to checkmate.

  “Sustained,” said the judge.

  “Withdrawn.” You tapped the witness bench, hoping to convey an air of aloofness and calm. Aaron scowled. “Agent Hotchner, before joining the FBI, you were a prosecutor, is that true?”

  Confusion flashed across his face for the briefest of moments, and it gave you a twisted sense of satisfaction to know that you had the upper hand. You knew the answer to every question you were about to ask, and he knew that. He just couldn’t figure out where you were going with this line of questioning, or what the relevance even was. “Yes, that’s correct.”

  You made a soft hum of approval. “Could you please walk us through your higher education?”

  “I attended George Washington University for both my undergraduate and law degree.”

  “What did you major in for your undergrad?”

  Aaron hesitated. “Political Science.”

  Check. “So all together, you’ve had about seven years in higher education. In that time, how many psychology classes did you take?”

  It was almost sadistic, the way you relished in the slight twitch of his face — the realization that he had been backed into a corner. The silence was deafening as Aaron’s scowl met your smug grin.

  “None,” Aaron said finally.

  “None,” you repeated, performative shock dripping from your words. “Do you have any academic background in psychology or human behavior, then?”

  Aaron’s jaw clenched, and as you made your way closer to the witness stand, you saw his thumb frantically moving back and forth over his fingertips. Clearly, you had struck a nerve. “The FBI has rigorous coursework in order to become a profiler, along with multiple exams and continued training as more research becomes available to us. The profiling classes are no easy feat and are written by experts in the field. Creating profiles has a long and respected history in detective work, and these profilers have caught some of the most prolific serial killers of all time.”

  You placed a hand over your chest in faux modesty. “My apologies, Agent Hotchner, I believe I wasn’t very clear. I’m not calling into question the validity and effectiveness of profiles. I’m calling into question the validity and effectiveness of you as a profiler.”

  You could practically see the cartoon fire spewing out of Aaron’s ears. He was so close to being in your trap, something he had to have known, too, yet he continued to toe dangerously close to that line.

  “A lack of formal education in profiling,” you continued, keeping your voice light, “and the blatant disregard for basic police and legal procedure as shown in this case with my client… I mean, how many other mistakes were made in your past cases? It’s hard to believe that you can read anybody, much less the hardened criminal that you have painted my client to be.”

  Checkmate.

  “Objection!” cried the prosecutor again. “Your Honor, this is —”

  He was cut off by the judge raising her hand. “Sustained. Counselor, I would advise you to tread lightly from here on out.”

  You raised your hands in mock surrender. “Withdrawn.” You turned around to make your way back to your table, ignoring Marcus’s look of complete disbelief. Baiting Aaron had been easy, and now all you had to do was wait.

  The courtroom was uncomfortably silent for one beat… two beats…

  “Not only can I read Mr. Mckenna,” echoed Aaron’s voice, “But I can also read you.”

  Once you got back to your desk, you turned around, hands resting on the cool wood of the table top, but you never sat down. Instead, you leaned forward, and arched your eyebrows in a silent challenge — one he was all too eager to pursue.

  “The red Harvard Law tag on your briefcase is a perfect match to your lipstick, and you wear the same one every time you go to court. Not because you’re superstitious the way most lawyers are, but because it’s your way of maintaining control in the courtroom, something you’re desperate to keep in every aspect of your life, personal and professional. I would guess that this need goes back to late high school, early college. But you’ve been worried about appearances and how you’re perceived for even longer than that.”

  You fought the urge to roll your eyes. So he thought you were Type A? Anybody could have guessed that by your anything. All they would have to do is look at your color coded case files or your daily schedule, planned down to the minute. You had only been trying to sway the jury when you insinuated that he wasn’t a good profiler, but maybe you were actually starting to believe it yourself.

  Except Aaron got a dangerous glint in his eye, causing your stomach to bubble with anxiety. Clearly, he was playing chess, too, and by the looks of it, he believed he was winning. 

  “In fact, you’re so worried about losing control, that despite your busy schedule, you refuse to hire a planner for your upcoming wedding.”

  That got your attention. The objection that you were about to call died on your lips, and all you could do was stare with poorly hidden shock. Next to you, Marcus turned pale as a ghost.

  Aaron, cocky bastard, continued his profile of you, with no clear signs of stopping anytime soon. “You have a tan where your ring usually is, and I know you’ve been wearing it recently as you subconsciously fiddle with where it would be whenever things in court aren’t going your way. Just like you’re doing now. You still have your maiden name, which you plan on giving up when you do get married because not taking his last name would arouse too many questions that you want to avoid. Just another way your concern of appearances is manifested. So you’re engaged.

  “I would say congratulations, but it’s not a happy relationship, not on your side, anyway. Younger female professionals will take their rings off in fear of not being taken seriously, but you’re an established and respected lawyer. You needn't worry about that. So if it’s not about you, it’s about the fiance. You don’t want to be associated with him.”

  You gripped the edge of the table, too angry to form words. Your nails dug into the varnish, and you were sure that your heavy breathing could be heard from across the room. This dick. This absolute, garbage, piece of shit dick. The worst part was how casual he sounded as he aired all of your dirty laundry for everybody to hear.

  “He’s holding you back, in all aspects of life, but mostly intellectually. He doesn’t have a sliver of your capabilities. The two of you are probably high school sweethearts, prom king and queen type, but while you grew up and matured, he never did. He can’t keep up with you. Still acts the same way he did in high school, only now with more access to alcohol and money. Career wise, he doesn’t have much going for him, probably some sports related pipe dream. But you stay with him because you know how to control him and how to use him to your advantage.”

  Aaron’s eyes zeroed in on Marcus, and all of the color drained from your face. The voice in the back of your mind was screaming at you to object, to get the judge involved, anything, before Aaron did any more damage, but you were frozen in your spot. For the first time in your life, you were completely and utterly speechless and spiraling out of control.

  “That need for control is also why you’re sleeping with your assistant. It’s casual for you, but not for him anymore. You should break that off. That’s nothing new for you, though. In fact, I would bet that if we looked back at all of your affairs since your engagement, we’d find a long string of men and women, all of whom are your subordinates or of lower status than you. It’s a win-win situation — they’re more than eager to have a chance with you, and you get to stay in control. Oh, you’ll stop when you actually get married, but you continue to push that date back, as well. So…”

  He leaned back in his chair, clearly feeling good about himself, and God, you could kill him. You could reach over the witness box and wrap your hands around his throat and squeeze until his whiskey colored eyes popped out of his smug, beautiful face.

  Aaron lifted his chin, eyebrows raised in your direction. “Do you believe in my abilities as a profiler now, Counselor?”

  That snapped you back into action. You cleared your throat and unnecessarily smoothed down your skirt in an attempt to regroup your thoughts. “Well, Agent Hotchner, thank you for that little show and tell. It’s clear that you are very passionate about your career. However, just like your profile of my client, you have no evidence for any of your unsubstantiated accusations.”

  It was a pathetic attempt at saving face, and Aaron knew it, but it had to be enough for you. You turned your back towards Aaron so that you could face the judge, who, to her credit, had a perfect poker face the whole time. “Your Honor, I move to strike Agent Hotchner’s outburst” — not an outburst, Aaron was too composed to ever have one of those, but he grimaced at the word all the same — “from the record, as no question stands before the witness at this time.”

  The judge looked at you dubiously, clearly debating her ruling. There shouldn’t have been any reason to worry, you were legally in the right, but there was always the chance that she wouldn’t be on your side. You noticed yourself fiddling with where your engagement ring would usually be, and you cursed yourself under your breath. How could Aaron have possibly known all of that?

  “Sustained,” she said finally, “I direct the jury to disregard the witness’s, uh, example when considering the evidence.”

  You let out a breath of relief. It wasn’t much of a win — everybody still heard what had happened, it was still in the back of their minds, like the ring of a bell echoing — but at least in regards to the case, you had the legal upper hand.

  The judge turned back to you. “Defense, the witness is still yours, if you have any further questions.”

  If you were a little more in your right mind, you would have cut your losses, but between your oath to defend your client to the best of your ability and that stupid self assured grin on Aaron’s face, you knew that you really had no choice.

  Deep breath in… Slow breath out… You’re at a stalemate now.

  “Agent Hotchner,” you said, causing him to perk him up in interest. Clearly, he hadn’t been expecting you to continue. “Wouldn’t an ex-lawyer and an FBI agent be familiar with the rules of decorum in a courtroom?”

  His eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure I understand your question, Counselor.”

  “Let me rephrase, then. Would you say that you have a history of emotional outbursts and rule breaking in your line of work? And I’ll remind you that you are still under oath.”

  Aaron shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “No, I wouldn’t. Integrity is one of our core values, and we take that very seriously.”

  With shaking hands, Marcus handed you one of the files you’d had him print out on Aaron. “If that’s so, can you explain why, since your promotion to Unit Chief in 2005, you and your team have had seven disciplinary hearings, one of which being an internal investigation into the excessive force used by one of your agents, and another being a congressional hearing?”

  A sick sense of satisfaction passed over you when you saw him get visibly shocked, his poker face breaking for the first time that day. If he wanted to go for blood, you could fight back twice as hard. “I’m not at liberty to discuss either of those cases.”

  You shrugged nonchalantly. “Very well, Agent. So between the discrepancies in the profile, your inability to control your temper, and your history of breaking procedure, coupled with the fact that you arrested my client without any warrant by kicking in the door to an innocent civilian’s house, do you really believe that your arrest and the subsequent evidence that came from that arrest was obtained legally? Or do you just not care either way, as long as you’re able to prove that you’re right?”

  Right as he opened his mouth to speak, you turned your back on him and started to walk back to your table. Aaron wasn’t even able to get a peep out before you cut him off with a sharp “Question withdrawn. At this time, the defense rests.”

  “Our arrest was made on the grounds of—” Aaron tried, and you smirked to yourself. He must have been desperate if he was trying that move twice. You whipped around, gaze steeled.

  “I have no further questions, Agent Hotchner,” you repeated, only letting out the slightest hint of amusement. “But thank you for your cooperation with Lady Justice today.”

  Aaron’s eyes met yours, and a weight settled in the pit of your stomach. You should have hated him, but something about him had you completely and utterly entranced by him. Maybe it was the novelty of the case. Maybe it was the matching intellects and the fact that he was the only other person who could give you a challenge.

  Maybe you just liked the way you got to lose control with him.

  As he passed you, his arm brushed yours, and your whole body burned.

  “Very cute, Counselor,” he whispered, voice dripping with condescension. “How long did it take you to come up with that little switch up?”

  “Don’t patronize me,” you snapped. “I was playing chess, you were playing checkers, and that’s why you lost.”

  The rest of the session went on normally, if not a little tense. To your surprise, Aaron hadn’t left immediately after his testimony, and instead took a seat in the section for the public. Good. As soon as courtroom decorum wasn’t a factor, you were sure to give him a piece of your mind.

  Court adjourned for the day, and you couldn’t get out of there fast enough. You told Marcus to continue to push for a better plea option as you grabbed your briefcase and stormed out, pushing through the throngs of people until you could see the back of Aaron’s head.

  You sped up your steps until you were right behind him, and you grabbed his wrist to stop him in his tracks. “I have a bone to pick with you.”

  You pulled Aaron into an empty conference room, hoping to get some privacy before you completely blew your lid. You already had one public humiliation because of him, and you did not need another.

  “What is your problem?” you hissed, locking the door behind you. “You had no right to put my personal life on blast like that.”

  Aaron placed his hands on his hips, swooping the sides of his suit jacket back, and you had to make a very conscious effort to not stare. “You questioned my profiling abilities, and I proved them.”

  “You didn’t prove shit,” you argued, folding your arms across your chest. “Except for the fact that you’re an insufferable bastard.”

  “Are you saying that my profile was off? Because if you didn’t want to be caught committing adultery, then you shouldn’t have made it so obvious.”

  You gritted your teeth and took a step towards him in a futile attempt to come across as intimidating. Even in your heels, he still seemed to be towering over you. You’d have to level the playing field somehow. You gripped his tie and used it to pull him down so that he was closer to eye level with you. “I don’t need your judgment, Aaron.”

  Aaron moved closer to you, and you could feel the heat radiating off his body. His Adam's apple bobbed and it captivated you. “I couldn’t care less about what you do,” he said flippantly. “Matter of fact, I don’t think this fit of anger is even inherently about your little secret coming out. Do you want to know what I think it is?”

  “Not at all.”

  “I think,” he continued, completely ignoring your protest, “You’re angry because as much as you can dish it out, you can’t take it.”

  Your grip on his tie tightened at his words. “Trust me, I can take anything,” you said, voice low and breathy.

  Aaron’s eyes flickered to your lips — those kissable, red stained lips of yours. You hadn’t had to reapply your lipstick once throughout the day, and he idly wondered just exactly what it would take to muss up that perfect, pouty red lip. 

  “I also think that for the first time in a very long time, you didn’t have control, and you liked it.” He bent down a little bit more so that his lips brushed against your ear with every word and you could feel his breath run down your spine. “Aren’t you bored of sleeping with boys who are so far beneath you?”

  You’re not sure who initiated it, but the next thing you knew, your lips crashed against his, the two of you making out like it was the last kiss either of you were ever going to get. His hands felt impossibly everywhere all at once — gripping your hips, tugging at your hair, and even snaking under your work blouse to palm at your breast. His teeth nipped at the fibres of your lips. With every movement of his hands, little gasps escaped you, and you could feel the curve of his lips curling up into a smirk.

  His fingers trailed up the side of your body, past the curve of your neck, and tangled themselves in your hair before yanking it back, exposing the column of your throat. Immediately he attached his lips to your neck, nipping at your pulse point.

  “Aaron,” you whined, trying to regain the breath he stole from your lungs. You practically melted in his arms, going completely weak at the knees, especially as his tongue trailed across the underside of your jaw. You let his tie fall from your grip, instead bringing your hands up to cup his face to pull him in for another kiss. 

  His lips set a bruising pace, and it caused a fire to burn in the pit of your stomach. You had never once been kissed like this, never once felt so all-consumed by a person. Aaron’s cologne surrounded you, making your head spin. Bruises were sure to form from how harshly he was gripping your hips, but you didn’t care. He was addicting, and you wanted more.

  Hotch walked you backwards until you were pressed up against the wall, his thigh shoved in between your legs, forcing your skirt to ride up. The position made his arousal obvious as he pressed against you. The way he held you was possessive, primal even, Unconsciously, you ground down on his thigh, hoping for anything to help relieve the ache between your legs. 

  Unfortunately for you, Aaron caught on to what you were trying to do, and he chuckled against your lips before pulling away just far enough to speak. “Look at you,” he whispered, and the raspiness of his voice only served to turn you on even more. He hooked a finger under your chin, forcing you to look up at him, and his thumb traced your bottom lip, tugging at it ever so slightly. His other hand slowly trailed its way up your thigh, nails scratching at your skin. “Skirt hiked up around your waist, desperate to get off. Your little boyfriends aren’t doing it for you anymore?”

  He pressed his thigh further into you, ripping an involuntary moan from your throat. “Fuck,” you gasped, your hips still moving back and forth against him, not caring how needy it made you seem. “I need… I…”

  “What? Big, bad lawyer doesn’t have any more smart ass comments?” he cooed sarcastically, pushing your skirt up even higher. He replaced his thigh with his hand, and his fingers ghosted over your covered pussy, teasing you, not giving you nearly enough contact. “Fuck, you’re so wet already. Go ahead, needy girl, if you’re that desperate.” Aaron yanked down your panties in one fell swoop, and you blindly kicked them off to the side. “Be a good girl and show me how much you want this.”

  Without any more of a warning, one of his fingers entered you, and you let out a breathy moan that Aaron was sure to have on repeat in his mind for days to come. When the heel of his palm pressed against your clit, your brain completely short circuited. You threw your head back as far as you could despite being pressed against the wall as his name clumsily tumbled from your lips like a prayer.

  “You’re so fucking tight,” he grunted, pressing you further against the wall. “Can’t wait to feel you around my cock.”

  Electricity coursed through your veins as he added a second finger, easily finding that spot in you that made you see stars. You rocked your hips back and forth against his hand, eyes screwed shut in pleasure. His lips trailed from your jawline, down your neck, and to your collarbone. 

  “Look at me,” Aaron ordered, tightening his grip on your chin, and your eyes shot right back open. Instead of the whiskey colored irises you had gotten used to, Aaron’s pupils were so blown that they made his eyes completely black. “I want to see you lose control all over me. Gonna make sure you come harder for me than you have for any of your boy toys.”

  That wouldn’t be very difficult. Nobody had ever made you feel the way you did then, Aaron’s fingers buried deep in your cunt and lips exploring every inch of skin he could access. No part of this was for his pleasure — from the curl of his fingers to the slow circles on your clit, it was all expertly calculated to bring you to the edge with as much intensity as possible, and it was all devastatingly effective.

  “I’m so close,” you whimpered, and if it weren’t for the wall behind you, you would have completely lost your balance. “More, fuck, please.”

  “More?” he mumbled against the column of your throat. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

  Coherent sentences were not an option for you at the moment, not when you were so deliciously overwhelmed with pleasure and with Aaron. Besides, how could you tell him that you wanted him to completely and utterly ruin you? That you wanted him to bend you over the conference table and pound into you until you could barely speak. You wanted Aaron to mark you and send you home to your fiance with reminders of every little thing he did to you for the days to come. You wanted raw and untamed passion. You wanted to be consumed, for him to settle in your lungs like smoke, and haunt your dreams for the rest of your life. 

  You didn’t want nice and calculated the way every other man you’d been with had acted — you wanted Aaron Hotchner to take control.

  You couldn't say any of that, so instead, you grabbed his wrist, the one that was holding your chin in place and, without breaking eye contact with him, you guided his hand down until it rested on your throat. “More,” you choked out, giving him an animalistic grin.

  That was all it took. Using his grip on your neck, he pulled you in for another kiss, messy and desperate and swallowing all of your incoherent moans as his fingers moved harder, faster.

  You clung to him like a lifeline as you felt your whole body tense up, your orgasm fast approaching. You were so fucking close and he felt so fucking good and, God, if this is what losing control felt like, then you and Aaron could do this forever and —

  His fingers were gone from you, and you clenched around nothing. You cried out in protest, which only seemed to amuse him.

  “Oh? Prom queen isn’t used to not getting what she wants?” Keeping his hand on your throat and you pinned against the wall, he made slow, teasing work of his belt buckle.

  Your chest rose and fell in a desperate attempt to catch your breath. “What happened to watching me come undone all over you?” you shot, trying to even out your voice as much as possible. It didn’t work very well. “Did you lose your nerve?”

   A dark, humorless chuckle escaped his lips. “Don’t worry, Princess, that’s still the plan. I just never said where. I want to make sure you’re nice and wet and ready for me to turn you into a moaning mess on my cock.”

  In an attempt to regain some control of the situation, you rolled your eyes. “Yeah? And how do you expect to do that?”

  He smirked and released your throat. Wordlessly, he grabbed your wrist, and guided your hand down your body, further and further until you reached your throbbing pussy. He used his hands to press your fingers to your clit, and you whimpered softly. God, you were dripping, and the extra stimulation didn’t help your shaking legs.

  “By making you so needy and whiny that by the end of this, you're begging for me,” he hissed, lips brushing the shell of your ear with every word. He moved your fingers so that you were rubbing small, slow circles around your clit, although it wasn’t nearly enough to give any real relief. “Begging for me to come and fuck you over and over and over again. Because you know that your pathetic fiance and your string of affairs have never made you feel like this before.”

  Aaron yanked your hand away from your clit and you could sob. You wanted to cum so badly that you could barely put it into words. Still holding your wrist, Aaron brought your hand up to his face. He took a brief moment to admire the way your fingers glistened, covered in your arousal, before bringing them to his lips and sucking.

  Eyes wide, you made a choked noise as you committed the view of Aaron to memory. “Please, Aaron, fuck, I need you,” you whined, the start of a long string of incoherent begging. You needed him then and there, damn the consequences.

  He pulled your fingers out of his mouth slowly, and you moaned at the obscene wet noise it made. “So desperate,” he murmured as he began to unbutton his slacks. “All for me. All because I edged you once.”

  Aaron pulled down his pants just enough to pull out his dick, and you licked your lips involuntarily when you saw it, big and thick and leaking precum. Clearly, it gave Aaron a bit of an ego boost, because as he ran the head up and down your sensitive folds, he reminded you, “You did say you could take anything, Princess.”

  Your breathing came out shaking as you shivered, waiting for him to do something — anything. You were so empty and you needed him so badly. If you didn’t get his dick in you soon, you were pretty sure you would lose your mind completely.

  “Fuck me, Aaron,” you moaned, arching your back to press into him more.

  He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips in an almost intimate gesture. “Patience is a virtue,” he chastised.

  In your haze of arousal, you barely noticed him grabbing your briefcase and digging through the small pocket in the front. You especially didn’t notice his pause when his finger touched something small, round, and metal in the bottom of the bag. The only thing you cared about was him coming back to you, holding up a condom packet with a smirk.

  “I knew I’d find one somewhere in your briefcase.” You let the comment slide, the excitement at the prospect of sex with Aaron Hotchner outweighing any jackass comment he could make. Aaron made quick work of putting on the condom. The second he was done, one of his hands ran up your thigh, getting a good grip on it before pulling it up and around his waist.

  “Do you feel how wet you are for me? How willing you were to give up control? All for me? That—” Lips pressed to your ear, he pushed his cock into you, bottoming out with one thrust. You threw your head back in pleasure. “—Is playing chess, sweetheart.”

  Aaron dropped his forehead to the crook of your neck as he began pounding into you at a desperate pace. He had held off on his own pleasure for long enough, and now he was chasing his orgasm with a ruthless determination. One hand stayed gripping your thigh, the other one braced against the wall next to your head. Aaron nipped at your neck in between moans of praise for you.

  “I — oh, fuck — knew it,” he groaned, digging his fingers deeper into your thigh. “You wanted somebody to take control. Somebody who knows how to please you.”

  You wrapped your arms around his neck and tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer to you. You were an incoherent mess at this point, his name tumbling from your lips like it was the only thing you knew how to say. At that moment, it probably was. 

  “Finally, that bratty mouth of yours is good for something. You sound so pretty, moaning out my name. Say it again.” A particularly deep thrust caused you to tug at his hair. “Louder.”

  Never before had you met somebody like Aaron Hotchner, and you weren’t sure if you ever would again, so you screwed your eyes shut and let yourself get lost in the absolute pleasure he was providing. You memorized everything you could — the way the calluses on his hands felt against your skin, the way he moaned out your name, how deliciously full you felt, and how for the first time in your life you felt truly seen — so that you could suspend the moment in amber to preserve in the back of your mind.

  “Please,” you begged, scratching his scalp lightly with your nails. “I’m so close. Fuck, Aaron, you feel so good, please.”

  Aaron tore his lips from your throat, choosing instead to press his forehead against yours. His lips brushed yours with every word he spoke, so close that you were practically kissing him. “That’s it, princess,” he murmured. “Be a good girl. Be a good girl and come. All over my dick.”

  When you came, it was with a cry of his name as your whole body shuddered. You clung to him as he continued to fuck you. His thrusts began to stutter, and he took the opportunity to capture your lips in one last, scorching kiss, and you were all too happy to oblige.

  You think he moaned something as he came, but you couldn’t hear it over the sounds of skin slapping against skin. He fucked you through his orgasm, making sure that you felt every single inch of him. As if you could ever forget it. 

  The two of you stayed where you were for a few moments, relishing in the feeling of being full a little longer. Your walls fluttered around Aaron, which caused him to muffle his whimpers into your throat.

  “Aaron…” you whispered, not wanting to disturb the moment. “That was so—”

  “I know.”

  “We shouldn’t have done it.”

  “I know.” He pulled back just enough to leave a lingering kiss on your lips, and your whole body burned. “But I don’t regret it. Do you?”

  You shook your head. “Not at all.” The confession lingered in the hair for a tense second because both of you seemed to remember where you were.

  Aaron slowly pulled out of you, an act that looked almost painful for him when you let out an involuntary moan at the feeling. He could have spent all day in you, if given the chance.

  The two of you adjusted yourselves in silence, both of you hoping to be able to leave the room with some semblance of professionalism. At the very least, the goal was to not look like you had just had sex in a courthouse conference room. Shame and embarrassment flooded you — what had you been thinking?

  Once you felt that you were presentable enough, you grabbed your briefcase and tried to ignore Aaron burning a hole in the back of your head with his gaze.

  “Well, Aaron, this was fun.” You cleared your throat. “I’m sure we’ll see each other around at some point.”

  You were two steps away from the door when you heard his smug, courthouse voice come back in full swing.

  “Forgetting something?”

  You turned around in a huff, ready to go right back to arguing with him, but what you saw made your whole body heat up in embarrassment. There was Aaron with a self-satisfied grin and dangling off his finger was your panties.

  “These are cute,” he mused. “It’s a shame I didn’t get to fully appreciate them.”

  You rushed over there, fully prepared to snatch them out of his hand. “And you never will,” you shot, but even as you said it, you didn’t make much of an effort to take them out of his hands. You just stared at him and his swollen lips and mussed hair, all your doing.

  Ever the gentleman, Aaron started to hand your underwear back to you, but instead of taking it back like you knew you should have done, you covered his hand with yours, closing it in a fist around your panties.

  “Who says you can’t?” you whispered, guiding his pantie-filled hand down to his pockets. “This way… You can keep it as collateral. To make sure I’ll come and see you again.”

  His breath hitched in his throat as you guided him to put your panties into his suit pocket, and you were glad to be the one surprising him this time.

  “I don’t care about your fiance,” Aaron started, and you braced yourself for the worse. “But I’m not interested in being the ‘other man’ to your affairs with your assistants, too.”

  “Consider it ended,” you promised, not caring how desperate or easy it made you look. You wanted to keep Aaron around for a long, long time.

  Just until the wedding, you corrected yourself.

  You slung your briefcase over your shoulder, wincing as it dug into a bruise that Aaron had left. It would be there for a while — you’d have to find a way to hide it from Tony until it faded. The thought made you stupidly giddy. “I’ll see you around, Aaron.”

  He nodded in goodbye, and you slipped out of the conference room on shaking legs. As soon as the door closed behind you, you reached into your bag, and reluctantly slipped on your engagement ring.

#aaron hotchner fanfiction #Aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner smut #criminal minds fanfic #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #my writing #criminal minds

[hufflepuffsthunderdome]

Hopelessly Devoted to You | R.L

Pairing: Marauders!Remus Lupin x Female Reader

Warnings: None :)

Words: 3,200

Request: @risingtripletaurus​ hi lovey! may i pretty please request a fic with the reader very much in the halloween spirit, celebrating halloween the marauders.. remus and the reader also lowkey have a crush on eachother rEMUS HOPES HE GETS ALL THE CHOCOLATE WHEN TRICK OR TREATING over all just a very fluffy time!

A/N: sorry this is so late, a lot has been happening in my personal life. I hope you enjoy! I took it in a slightly different direction that I hope you like anyway, it’s still a fluffy spooky time so I hope you enjoy. I really like this one :). I also have an idea for a part two so keep an eye out... also I know that Grease technically came out after the Marauders were at Hogwarts, I just thought it was cute anyway.

Summary: Reader and Remus are crushing hard, and what better way than an accidental couples costume and a Halloween party to get the pair together

Y/N and Sirius came bounding through the doors to the Gryffindor common room with so much force Peter grimaced as the walls shook around them. Their hands were loaded with boxes, overflowing with black and orange decorations, cheap spiders and what seems like an insane match of costumes and clothes. It wasn’t even the start of October, but whenever the season rolled around even slight, Y/N and Sirius went all out! For the pair, it seemed that they were built for the season, putting care and thought into their costumes and the treats they would make everyone; their energy infections, getting everyone else in the school hyped for the spooky season months in advance. 

Even Remus let himself loose around the Halloween season, knowing how happy it made Y/N when he would join in on the corny games that she and Sirius worked so hard to make. And he lived to make Y/N happy; to see that goofy smile that she would give him as she looked up at the lanky boy, melting his heart even more around Halloween when she would be dressed in an adorable hand made costume. 

His friends all knew, about Remus’s crush on Y/N. Honestly, it seemed that everyone in the whole school knew that the boy was smitten except Y/N, they just strolled around the castle, unaware of the boys lingering stares and wistful glances. He had a plan though, to change that. Well, Sirius and James had a plan. A plan that he wasn’t privy to despite being a leading role in it. 

Sirius dumped the box onto the couch next to James, who was prying the lid open before it even landed, to pear inside. He pulled out all sorts of different costumes, Y/N’s box joining next to it, Gryffindor written in scratchy writing on the side, full of decorations and gags to put up around the common room. 

“Sirius,” James laughs, pulling out a tight black off the shoulder top, “you’d look great in this mate but it’s a stretch to think it’ll fit you.”

Y/N rolls their eyes, taking it out of James’s hand and holding it up to their smaller frame, “it’s mine you nit.” 

Sirius comes up behind Y/N and slings an arm over her shoulder, “we’re doing a couple’s costume this year.” The pair struck a cheesy Charlie’s angels style pose as they giggle. Remus knows it’s stupid but he can’t help the hot feeling boiling in his stomach at how close Sirius and Y/N are. He knows it’s stupid, he has no reason to be jealous; Sirius knows that Remus likes Y/N, and he knows they’re just friends, but he can’t help it. He wants to be the one to make Y/N laugh, to be able to sling an arm around her without making a fool of himself, to be able to do cute couple costumes that Y/N is excited to make. 

“What are you going as?” Peter’s voice breaks Remus’s train of thought, the shorter boy hanging over the back of the couch to rummage through the box himself. He pulls out a pirate hat and an eyepatch, laughing slightly as he puts them next to him. 

“We’re going as Sandy and Danny from Grease,” Sirius says, shooting James a look that he just returns with a nod, sending me a glance as he smirks slightly. 

“I’m so excited to do it,” Y/N chimes, reaching a hand up to grab onto Sirius’s arm slightly before turning back to us with a wide smile on her face, “It’s that muggle musical I was telling you about, the one set in the 50s. We’re going as the two main characters!”

James gets up from his seat on the couch behind Y/N, walking over to the pair and placing his arms around them, “I thought you were gonna do a costume with me this year Black? We’ve been working on it for months.”

With an exaggerated hand to the forehead, Sirius lets out an exasperated sigh, “shit that’s right James, fuck I’m sorry mate. We’re gonna have to save our amazing surprise costume for next year, I promised Y/N.”

“You guys were working on a costume?” Y/N asks, looking at the boys on either side of her as they nod. Remus can tell she’s slightly upset at the thought of not doing her costume she had planned but is hiding it with her excitement at her friends getting into the holiday. “That’s so cool guys, please do it! I want to see what you guys have planned.”

“But what about your costume?”

“That’s ok,” she smiles warmly back, “I have plenty of other ideas.”

“I feel super bad now,” Sirius brings Y/N into a hug to which the girl giggles and assures him it’s ok. Over Y/N shoulder he shoots Remus a wink, the boys' eyes going wide at the thought of what his friends are up to, “say, Remus is around my size isn’t he?”

All eyes in the room turn to Remus, and he feels his face heat up at the attention, glancing down at his book, “not happening.”

“Come on mate,” Sirius and James chorus, James throwing an arm around Y/N and sarcastically patting their head, adding “you don’t wanna make little Y/N sad do you?”

“Come on guys,” Y/N chuckles, slinking away under James grasp and looking over to Remus, “he doesn’t have to if he doesn’t want to.” James and Sirius's glare daggers over Y/N’s shoulder at the boy sitting on the couch, Peter going to say something James shutting him down with a stern look before he can even get a sound out. It seems that the boys are able to have a conversation without saying a single word, ‘dude come on don't be a baby,’ James’s look taunts, Sirius’s glare telling him to not lose his chance. 

“I-I’d love to d-do the costume with you Y/N.” Remus grimaces slightly at his nervous stuttering, grinning at Y/N as they bound over to him excitedly, thanking him as she pulls him into a hug. The boy freezes for a moment, before relaxing in the shorter girls grasp and returning the hug. The pair stood there, enjoying the small moment, for slightly longer than they probably should have; as their friends just looked on smirking and chuckling to themselves as the two teens were so obliviously in love with each other. James coughed obnoxiously, breaking the pair out of their hug as they pulled apart, faces red as they smiled shyly at each other.

“Well I think I need to get going,” Y/N smiled up at the boys, ruffling Peter’s hair slightly as she walked past him, grabbing a box labelled Hufflepuff that she had placed on the floor earlier, “those Hufflepuff’s won't help themselves.” She turns and walks towards the door to the common room, turning back to Remus to smile at him and thank him one last time before she was out the door, and once again on a mission about the castle.

The instant she was gone the common room erupted into cheers, as Sirius and James loudly hollered in excitement for Remus; Peter joining in soon after, confused as to what was happening but feeling left out that he wasn’t involved. Remus however was unamused, arms crossed in front of his chest as he glared at his friends, eyebrow raised as if daring them to speak.

The cheering stopped when Sirius and James noticed Remus’ upset attitude, Peter once again joining in and stopping, mumbling a small what’s happening to Sirius who brushed him off. “Oh come on mate,” James argued, mimicking Remus’ posture but with a smirk plastered on his face, “how are you possibly upset with us?”

Remus was gobsmacked at James’ question, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water as he looked at his friends trying to find the words to convey how stupid they were, “you lied to her that’s how! You got her hopes up when you knew you weren’t going to go with her. And you dragged me into your bullshit once again.”

“Oh come on mate, it’s not like that,” Sirius chimed in, trying to calm the tension forming. Leading Remus over to the couch he sat both of them down, slinging an arm over his shoulder, “besides, she was way more excited at you saying you’d go with her than she was when she brought it up to me in the first place.”

“That’s not true.”

“It so is,” Sirius argued back, “now stop being a fucking baby and grow some balls. It’ll be a great night.”

“If you’ll excuse me, lads,” James mutters, standing up from the seat he was on and heading towards the door, “but I need to catch Lily before she makes it to the library. Anyone joining?”

Sirius gets up and follows James, the pair out the door in an instant; and Peter, who is lagging behind, gets up to follow them, turning to Remus before he leaves, “don’t worry, it’s gonna be a wicked night.”

Remus can't help but chuckle slightly at Peter’s excitement, his head still swirling and his heart still racing, even after his friends leave.

The month was trekking on, October drawing to a close, much slower than Remus and Y/N would have liked. The closer it got to Halloween the more nervous excitement the two teens felt bubbling away. It was noticeable to their friends, as they would talk during break and pass each other in the hallway; both unbelievably ~excited and hopeful that the night would go how they want, and yet nervous. But that didn’t stop Y/N from getting in the festive spirit. She went all out this year, dragging along anyone and everyone that she could convince to help with her preparation. The whole school seemed to know that she was in a particularly festive mood this year, everyone in her year helping where they could, all the first years unbelievably excited over how amazing the castle looked.

As the talented young witch, she was, it was no surprise that Y/N was able to make some pretty amazing decorations. Pumpkins that would follow students around, glasses that made the teachers look like they were dressed up, the orange streamers and plastic spiders that would come to life when you walked past. Everyone was shocked by how all out Y/N was going this year, they knew she was talented, but not this talented. In the back of her mind though, Y/N knew she had to make this year perfect. 

Remus was confused when he walked down the corridors to potions one day, and the school seemed to be buzzing with excitement more than usual. Students everywhere were glancing around in excitement, peering over each other's shoulders to get a glimpse at the parchment they were all holding. As he walked up to potions class, surprisingly early for once, he heard a commotion behind him, and turned and saw Y/N and Sirius walking towards him, students around them clapping and patting them on the back in excitement. They made their way over to Remus, who was stood there seemingly entranced by Y/N. It was like she was glowing with excitement, and he couldn't help the dopy smile on his face at seeing her so happy. 

When the pair got to him Sirius pulled him into a headlock, rustling his hair slightly as he laughed, “we’re superstars we are,” he gleamed, letting go of the boy and putting an arm around Y/N’s shoulder, “everyone loves us.”

“Y/N I can understand people liking, but you?” Remus says, glancing at Y/N quickly to see her face going slightly pink, as he is doing too, at his bold comment. ‘haha lover boy,’ Sirius shoots back, but Remus isn’t listening as Y/N passes him a piece of parchment, notes from last potions class. They both go to say something when the door swings open and they are being summoned inside for class. 

The boys are back in their dorms, late in the evening now, Sirius and James gasbagging about Severus while Peter listens attentively, chewing on a sweet Y/N brought to the common room earlier. Remus is trying to read his herbology textbook, trying to take notes from class today, but his mind continues to wonder. To Y/N, to Halloween, to Sirius and Y/N's friendship, he’s all over the place. As his mind is racing he feels the heat in his shirt pocket start to warm up, shocking him out of his trance as he pulls out the bit of parchment Y/N handed him earlier. He never got a chance to ask her about it, she was being pulled in every direction that day, but as he looks down at the piece of paper, no longer homework but rather an invitation now. He feels his heart start to beat harder in his chest as he turns the sheet over, Y/N’s handwriting littering the page, 

“I’m so glad you decided to come, Remus, I was hoping you would. I can’t wait to see you, I’m really glad we’re doing a costume together.”

That night Remus goes to bed with a huge grin on his face, the happiest he’s felt in ages.

Halloween day comes and goes, much slower than the school would like. The teachers drone on in their usual lessons, their patience running thin at their student's erratic excitement. No one was more excited than Y/N. The second her last class finished she was off, grabbing her friends as she went and dragging everyone to the Ravenclaw common room, where she had made it clear would be open to anyone in dire need of a last-minute costume. In came students of every house and year and out walked clowns, mimes, zombies, princesses, anything and everything they could think of, hidden from the teachers by some simple spells. 

The boys were down at the room of requirements, decorating for the party to come; the room had transformed itself into a huge dance hall, and the boys were doing everything in their power to make it a spooky extravaganza. And they were succeeding. There were jack o'lantern, punch, sweets of every size and shape, every corner of the room decorated with spooky charmed decorations, and every ceiling adorning some spider or streamers. Peter had even thought of the idea to set up a trick or treating scavenger hunt for the younger students (and some of the older students too), so there were plenty of people already coming in and out collecting clues and sweets before they weren’t allowed to be wandering the halls anymore. 

It was immaculate, seeing the room come together because of his friend's hard work, but nothing could describe the awe he felt when Y/N walked in the room. By now there were people flooding in at a regular pace, but when he heard that soft voice call his name and turned to see her, his world seemed to stop. All he could do was stare, she looked gorgeous. Not that he didn't always think she looked gorgeous, but he couldn't help but think how happy she looked, completely encompassed by the holiday spirit. She looked beautiful in her costume, her hair big and curly, and the tight leather trousers and off the shoulder top complimenting her figure perfectly. She held her self with a confidence he had never seen in the girl before, and he was amazed. 

“This is brilliant Remus,” Y/N smiles up at him, grabbing his hand as she looks around, “you guys did an amazing job.”

Remus barely processes her words as his brain is already trying to put together his next sentence, “you look incredible.”

It caught Y/N off guard his compliment, he had never been so earnest and bold with her before, and the sentiment made her blush furiously, “you look great yourself.” The teens stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, when Sirius and James sauntered over to the pair, already on the verge of drunk, and started chiding them “there’s my favourite greaser couple.”

“Don't tell me this is your incredible costume?” 

Sirius was shirtless, a studded leather jacket and black glove the only attempt at a costume, giving him a Billy Idol vibe that both Y/N and Remus didn’t even know was intentional. James was more obviously dressed up, the mouse ears on his head giving him a very distinct, albeit lazy Micky Mouse appearance. They both just shrugged at the girl, going into a tirade of drunken excuses to which Y/N just rolled her eyes, “if it makes you feel better I only did this to match with Lily,” James slurs, “turns out they were lying to me and she's wearing some bloody antlers.”

“Dear god James you’re so thick sometimes,” Y/N shook her head, turning towards Remus, “wanna go dance?”

The pair made their way into the crowds of other people dancing, ignoring James’ shouts of questions. 

The night went on, and the people kept dancing, chatting and spinning and laughing at how much fun they were having; all through the night people would come up and compliment Y/N on the party, and never once did she take full credit, always saying how much other people helped her. As the pair stood there, laughing with their friends as they danced to the ending of the monster mash, it slowly faded and didn't pick up again. A slow song began to play, and Remus looked over to see Sirius playing with the music, James giving him a thumbs up. 

Before Remus can say anything, Y/N is placing his hand on his arm, “wanna dance?” Despite both of their nerves, the pair danced together slowly, Remus’s arms around her waist, and Y/N’s around his shoulders. Both of them wanted to look at each other, to bask in how lovely they each looked but neither wanted to ruin the moment. 

Remus moved his head from where it was resting against Y/Ns, and she moved her head to look up at him, meeting that soft, goofy smile that sent her stomach tingling with butterflies. “you really do look lovely tonight, I’m so glad you asked me to come with you.”

Y/N barely knew what to say to him, it seemed that her body was moving on its own as their heads were slowly moving towards each other. “I’m glad you came with me,” she mumbled back before their lips finally connected. 

What seemed to be years in the making was finally happening, both teens dream coming true as their lips pressed softly together. All at once, Y/N felt her heart pounding in her chest, her mind racing at yet somehow, all she could focus on was Remus, and his lips pressed against hers. It seems that the world disappeared around them, as they stood there with each other. Nothing mattered right now except them.

They pulled apart sooner than they wanted to, both could've stayed there for eternity if they had the chance. They looked into each other's eyes, hoping their shared glance could give them all the words they failed to be able to say. It was a nice moment until James’s, Sirius’s and Peter’s hollers broke through the soft ambience of the crowd, everyone looking around confused, some even joining in as Remus and Y/N just laughed slightly at their friends' antics. 

“Do you wanna do Hogsmead with me this weekend?” Y/N asked softly, grinning up at the boy. 

He leaned down to connect their lips again softly, grinning when they pulled apart, “I would love to.” 

#Remus Lupin #remus lupin headcanons #grease 2 #the superior grease #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader #Harry Potter #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfiction #Harry Potter Smut #harry potter fluff #hogwarts #Marauders #marauders remus #requested #remus #hp #HP Fandom #hp fanfic #marauders fanfiction #haloween #grease

[bittersvgar]

Number 316

Just you having horns like schlatt, except yours bigger because you're a girl boss obviously.

Also their is some language here but not that much

Ewe-a female sheep

Dsmp x reader? Idk

__________________

You were always an independent person, challenging the rules of nature when you had the chance. Its how it got you here, becoming one of the most respected woman in your kingdom. Standing around 5'7 with the biggest horn people seen an ewe ever have, angering many males.

A knock was heard as you tried to sip your tea to calm down the headache happening, watching as your assistant came in timidly.

"Miss Y/n, sorry to disturb you but it seems you have another challenger."

You sighed, putting down your tea as you stood up to smooth out the wrinkles on your suit. "Tell them I'll be there in a minute."

Grabbing your gloves, you look your self in mirror, watching your scars move slightly as you flexed your hand. Placing the gloves on, you walked out of the big mansion you lived in, meeting the crowed that circled around someone.

The crowd separated to let you walk by, which means the closer you got, the clearer you saw your opponent. He was tall, you'll give him that. He was hunched over slightly, wobbling on his feet as he held a bottle of beer in his right hand. He had mutton chops that oddly suited him.

Two person seems to be holding him back, as if trying to convince him to back out, one having fox-like feature while the other had small wings on his back, that where slightly flapping as he tried to pull the ram back.

"I'm guessing your the challenger." You spoke, watching his pals let him go, giving up. The ram just eyed you down, looking at your figure that was shown from the suit you were wearing, which angered you slightly as he didn't even try to hide it. "My name is Y/n, a pleasure to meet you."

You took your hand out to shake, which the male quickly grabbed as he pulled you closer, squishing your bodies together. You tried to back up but he quickly place put hand on your waist, stopping you as he leaned forward.

"Pleasure is all mine."

Angered from his action you quickly pushed him back,causing him to trip, the stench of booze lingering around you, making your headache worst.

"Let's just get this over with." You said, nodding at your assistant who took her microphone.

"Ladies and gentleman! Ram and ewes! We are all gathered today to see another match for dominance! You all know the rules! Do not interfere or else you'll be greatly punished!"

She turned towards the Ram, asking for his name only to not get a response as he glared at you. One of his friends had to step in to tell her his name to continue.

"The challenger today is Schlatt vs our long time winner Y/n!" She showed the crowd an emerald before explaining, " The moment this emerald hits the ground the fight will commence! Now can the challenger please draw your weapon!"

Someone handed you your sword, who you thanked as you twirled it around.

"So what she can do some trick, big deal." Schlatt sneered at her before realising something. "Oh shit. Where the fuck is my weapon?"

He looked over at Fundy and Quackity who just shrugged.

"GIVE ME ONE OF YOU WEAPONS!"

"Are you ready!"

"NO! DOES IT LOOK LIKE IM READY!"

Quackity fumbled with his axe, trying to get it off his belt but he was to late.

"Go!"

Schlatt looked at you, who just stared back at him angrily. He chugged the rest of his beer, wiping his mouth before bringing the bottle up.

You just shooked your head before rushing at him, running towards the right, causing him to swing when you got close. Taking this opportunity, you quickly stopped before moving to the left, making Schlatt stumbled forward.

Taking pity on the man you took the hilt of your sword and slammed it on his back, causing Schlatt to fall on the ground face first with a thud, the glass bottle shattering in his hand leaving small but painful cuts.

"You bitch!"

He said, turning his body around, using his left hand to support his body weight only for you to hold the sword near his throat causing him to lean back to avoid being sliced.

"Admit defeat."

"Suck my dick." He spat, causing you to dig the sword on his shoulder, making his grunt in pain.

"Admit." You hissed, twisting the sword. "Defeat."

"Fine. FINE!" He yelled, grasping his shoulder when you took out your sword from his shoulder. "I LOST OK!

Your assistant smiled, bring the microphone to her lips as she cheered.

"THE WINNER IS Y/N!"

Many cheered, mostly ewes as many Rams in the crowd huffed in frustration.

You walked closer to the Schlatt, who was currently being attended by medics.

"What do you want."

You ignored him, your assistant handing you a saw, as squat down to grab one of his horns.

"Wait! WAIT! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!" He thrashed in the medic's grip who hold him down for this. His friends also being restrain from trying to interfere.

"My reward." You bluntly said, sawing off about an inch of his horn, giving the saw back to someone as you got up.

"I'll- I'LL KILL YOU!" He yelled, head hurting from the vibration of the horn being sawed off.

"Shut up, it's tradition." You said annoyed, grabbing his other un-injured horn as you turn his head to the crowd. "Besides, look at all the other Rams who tried." You whispered near his ear.

Many rams in the crowd had an inch of their horn taken off, some even had two inches off, meaning they tried to challenge twice only to not succeed.

"Their pride and joy sawed off. And do you know who has their horns."

You questioned him, tugging his horn when he didn't respond, causing his head the be yanked backwards.

"Me. So what makes you think you can kill me."

And with that you let go of his horn. Turning back to your house with a part of his horn in your hand.

'What is this? The 302?'

You thought, blandly staring at the shiny horn in your hands. You walked in your study, pushing a button, the reveal a wall behind the bookcase. The sound of your heels echoed as you walked, before you finally made in to your destination.

Hundreds of horns stood on the walls. Each horn having a name and number on them indicating the order you got them. With your first horn in a glass case, the name 'dad' written on a sign next to it.

You stared at that specific horn, angrily clenching your fist as you grabbed a sign, looking at the last horn number before writing on the sign.

You placed the horn on the wall before placing the sign right next to it.

Schlatt, Number 316

Okay but im kinda proud because i did this in like 2 hours. Also its not proofread so sorry for the mistakes.

#schlatt #x reader #mcyt x reader #dsmp #dsmp x y/n #dsmp x reader #quackity #fundy #mcyt #hybrid reader

[seabass17]

All that’s left | Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem! Reader

A/n: So, this is... a different reader in comparison from the one in the first part but I kinda like it? Anyway, Im considering making a third part and im thinking it'll contain some smut. I used google translator so please don't judge me. Tell me what you think. Happy reading.

All that's left pt. 1

Warnings: angst, mentions of scars, swearing, implied smut?

Word count: 3.263

Summary: After moving from her life in New York, away from the Avengers and him, she finds happiness and a life that she actually enjoys, but that seems to last little when she spots the familiar jet on the roof of the building she lives in. Is she ready to face them? To face him?

*Three months later*

The warm air surrounding my body made me take a deep breath and unconsciously smile. I was happy, I was free, I was whole. I was with my neighbor drinking coffee in our usual spot, which was a cafe near the main street of the place that I decided was going to become my new home.

“Продолжай рассказывать мне о своем боссе, который сводит тебя с ума” (Keep on telling me about your boss who drives you crazy) Andrei said making me laugh and shake my head.

“Не о чем говорить, он просто засранец, который дает мне слишком много работы и заставляет меня плакать” (Nothing to talk about, he's just an asshole who gives me too much work and makes me want to cry) I laughed. I had met Andrei a week after I moved in and there was an immediate connection. No, it wasn’t in a romantic one, god no, we were just really good friends that had a lot in common.

“Now now, that was not what i saw the other day when i went to pick you up from work” He said with a playful smirk plastered on his light brown face. I gasped, a fake indignant expression on my face while my hand went to my chest. He laughed loudly. “Don’t play that card, I saw you!” he added

“I don’t know what you are talking about” I said, trying to fight the smile that tried to come out but failing miserably, we both laughed.

He and I had become quite close in the little time that we had known each other. He was an American with a Russian name. He explained that his mother was from the states while his father was a russian spy, they fell in love against all odds and eventually, Andrei was brought to this world. When he was fifteen his father died and he and his mom went to America, where he finished high school and surprisingly, entered the military. He did two tours before he decided that he had enough and returned to Russia. Hence why he could speak both Russian and English fluently. As for me, I told him that I was in some sort of organization that worked for the government, and that’s why I knew russian. He believed me, thank God,  I didn’t want to talk about how I was part of the Avengers and why I left. Obviously I will tell him when the time is right and I know that he can be fully trusted.

“Oh, come on Ames, are you going to tell me that you don’t like him one bit? Not in the slightest?” he asked, smiling and I shook my head. He stayed silent for a second and stared at me, like he was considering whether he should ask me something or keep quiet. “Is it because of him?” he finally asked, watching me closely to see my reaction. I felt my stomach twist at the mention of him. Of course it was because of him, because of them, I couldn’t afford getting hurt and betrayed one more time. Andrei didn’t know his name, or theirs for that matter, so I smiled weakly and nodded.

“Yeah, I know it sounds stupid but… I just can’t afford getting hurt, not again, not anymore” I said looking at my hands.

“I understand, believe me I do” he said, his hand reaching out to hold mine. I looked up to find his brown eyes looking for mine, I saw nothing but genuine love -the friendly kind- in them. I smiled and squeezed his hand. He was going to say something but his phone rang; a notification. He withdrew his hand to look at his phone and the moment he did, people around us started getting up and running in the same direction. I looked at him confused to find him frowning at his phone.

“What is it?” i asked.

“The Avengers are here…” He said and my heart skipped a beat and my body went rigid. Andrei noticed. “What 's wrong?”. Well, there’s no use keeping him from the truth anymore.

“So, remember when I told you that I worked for an organization for the government? Okay don’t freak out and hate me but, here it goes” I took a deep breath. “That organization was called The Red Room were they trained me from a very young age to be a perfect cold-blooded killer, years later i escaped and was on the run until i got a new identification, name, address, new everything and then joined the avengers to amend the wrongs I made in the past. To my luck, it didn’t go great because it ended up breaking me the same way The Red Room did, so I left to find a fresh start and came here where I met you. Please don’t hate me” I concluded in one breath. Andrei was silent with a straight face, which was hard to read, and eventually after a few seconds that felt like an eternity and shrugged his shoulders. WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN.

“Believe it or not, I've heard worse” he simply said

“Worse than finding out that your best friend is a train killer and former avenger?” i asked incredulously and he tilted his head and smirked

“US Agent mother and Russian spy father” He said. I laughed and he followed right after. “So, I'm guessing we are running away?” he asked. Say what now?

“We?” I asked, almost in shock to which he simply nodded, “You don’t think im just gonna let you go like that, please, is not that easy to get rid of me” he snorted. “And I'm supposing Amelia is not your real name either, given the fact that you ran off,” he added. Damn, he is good.

“Y/n, y/n y/l/n” I said and he slowly smiled

“Well y/n, nice to meet you, my name is Andrei Petrova” he said, extending his hand, i repeated his action with the same smile. “I’ve got to say, I like the name y/n more than Amelia '' he added and laughed. We were brought back to the matter at hand when the screaming of the people were getting louder. I snapped my head up and saw the familiar jet on the roof of the building where I was living.

“Here’s what we are going to do, I’m going to my apartment and buy us some time while you go get a car and,” i handed him my card “you are going to get all the money from my bank account. I will meet you in front of the cafe that’s two blocks away from my place”

“Are you going to be okay?” He asked with clear worry in his eyes. I smiled and nodded

“Yes, I promised. Now go” I said before he got up and ran. I sighed and went to my apartment. Was I really going to do this? After months, was I ready to face them, already knowing the truth? Well, guess I'm going to find out.

Once in the building I decided to programmed the lights to go out in 50 minutes and then I went to the elevator, wanting to appear as normal as possible even though I felt like my heart was going to explode from how fast it was beating inside my rib cage. When the elevator stopped at my floor I walked until I was standing in front of my door. I didn’t need to wait and confirm, I knew they knew I was here, now there’s only one thing left to do. But before I did anything, the door creaked open.

*10 hours earlier*

Bucky paced from one side to the other, finding himself incapable of staying put. Natasha sat silently on her chair, Tony was in the front with his head in between his hands, Steve was resting on the side of the wall looking at the floor, Bruce was just standing there holding his chin analyzing everyone in the room. Sam sat on the couch looking through his phone, Vision was sitting next to Wanda on the other couch, while Clint and Thor were sitting on the other chairs. Peter had some school stuff to deal with like the teenager that he was. They’ve been looking for her for the past three months, and about a week ago, a picture was found of someone that looked exactly like her, all except her hair that was a bit shorter and the color was different, but other than that, it was practically her.

Not wanting to get their hopes -or rather enthusiasm- up, they decided to look deeper and found out that the picture was taken a month ago in the city of Magadan located in Russia. They found out that before three months, the name Amelia Agapov, didn’t exist. The more they looked into it, the more they were convinced that it was her.

“The mission report from Agent Carter arrived, should i put it on the screen?” the voice of the AI filled the room. The team had been waiting for that report for days, the nerves of the question that lingered in the air ‘was it her?’ being present for that time only grew stronger as Stark asked FRIDAY to project the report on the screen.

Pictures were shown, most of them were about this woman buying in the market, having coffee with a guy, but there was one, where her face was looking straight into the lens of the camera, and it was that picture that left the people in the room absolutely rigid. It was her.

“We found her…” Tony said in a whisper. Everybody kept their gaze on the picture on the big screen. After months looking for her, they finally had found her. To everyone, it was like someone just discovered something new, a kind of relief and anxiety all at the same time.

“Suit up, we’re going to get her” Steve said to the group, but see, it was the choice of words from Cap that Bucky found unsettling.

“Get her? Like she is some kind of criminal?” he said, looking at his best friend dead in the eye. Steve opened his mouth to say something but Tony beat him to it.

“She was trained by The Red Room to be an assassin, we can expect nothing more from her '' He said, trying to calm Bucky down, but instead it only caused him to get angrier, and not only him.

“So was I” Natasha said, her voice low that could scare anyone to the bone if they weren’t so used to her.

"It's different" Tony said

“How is it different?” Wanda said this time, “It wasn’t when you practically recluded me after I helped Ultron and tried to kill you all” she added.

Tony sighed and looked down, realizing that he might be overreacting.

“Let’s just get suit up and get on with it” Steve said, cutting the rather awkward silence that filled the room.

The avengers were suit up and on the quinjet in less that forty-five minutes, and they were in Madagan in nine hours, it took them an hour to find her building, and once they found it, Clint landed the jet on the roof and they all got out and looked for her apartment. Funny enough, it was the same number as the one she used to live in New York; 108. They waited for what seemed an eternity until they heard footsteps just outside the door. Suddenly, the air felt thick with anticipation, but Bucky couldn’t wait any longer so he crossed the living room in two steps and opened the door. She was standing there. Silence took over the entire apartment until she broke it.

“Well, are you going to move so that I can get inside my goddamn apartment Barnes?” she said expectantly. Bucky realized that he had been staring at her since he opened the door. Her hair was different, more wavy and a shade or two lighter. He moved to the side and she was able to see the rest of the team. This was going to be one hell of an evening.

Breathe. In… and out…

It was hard. Fuck. Okay i can do this.

“Well isn’t this nice. All the team back together again!” I said with sarcasm dripping from every letter.

“What the hell did we ever do to you?” Steve said firmly.

“Damn, getting straight into it. That’s okay” i shrugged as I went to my room but the sound of the blasters of Tony's suit stopped me.

“Stop, don’t take another step” He said, lifting his hands and I smiled.

“Really? Well unfortunately i have to change, so i’ll leave the door open if it makes you comfortable” i said as i continued to walk to my room, and like I said, i left the door open.

“Y-you don’t have to do that, you can…” Wanda said but trailed off. I had taken my shirt off; my scars were shown.

“So, Steve” I broke the silence as I put on a black shirt, “the thing that you did wasn’t as bad as tin man over there, but you still let Hydra take me the day we took out the helicaries” i added. His face got pale and started shaking his head.

“What? No, you made it out safe, you-” He started saying but i interrupted him

“You sure? Who do you think stopped Rumlow when he tried to interfere with the exchange of the chip when you were in the helicarrier with Bucky?” He started thinking for a moment until he realized what I said fell into place. “Yeah, I took one hell of a beating, and if that wasn’t enough, I fell to the water. I fell thirty floors down, and I alone got myself out, because I didn't have anyone to cover me or have my back” i concluded.

“Your scars…” Tony said this time and i turned to him

“Yeah, thanks to you Mr. Stark” i said and he looked at me. “Doctor said that 74% of my body is covered with scars, along with one or two burns”

“You were that girl in The Red Room” Natasha said, causing me to turn my head to look at her and I smiled cynically, “You are Eliza” she finished.

“Давно не виделись с Натальей” (Long time no see Natalia) i said and she looked at me in pure surprise in her faced. That’s something coming from the famous Black Widow.

“What about the rest of us y/n?”  Sam said this time, redirecting my attention from Natasha to the rest of the group. Thor was standing there holding his hammer, Bruce was next to the fridge, Clint was by the sink, Wanda was with Vision beside the kitchen table and Bucky was by the door. They were all looking at me. I took a look at the clock, I have to leave in less than thirty minutes.

“Long story short, Clint, Bruce, Sam, Wanda and Vision are the ones that didn’t do anything, so just chill out, you are still on my good side” I smiled and waved my hand.

“Hold on, but what did I do?” Thor asked and I looked at him.

“God it really is unfair how such a little thing can cause such a big problem. The first time you came down to earth, met Jane, bla bla bla… when her stuff was under custody of shield, and you took that notebook; they blamed me. I know it may seem weird because, how? Thing is, I was undercover at that time inside Shield, so when the notebook disappeared, guess who was the one that got beaten for it. I couldn’t move from the pain.”

Thor was standing completely still.

“Lady y/n…”

“How is it possible? I was there  and never saw you” Clint interrupted Thor.

“It was before the avengers, i was on the run and a girl's gotta eat. Don’t worry, I never gave them anything. Got the money and then killed them, they were nobodies” I shrugged off.

“So, that’s all you needed to know, so if you please leave my…” I said but then he interrupted me.

“No” I would be lying if I said it didn’t send shivers down my spine at his tone, and I hate even more that he noticed it. “You’re missing one doll” Well fuck me

I turned to see him and he was walking painfully slow towards me and I was praying for my legs to not give out.

“Barnes” I simply said, thanking God and all the saints that it didn’t come out as a whimper. I took a look at the clock once more. I have to leave. Now. “Such a shame, wish you had fought for us, I would have gone through hell and back for you, Buck” his eyes were looking straight to my own and I felt like he was staring at my bare soul. In a way, he was. I smiled and I saw behind my back that the team was looking at us, we’ve never been this close, not in public anyway. I standed on my tiptoes and reached for his right ear, he instinctively reached down so it was a bit easier for me.

“If you want to know, you’ll have to find me first дорогой” (Sweetheart) I whisper. Next thing, the light went out just like I programmed it to and I slid beside Bucky to reach out to the door and to the hall. I could hear the team screaming ‘what the hell just happened’. I ran to the emergency stairs, and once out I could still feel him behind me, getting close. I went into an alley, having to detour, knowing that he eventually was going to catch up to me and I couldn't have him follow where I was really going. A few seconds later, I felt him caging me to the wall on the alley, both of us breathing heavily. His flesh hand went to my throat and his metal one rested on the wall.

“Given a different occasion, I would have loved this, don’t get me wrong, I still love how you…”

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked huskily and I smiled.

“I told you, you’ll have to wait until you find me again. Alone.” i said

“Come on Barnes, do you really think that the charade of being your personal fuck toy would last forever?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It wasn’t like that, i…” he said but trailed off. The pain in my chest starting and clenching my heart.

“There it is…” i said lowly, the hurt in my voice evident, “listen, i’d love to keep talking about how you used me, but like i said,” i got close to his face, my nose touching his, “find me to found out” after that,  I raised my knee kicking him right in between his legs.

He let out a pained groan and fell to the floor, causing his grip in my neck to give out. I took advantage and ran. Two blocks away, I saw Andrei. When he saw me running to him, he immediately got in the car and turned the engine on, then I got in.

“Drive, fast” it was the first thing i said

“Where?” he asked while we took off. I smiled and looked at him

“You’ll see”

-

-

-

Taglist

@silentkiller2374 @vikingqueenlove @girlfriday007 @supraveng

#avengers #bucky x reader #steve x bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes angst #steve rogers #natasha romonova #tony stark #the red room #wanda maximoff #marvel #imagines #hydra

[violetlilysunshine]

No More Secrets

Boyfriend Harry Holland x Actress Reader

Summary: Harry finds out about a history between you and Tom, making him doubt himself and your relationship.

WC: 2,486

Warnings: a little bit angsty, kinda sad for a second, swearing, mentions of sex, mostly fluff 

A/N: I like to put the “keep reading” bar on all my posts (not just 18+) because I prefer it that way on mobile, if y’all don’t like it, let me know!!

MASTERLIST

Somehow, Harry had convinced you to go on a camping trip with Tom, Sam, and Harrison. You, not being the outdoorsy type because bugs, agreed and now here you were in the woods trying to set up a tent with Harrison. 

“No, it goes this way, Y/N,” Harrison barked at you in exasperation. 

“Well, that’s not what the picture looks like, Harrison,” you sassed back. 

“Well, I don’t care what the picture looks like!” he argued back before Harry came over to help you out.

“Why don’t you go help Tom unload the kitchen stuff, darling, and I’ll handle this,” he spoke against your ear, gently wrapping his arms around your waist and placing a short kiss to your temple. 

“Yeah, alright,” you answered breathily, slipping out of his grasp and walking back towards the cars.

“Alright, how do we do this?” Harry questioned Harrison.

“Mate, I have no idea, she was the only one reading the directions,” he answered. 

“Then why were you yelling at her!?”

“Because I’m sure my way will work just fine!”

“Well, she knows what she’s doing! She’s always right!”

“Just because she’s your girlfriend, mate, doesn’t mean she’s always right.”

Harry glanced down at the instruction manual laying on the ground at his feet, then glanced back at the tent in his hands. “Well, in this case she was,” he said shoving the manual in Harrison’s face before pulling the poles out of the tent to start over. 

“Ugh,” Harrison groaned, “this is going to take forever!” 

~~~~~~~~~

After dinner, so graciously cooked by Sam, you were gathered around the fire pit, under the stars. You were cuddled in Harry’s lap, sharing a blanket while everyone else was situated in their own chairs; yours had become the snack chair - featuring the s’mores supplies. 

You were all slightly tipsy, having cleared through the single case of beer you’d packed. The boys were arguing about who would have to go into town the next day to get more, not that you cared. You were content being sober, never having been a big drinker.

Harry wasn’t paying much mind to the conversation either. Instead he was focused on your fingers tracing patterns on his thigh, your hair tied up in a bun to avoid a marshmallow-chocolate catastrophe, and the way the firelight lit up your cheeks. 

You glanced down at him sweetly, feeling his eyes lingering on you. You breathed deeply before asking, “what’s up, bub?” 

“Nothing, babe, just looking at you,” he answered.

“Like what you see?” you asked cheekily, chuckling lightly.

“Oh yeah,” he answered quickly, “how did I ever get a girl like you?”

“I don’t know, Holland,” you answered, laughing breathily once more and planting a kiss on his lips.

“Would you two knock it off?” Harrison groaned from across the fire, “no one wants to see that!”

You pulled back and chuckled, slightly embarrassed because you weren’t used to attention like this. You’d hardly spent time with these boys as a group, mainly opting for solo-time with Harry.  

“Oh leave ‘em alone,” Tom answered quickly, “I think it’s cute.” 

“Yeah, only because you didn’t want her,” Harrison grumbled out, much louder than he’d anticipated. 

“What?” Harry piped up quickly. 

“Oh no,” Sam sighed, knowing the full story, and the secret you’d vowed to keep from Harry.

You had met Tom on a red carpet once upon a time, greeting him quickly before being ushered off to the next interview. You didn’t think anything would come of it, but hoped that you’d cross paths again another day. To your delight, you did on your next project. 

You ended up filming a small movie with the Russo Brothers and Tom came to set for a few days to visit them. The two of you “reconnected” and ended up getting on pretty well, hanging out casually while he was around.

The night before he left, the two of you had a night in at your apartment; you had take out together and watched a movie, during which you had gravitated closer together. You were talking a little and felt the smallest spark in the room. The two of you were looking at each other, a pause settled in the conversation. He glanced down at your lips, and you at his. In this moment, you silently agreed that you wanted to try something more. He leaned in and pressed a sweet, short kiss to your lips. You didn’t feel anything and neither did he. He pulled away and let out a breath. The both of you agreed that it didn’t feel like anything; not that it was a bad kiss, but it didn’t set either of your hearts on fire. 

After that you agreed to stay friends, keeping things simple, and nothing more ever came of it. You didn’t know that he’d told any of his friends, as you’d never told anyone yourself. If you were ever asked about your relationship with Tom, you always said something along the lines of, “it’s just not like that.”

A few months later, you and Tom ended up in Atlanta; he was filming Spider-Man and you were working on another project. This time he had Harry with him, who you got to meet. Instantly, something sparked between the two of you. You ended up hanging with Harry a lot on this trip; the two of you found ways to be alone together, even if you’d started the night out as a group with other friends.

Quickly, you and Harry built a relationship; everything with him felt easy, comfortable, harmonious. One night, you were bar hopping with the gang, Harry and you leading the pack, and Harry kept bumping his arm against yours. You got the hint, and let him tangle your fingers together, very much like the Far From Home airport scene with Peter and MJ. Things progressed from there with more time being spent together and quite a few dates. A few weeks later, you slipped up introducing him to one of your friends, calling him your boyfriend when you’d hadn’t had that talk yet; but he was smooth, instantly reaching his hand out saying, “yeah, I’m her boyfriend, nice to meet you,” before winking at you and cooling the blush rising to your cheeks.

Now here you were a year later, and your secret from oh so long ago was about to come out. You wanted to tell him about your kiss with Tom, but didn’t want to hurt him or make him doubtful of your relationship, so you let it slide. Not worrying about it and just letting life happen.

You immediately looked at Tom, knowing what Harrison was referring to, now also knowing that Tom had told people. You weren’t mad at him for this, but obviously everyone knew that Harry didn’t know, and should’ve been keeping their mouths shut.

Harry had always been a little beaten down; he felt he was living in Tom’s shadow and thought that girls wanted Tom more than him. Meeting you was different, you seemed to see him. He never thought that you and Tom might’ve had something before he came along.

Silence passed between you all, no one willing to break the tension except Harry.

“What did you say, Harrison?” 

“Nothing, I didn’t mean anything,” Harrison quickly stuttered out.

“No, you said that Tom didn’t want Y/N. What does that mean?” He questioned, looking at Tom first and then up at you.

You blinked quickly, eyes locked with Tom, urging him to speak. Thankfully he got the message, “Y/N and I sort of kissed once. It was nothing, just a peck.”

“You..... you what?” Harry asked, his face falling as you turned to look at him quickly. You pressed your hands to his cheeks trying to make him listen to your explanation as you began to sputter, “it was nothing,” and, “it didn’t mean anything.”

Harry nudged you off of his lap and stood up before stalking off to your shared tent.

You looked over at Tom, to which he quickly whispered a “sorry,” his face softening at you as well, before you locked eyes with Harrison sternly. 

“What the fuck was that about?” You seethed at him. He knew he messed up and he was genuinely sorry, but right now in this moment there was no fixing it with you so he chose not to say anything at all. His eyes looked remorseful; deep down you knew he was sorry and that he wouldn’t do anything to break up you and Harry, but he had really messed up. 

You turned around and began to walk slowly to the tent, wanting to give Harry a little time to cool off before you tried to explain. When you made it to the entrance, you slowly unzipped it and found him laying on top of the sleeping bag with his arm thrown over his eyes.

“Bubba?” you asked quietly, not wanting to push him too far, but desperately wanting him to speak to you. 

He sighed deeply. You knew he’d heard you and that he was processing, so you sat down next to him quietly, waiting for him to come to you. Tears started to well up in your eyes because you hated hurting him and you didn’t want to lose him. 

He slowly sat up and removed his arm from his face. He turned towards you and looked into your bloodshot eyes; his were red too and he already had streaks of tears down his cheeks. 

“Yes, darling?” He asked; he wanted to hear what you had to say. He didn’t want to lead the conversation yet, hell, he wasn’t sure he was even ready to have it. 

“Bubba, it didn’t mean anything. I promise. It was so long ago,” you breathed out, not really knowing where to start. You’d been so focused on him that you didn’t think about what you were going to say.

“What happened exactly?” he asked lowly, wanting to know the whole story. 

“Well, he visited the Russo Brothers on our set and we hung out and then thought maybe we could be more and kissed once. It didn’t even last a second and it didn’t feel like anything and I don’t want him at all. He doesn’t want me. We agreed that it was nothing and I didn’t even know that Harrison and Sam knew and I’m so so sorry I didn’t tell you. I know how much it hurts to find out this way,” you quickly rambled out. 

“When?” 

“A long time ago. Before Atlanta. Before we met,” you stuttered out.

He looked up at the roof of the tent, breathing deeply. He felt like sloppy seconds. 

“You couldn’t land him, so you came to me?” he spoke into the sky.

“Not at all,” you hurried out as you clambered over to him and straddled his lap, grabbing his cheeks and bringing his face down to meet yours, “I don't want him. There’s nothing between us, we’re just friends, you know that.” 

You paused, giving him time to add something if he wanted. You breathed for a few seconds before continuing, “I know that you feel like you live in his shadow, but trust me when I say that when I saw you, my world shined a little brighter. You’re not in the shadow with me at all, baby,” you whispered to him, both of you now crying heavily.

You peppered little kisses on his chin as you continued, “I looked past Tom and saw you, Harry. It’s always been you,” your voice breaking. 

“But you could have had him, why would you ever want me?” He questioned insecurely.

“Because you’re you, bub. You’re different people. You see me as I am. You appreciate me. You’re an incredible person with the kindest heart. You’re an amazing human being. You care for people so much. You’re an amazing photographer and you’re gong to make an amazing director someday. Hell, you already are with Roses for Lily,” you breathed quickly, squeezing his cheeks a little tighter, trying to make him believe you. “God, Har, I love you so much, it hurts,” you added before thinking.

You pulled away quickly, your tears stopping and eyes widening immediately. His widened as well, neither of you had said that yet.

Your brain kicked into high gear, immediately trying to talk your way out of it, but no words were coming to your mind so you were left stuttering a series of “um,” and “I didn’t mean to say that” and “what I meant was,” before he cut you off.

“I love you, too,” he said simply. 

“Yeah?” you breathed out.

“Yeah,” he said before gently grabbing your waist and pulling you forward to connect your lips. 

After separating after a few seconds, you asked him, “does this mean we’re okay?”

“Yeah, love, we’re okay,” he answered, calling you ‘love’ for the first time. Your heart beat a little faster at that before he added, “I just wish you would’ve told me sooner.”

“I wanted to, babe, but I didn’t want to hurt you, especially when it was nothing.”

“I understand that, darling,” he breathed out, “but no more secrets.”

“No more secrets,” you answered before kissing him again.

He poured his whole heart into the kiss, wanting to show you just how much he loves you. Your tongues tangled for a while before he started to tug at your hips a little harder, trying to grind up into you. You felt him beginning to get hard and pulled back chuckling.

“I am not having sex with your brothers and best friend sitting right there.”

“They’re pretty far away, love,” he laughed, trying to pull you in with his charm, “I don’t think they’ll hear, but if they do, they’ll really know you’re mine,” he added peppering kisses down your neck and sucking on your sweet spot just above your collar bone. 

“Harrrrrrrrry,” you laughed out, pushing him away from your neck and pulling his face up to yours to plant a quick kiss on him, “no.”

“Later?” he asked cheekily, quirking up an eyebrow and smiling at you.

“Maybe, bubba,” you answer slowly, “if you’re lucky, very late tonight after we’re - and by we’re I mean I’m - sure everyone is asleep we can maybe go have sex in the car where no one will hear us.” 

He plants a kiss on the corner of your mouth before saying, “man I can’t wait for them to go to sleep tonight,” with a laugh and a final kiss to your lips. 

“C’mon tiger,” you say standing up and dragging him with you back to the group. 

“All better?” Tom asks quickly once the two of you came into view. He glances down at your entwined hands before smiling.

“All better,” you assure him settling back into Harry’s lap and pecking him quickly. 

~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Tagging @thegirlintheswivelchair because she heard all about this as it was being written (and she brought up the s’mores) xoxo

#harry holland #harry holland x reader #harry holland imagine #harry holland fluff #harry holland x female reader #harry holland fanfiction #harry holland fanfic #harry holland oneshot #harry holland one shot #violetwrites

[queen-scribbles]

aaaaand one more because I gotta, "you have no idea how long I've been wanting to that." for Ryn/Red >:3

This gets to pull double duty as a Lovelace Day fic for @shepherds-of-haven bc I got Red + kissing in the rain :3 and the two just work so well together. (alternate take on their first kiss that doesn't involve anyone bleeding to death)

---

In hindsight, they may have lingered too long. The archive building was practically the opposite side of the city from the Shepherd compound, and both of them knew how fast summer weather could turn. Hael, they even had windows, so the dark band of clouds, however distant, was visible long before it would present a problem.

But Xaeryn had never had the heart to pull Red away from a book he was truly enjoying. She was far more likely to find one of her own and join him. It was the one flaw in their friendship, if you wanted to call it a flaw. (She didn’t.) They were a perfect balance in nearly every other way, but if you put the two of them in the vicinity of books, you could abandon all hope of seeing them for the next several hours--if not days. The archives were no exception, especially with how long they’d been trying to gain access. Even Captains in the Shepherds had to wait their turn.

Xaeryn was so absorbed in her book on legends of the Jalis desert, she only noticed the far-off band of clouds because a closer one scudded across the sun and she looked up at the brief dimming of her light. She studied the dark clouds a moment, thought about suggesting they leave. But Red was almost done his book, last of the tall stack he’d gathered when they entered, and she only had half of hers left. They should be alright a couple more hours.

Her knuckles brushed Red’s as she shifted to return focus to her book, and he glanced up to flash her a smile. “Enjoying yourself?”

She laughed. “If you really need to ask that, maybe we aren’t as close as I thought,” she teased, trying to shoo away the lingering pulse of warmth that curled in her chest at the contact. “Shut up with stacks of rare books and y- my best friend for company? Could hardly ask for better. I assume you’re also enjoying yourself?”

“Immensely, and for the same reasons,” Red said, holding her gaze a moment longer to offer another boyish smile before returning to his book.

Xaeryn struggled to follow suit, distracted by attempts to convince herself he hadn’t meant it like that. Good thing she was a fast reader.

By the time they finished, reshelved their books, and made their way out of the archive building, the sky was lightly overcast. Not threatening; the dark clouds still gathered out toward the horizon, but not the bright, sunny day it had been when they entered.

“Think that’s an indicator of Blade’s mood at us spending a whole day reading?” Red joked with a nod to the sky.

Xaeryn huffed a laugh and bumped her shoulder to his. “It’s our day off, we can spend it as we like.” And I like spending it with you.

“True.” Red draped a friendly arm around her shoulders and because he was Red she let it stay there. “And he doesn’t seem the type to begrudge reading as a hobby, even if he is, somehow, even more serious than you,” he said teasingly.

She lightly elbowed him in the ribs. “Gossiping about the Commander now, Liefred?”

He laughed. “Saying flattering things, Xaer, but alright. What would you rather talk about?”

She thought for a moment, studying the market stalls they passed. Awnings fluttered in the breeze, sweet and savory aromas competed for attention, the quiet tinkling of baubles drifted through the bustling crowds. “How are you settling in?”

Red in turn, gave the question due consideration. “Pretty well. The Circle’s relieved to have a greater measure of safety and... more of a focus than survival. Shery’s been a huge help with getting the library set up and organized; you were right about how much she’d enjoy that.  And I’m... relieved to not be the sole person responsible for their well-being anymore.” He laughed sheepishly, his fingers tapping against her arm. “But I’m most grateful it reunited us.”

Xaeryn’s heart thundered despite her efforts to remain calm. Something wet hit her cheek, but she ignored it. “The dozen-odd moony-eyed recruits with a crush on you will be devastated, Captain Antiqua,” she teased lightly, hoping he couldn’t feel how hot her neck had gone.

“They’re not competing with you, Ryn,” he said with an abashed chuckle. “And you’re hardly short on admirers yourself.”

“And none of them have a chance,” she deflected. They’re not you.

Was she imagining it, or did his arm around her shoulders tighten fractionally? “Oh?”

Another raindrop hit her cheek, and Xaeryn swiped this one away with an affected casual air, letting her hand brush his on the way down. The people around them were starting to hurry, merchants packing up their stalls as the sky turned sullen. She was far more concerned with the tightness in her chest and the way Red was looking at her.

“We’re supposed to be an example, authority figures,” she said, picking up their pace slightly down the stairs to Smoketown as several more raindrops pattered against her arm. “That’s harder if they know you’re susceptible to moon-eyes.”

Red hummed an agreement of sorts as they reached the bottom of the stairs.  “Does-”

The skies opened up.

Xaeryn yelped and darted down the street in search of shelter, grabbing Red’s hand as it slid from around her shoulders to drag him after her. Blasted storm- The only semblance of protection from the pouring rain was a side entrance vestibule of a very dilapidated looking factory. It was shallow and narrow, forcing them close and only half-shielding them from the rain. Not that it mattered; they were both drenched by the time they reached it and squeezed themselves in.

“That came up fast,” Red laughed as water dripped off his hair.  “Barely any warning.”

“The signs were there,” Xaeryn said wryly, wringing out the tails of her jacket, futile as it may have been. She was pretty sure this one wouldn’t recover well from getting wet. “I think we just missed them.”  Their gazes caught for a moment and something in his made her clear her throat and look out at the street. “At least this isn’t as bad as-”

“-the one at the lake,” he finished with a grin. “True. This is just rain, not thunder and lightning with us the tallest thing around on the mad dash home.”

“Still just as wet, though,” she chuckled, flicking at a droplet about to slide off his jaw. Their eyes locked again, and this time she didn’t look away. She swallowed. “What, ah, what were you about to ask before the weather interrupted?”

Red hesitated, took a deep breath. “If the... moony-eyed recruits don’t have a chance... does anyone?”

She was suddenly, sharply aware that neither of them had let go from when she grabbed his hand. “I wouldn't rule it out.” His green eyes were so serious about this, she couldn’t look away. She was breathing hard, and it had (almost) nothing to do with their sprint for shelter. “If I was interested and... and thought he was as well.”

Red studied her face for only a heartbeat more before leaning in to kiss her.

Xaeryn’s free hand dug into the front of his shirt to pull herself closer, heedless of the rain still pouring from the sky. It didn’t stay there long before sliding up to tangle in his hair.  The warmth wrenching tighter in her chest sprang free and she pulled him closer still.

When they finally parted from the kiss, they lingered close enough she could see the water beading on his eyelashes, feel his breath against her cheek. The chorus of finally finally finally in her head was intoxicating.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Red murmured with a shaky, breathless laugh, his thumb caressing her cheek.

Xaeryn grinned, and it was all she could do not to throw back her head and laugh into the downpour. Instead she slipped her hand free of his so it could mirror the other in cupping his jaw and whispered, “You might be surprised.”

Red gave her a searching look, one brow arched.

She moved in until her lips just brushed his and murmured, “Sixteen for me.”

She knew when realization hit him because he kissed her again, more fervent, his hand sliding around the back of her neck. “Seems like,” he barely pulled away enough to mumble, “we have some catching up to do, then.”

“Mm-hm,” Xaeryn hummed, head a giddy whirl, and pulled him in for another. No sense wasting more time. Maybe I’m glad we didn’t beat the storm...

The rain was done before they were.

#queens fic #romantic prompts #shoh #lovelace day #xaeryn shrike #red antiqua #ryn/red

[bopbopstyles]

ELEVATED SURFACES

RATING: R/smut (sex, heavy alcohol use, smoking, lots of cursing)

WORD COUNT: 11.6k

CATEGORIES: fratboy!harry

MASTERLIST (check it out for extras) | INSPO TAG | PLAYLIST 

a/n: as a recently graduated srat girl and lover of a good frat party, this one shot was intended to fill the whole in my heart which is LEGIT frat Harry. he is fratty and hot and long haired and a mess. if u like this try out TEMPTATION which is my other frat!h series and the first thing i ever wrote on this gd website (he’s not as fratty but we love him a LOT)

a/n pt.2: as a note, i want to make very clear that frats and greek organizations frequently harbor predators and abusers. i do not in any way condone that behavior or that reality, and i would like to bring attention to a petition to remove a fraterity that had done truly many horrible things--your signature would be a huge help. for survivors of assault, you are not alone, and it is not your fault. 

As you rose up, your eyes locked on a figure in the doorway of the basement. His long hair was loose, curls that had been pulled out from the hair tie he always had on his wrist, a tight white shirt that you knew meant all of his tattoos were on display. Harry was watching you, you realized as you twisted your hips and bounced your arms up and down with the beat, singing the words. So you kept his gaze, and just to taunt him, when the chorus hit again, you dropped down, ass hitting your heels, eyes on his the whole time.

or

Harry is a very fratty frat boy and Y/N is a really good dancer

pls reblog and share with your friends 💕

“We really should not be still going to our own mixers,” Emily said to you, fluffing her hair and rotating to check her ass in her jeans. You looked up from where you were sitting on your bed, a gin and tonic in one hand to get your blood flowing before the party started. Emily sighed, and then turned from the mirror to you, grabbing the coffee cup that had never seen coffee, just alcohol. “Are people even going?”

You nodded, tossing your phone next to you and leaning against the bed frame. “Alexis is on her way over—she got held up finishing an essay. Maya said she might come, I tried to convince her by promising I’d bring my flask and you’d have your Juul.”

“I swear, she has to just give in and get one of her own.” Emily took a long sip and crossed her arms.

“She claims that will make her addicted.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “She’s already addicted—she uses half my pods and ends up hanging out with whatever guy will let her take a hit. Is it just going to be us and all the new members?”

“No, I think some juniors are going. And definitely the sophomores—they’re all on the little hunt.” You got up, going to your computer to change the song, scrolling through your comprehensive and well-curated pregame playlist. “Plus, who gives a fuck, we’ll only be there for an hour or two for the free alcohol and then we’re hitting the bars.”

“True.” A knock came from the door, and Emily hollered to come in, and Alexis appeared in the doorway, her makeup looking utterly flawless as always. You had always wanted Alexis’s wardrobe and told her constantly, to which Alexis always replied that she wished you were the same size. Unfortunately, Alexis was a solid five inches shorter than you and had a completely different bra size, making sharing quite difficult.  

“Bitches, I brought tequila!” Alexis swung into the room in a cloud of perfume, and threw her arms around you and Emily’s shoulders. “Come on, we need to get tipsy before we get to this mixer. Nick already texted me making sure I was coming.”

“Grab the shot glasses,” You replied, nodding to the makeshift bar cart in the corner, which as laden with glasses of all kinds and all your alcohol. “Are you hooking up with him tonight?”

Alexis shrugged, pulling her tequila from her bag and setting it on your desk before turning and going for the shot glasses. “Probably. I don’t know, he’s been weird lately—we hooked up on Monday night, but then he got all weird and left like immediately after and hasn’t texted me since. Barely acknowledged me when we saw each other in the library.”

“Was the sex weird?” Emily asked, unscrewing the top on the tequila so she could pour.

“Yeah,” Alexis replied, holding the glasses steady while Emily poured. “Like weirdly…intense? I let him come inside me which was probably a stupid idea, but I’m on the IUD so we should be all good. And then I offered to let him stay and he just got all flustered and said he had to go.”

You took your full shot glass, and you all clinked before tossing them back, the alcohol burning on your throat.  You hated tequila shots but Alexis loved them, and you did admit they did their job. “Do you think he’s caught feelings?”

Alexis’s eyes widened. She had been pining after Nick for ages, his tall basketball stature and surprisingly good fashion sense a dime a dozen. Much less, apparently the sex was insane, so what wasn’t to like? “You think? I thought it might’ve not been his vibe.”

Emily grabbed the bottle. “Another?” You all nodded, and she poured again, The Weeknd crooning in the background. “Just see what happens tonight, feel out what his vibe his.”

“Good idea.” You slammed back another shot, hissing before setting down the glass. “Okay, that’s enough tequila or you two are going to be carrying me home tonight.”

Emily and Alexis laughed, before taking seats on your bed, continuing to chatter about the night ahead. It was a Friday, your favorite night because it was usually just mixers, no general parties, which as a senior you had grown to despise. The fighting for watered down alcohol, packed bodies and horrific gender ratio was simply no longer something you had the energy to deal with. Mixers were your preferred zone, filled with your sorority sisters who you adored, the opportunity to actually hang out with the frat brothers whose presence you enjoyed, and usually pong. Sometimes they even let you DJ because you had the best party playlists. The president of Sig Ep had actually asked for the link one time and you’d heard they used it sometimes when the brothers didn’t want to man the computer anymore.

You surveyed your outfit in your narrow mirror, the black denim jeans and simple white tank that showed a bit of stomach and your tan you’d worked hard on during your winter escape to the Caribbean with your lineage. It was simple, yet it suited your needs—after three and a half years of college parties, you had discovered getting dressed up for frat parties was a useless activity, since your clothes would get drenched in jungle juice and sweat anyways. You left your best outfits for Saturday nights spent clubbing downtown.

If you were being honest, the whole reason you were going tonight was because at the last mixer you’d had with Beta, you’d turned around on the dance floor to find Harry’s eyes on you. You were already dancing with another one of the brothers and ended up making out with him in a corner until you got bored, but you hadn’t been able to get the sight of his eyes on you out of your head.

You’d known Harry since freshman year, your interactions limited mostly to mixers and the occasional run-in in the dining halls when you exchanged pleasantries, or the one time he’d volunteered for a karaoke team for your sorority philanthropy event and you’d been in charge of his team. But the two of you had rarely ever spent time together.  That didn’t mean you hadn’t had a lingering crush on him since you’d first laid eyes on him, though, and over the years he’d only gotten more attracted. A body that filled out his white t-shirts and black jeans, hair long and sweeping his shoulders to where he wore it in a bun most times, a jaw that could cut glass. He was hot and he knew it, as did everyone else on campus.

As juniors you had both been on the executive boards of your respective Greek organizations and had ended up in meetings together about housing violations and social calendars, but it hadn’t ever led to much more than you both complaining about how fucking annoying FIJI and their insistent requests for a house was, considering they’d trashed their last one. But this year, you’d found his eyes on you multiple times, and you wondered if perhaps your time had arrived. You’d both always danced around each other and you were curious after all these years if he was finally interested in hooking up. Not that you really expected much more, or were looking for much else—you were a senior, after all, and you were enjoying it.

“Y/N.” Alexis’s voice ripped you from your musings over Harry, her fingers snapping from her spot on your bed. “What’s got you thinking hard over there?”

“Harry?” Emily guessed, one eyebrow raising. “Emmett said he’ll be there tonight.”

“He’s always there,” you replied, because he was. Like you, he seemed to enjoy the mixers, but usually avoided the open parties unless he was on door duty.

“You’d hook up with him, right?”

You looked at Alexis. “Obviously. He’s so fucking hot.”

She laughed, as did Emily. “Then go for it, girl. It’s not like he’ll say no.”

You shrugged. “He might. Never know.”

“I seriously doubt that. You look hot as fuck, as usual, and are the life of the party. Beta adores you. They literally asked you to move in this year when they had an open spot.”

“It was a joke,” you reminded them, because it was—you wouldn’t ever be allowed to live in the house and they knew that. It was true though, you had become a bit of a groupie over the past few years, preferring the more laid back vibe in their house. You’d become friends with all the senior guys, except the weird or obnoxious ones, and had become a regular invite to Bachelor Monday watch parties in their second floor living room. You brought snacks and your friends, they provided the booze and the cable.

“Still,” Emily said, nudging you the toe of her black booties. “Don’t sell yourself short, babes. He is missing a brain if he’s not interested in you.”

“And seriously missing out,” Alexis added. You shot her a look, but she just chuckled. “Bitch, I lived next door to you last year. You are loud.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you said, laughing, but she was right. You were. Guys had told you on countless occasions, but you really couldn’t find it in yourself to care all that much. “Come on, we should go. Maya is texting me asking when we’re leaving.”

“Do you have your cigs?”  Alexis asks you, downing the rest of the drink she’d made while you had been staring into space.

It was your vice, one you had picked up during a semester abroad and only did when you were drunk. You knew you should stop, but something about it made you feel powerful, a bit badass, so you kept doing it. “Obviously. Emmett will have a fit if I don’t.” You swiped your pack from your desk drawer and your trusty pale blue lighter, and shoved them into the pocket of your jacket. With one last swig of your drink, your veins buzzing with alcohol just the right amount, the three of you were off, singing an old Hannah Montana song in the elevator down to the lobby of your dorm.

One of the pledges was working the door, but happily let you three into the frat house. The lights on the main floor were off, except for the ones in the front study that doubled as a coat room, where you tied the arms of your jackets together and set them in the corner so you didn’t lose them. Your cigs were transferred to your back pocket, and you just prayed you didn’t forget they were there and crush them again.  

Josephine and another junior were the sober sisters, and offered you three hugs before checking your names off the list. You got positive points for being there, as if that was the main reason you had shown up.

“Emmett!” Emily called, and the blond-headed boy’s head flipped up from where he was standing behind the bar. A Gatorade water cooler was sitting on the high bar, stacks of red solo cups and boxes of white claws and beers sitting on top of one another.

Aka, your happy place. “He’s bartending, thank god,” you said, and grabbed Emily and Alexis, weaving through the crowd. Girls stopped you all as you moved, hugs and squeals at your appearance. You had to admit, you were popular in your sorority, but mainly because you had made it your mission to get your money worth. As a result of your exec position, you’d gotten to know the sophomore member class and you adored them all, chaotic messes who always turned up with you and made you laugh hysterically. Honestly, you were sad to graduate because it meant leaving behind so many fun friends and memories.

“We’ve been waiting for you three,” Emmett said when you arrived in front of him. He was wearing the frat’s homecoming shirt from the previous year and his eyes were dilated, obvious that he had smoked before. “What are we drinking?”

“What’s the mix?” You asked, pointing to the cooler.

He grabbed three cups, knowing you would be taking it. “Shit ton of vodka, Kool Aid, water, the usual.”

“My favorite,” you replied, blowing him a kiss. “How is it downstairs?”

He filled the cups and handed them to you all. “They just wrapped up pong so it’s still getting moving.”

Alexis took a long sip before grabbing your hand. “Sounds like we need to get people dancing.” With that she turned around, her long slick black hair moving in a circle. “Let’s dance!” She called, and the girls around you cheered, following the three of you down the slippery steps to the basement.

Downstairs, The Motto was playing and you bobbed your head along with the beat, moving your hips as you entered the large basement space. It was dark except for a glowing sign with the Beta letters in narrow neon lights, casting the room with a tint of green. Your battered frat shoes, an old pair of white Vans, stuck against the beer and jungle juice-covered floor as you made your way to the middle. A couple of other girls and brothers were scattered around the floor, and you broke from Emily and Alexis’s hands as you twirled on the floor.  

You raised your cup above your head and started dancing, rapping the lyrics by heart, moving your hands and hips along with the song. Emily and Alexis sang along with you and some of the younger girls showed up, then some other seniors who shared your love for frat parties. All of a sudden your little was screaming and running towards you, Mallory’s arms wrapping around your waist.

“Oh my fuck god, MOM,” she screamed, using the nickname she’d had for you since you’d taken her as your little two years ago. You laughed and threw your arm around her shoulders, screaming the lyrics. There was a specific reason you had taken Mallory as your little, and it was because she lost her shit at parties just as much as you did. You two were a dynamic duo like no other, and if your grand little didn’t have a huge exam on Monday, she’d be here too and you would all be dancing together as usual.

You downed your jungle juice, the sugary drink combined with the loud music blasting and your friends making your adrenaline kick into high gear. And then Maya appeared, arms waving like crazy, and then she dropped it low and you remembered why you adored her, even if she always stole Emily’s Juul. She had a beer in one hand and a white claw in the other, ready for the night ahead.

Then Emmett appeared, trailed by some of the other brothers in tank tops and t-shirts, one carrying a six pack on his shoulder and handing out warm beers to the brothers he passed. Emmett beelined for Emily, his arm thrown around her shoulder, their completely platonic friendship on show for everyone. The song ended and you took a breath, crushing your cup and tossing it into the corner so you could have your hands free. Emily pulled her Juul free and took a hit, passing it to Maya next without a question between them.

The opening notes of Come Get Her started and you immediately grabbed Alexis and Emily, beelining for the bar that the speakers rested on, something you weren’t even sure how it got there, but it was your favorite elevated surface of all time. Wide enough to dance, tall enough to be high but not too high where you couldn’t mostly stand. You clamored up, coming to nearly full height and turning to your friends.

“Somebody come get her, she’s dancing like a stripper!” You screamed, your friends coming in a circle in front of the three of you, some other girls getting up on the bar. When the line came through again, you decided fuck it, and you dropped your ass low, bending your knees and tipping your head back.

When you danced, you didn’t give a single fuck about impressing guys or any of that. You just simply loved to dance with your friends, move your hips, and didn’t care what you looked like. Mallory screamed when you got low, your name falling from her lips in a squeal of joy.

As you rose up, your eyes locked on a figure in the doorway of the basement. His long hair was loose, curls that had been pulled out from the hair tie he always had on his wrist, a tight white shirt that you knew meant all of his tattoos were on display. Harry was watching you, you realized as you twisted your hips and bounced your arms up and down with the beat, singing the words. So you kept his gaze, and just to taunt him, when the chorus hit again, you dropped down, ass hitting your heels, eyes on his the whole time.

That had him moving. He joined a circle where Emmett and some other senior guys were dancing with some other girls, beers in hand as they shifted back and forth. But you knew what would have them all actually dancing and screaming and jumping along with you. You needed to see Harry like that—loose and free. So you turned around and grabbed the attention of the sophomore on aux, his name something along the lines of Justin, and screamed your song choice to him. He gave you a thumbs up, and then you turned back around. Your hair was sticking to the back of your neck, and you rolled it into a loose, high bun, pulling the elastic on your wrist around it as you swayed to the song.

You could hear the song ending, and with your eyes on Harry, you decided you would get down. He was next to a pledge with a six pack, and you wanted a beer. You were mixing alcohols like nobody’s business tonight, but you’d done worse. You squatted down and kicked your feet out, Mallory’s hand coming out to help you down. “You good?” She asked, leaning in to you.

“Yeah, just hot,” you replied. “Going to get a beer.” She nodded and let you go. There wasn’t a need to watch your friends as much in a normal party, since you knew all the girls here. Maya pulled you in for a hug as you moved, and then the current president called out your name from where she stood with her boyfriend, a white claw in her hand.

Squeezing next to Emmett, you nudged the waist of the pledge next to you. “Can I get one?” You asked, pointing to the beers.

“Yeah,” he replied, pulling one from the case and handing it to you. It was a Natty Light, but you really could’ve given fewer fucks—they were a frat after all, they didn’t buy the good stuff.

You popped the tab and took a long swig, the liquid quelling your rough throat from singing. And then, the song changed, and you smiled, eyes meeting Harry’s. You decided you were going to draw him out. “I got hoes, callin’!” You screamed, the song starting the speakers, and the boys all joined in. Fuck it, you thought, and chugged the rest of your beer so that you could jump, your arms outstretched and pumping up and down. Your bun was bouncing on your head and you were grinning, the music flowing through you.

Harry was watching you, his head tapping, hair swishing back and forth. You needed more. So you moved into the center of the circle, knowing the guys would hype you up, and reached for him. “Why aren’t you dancing?” You asked him playfully, and his eyebrow shot up.

“Fuck! Shit! Bitch!” The best lines of the song ran through the speaker and you just grabbed his hand, which was warm, and pulled on him. Suddenly his body was in front of you, close, and you tried to process what your original plan was. But then, Harry started moving, back and forth, head bopping, rapping the lyrics in time, and you knew you had gotten him. “I be ballin’, like a motherfuckin’ pro,” you sang, starting up to jump, and to your surprise, Harry joined you, a carefree expression finally crossing his face. He was screaming the lyrics then, hair bouncing as he moved. He rotated, grabbing the shoulders of another one of the boys, who joined in with him, them screaming the lyrics at each other.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the change in his demeanor so sudden. When the song changed, T-Shirt by Migos coming on, he turned back to you. All of a sudden, his lips were next to your ear and you choked on air. “Fuckin’ love that song,” he said, accent smooth in your ear.

“You and every other frat boy,” you replied, stepping backwards. You had ended up at the side of the circle closer to the wall, and so you moved towards it, freeing yourself from the heavy circle of boys.

The song was slower, not a jumping and dancing song, but one that suggested the slow grinding of hips and closeness of bodies. Which fuck it, you wanted. Desperately. He was looking at you with an intense stare, smile sloppy from alcohol, Harry sweaty on his forehead, arms straining under the fabric of his shirt. He was following you, taking a step away from his friends and following your body as if magnetic. So you just went for it, putting your weight lower, and rolled your hips back and forth to the music.

Mama told me/not to sell work/Seventeen five/same color T-shirt

Your eyes met his, and the shared intensity of his gaze stirred something inside of you. Desire. A need to know what his skin felt like, a desire that had been lingering since you first saw him. Your hands moved on their own, draping over his shoulders, and his hands found the curve of your waist, and suddenly you knew what his skin felt like on yours. They found the bare skin between the hem of your shirt and the top of your jeans, burning your already warm skin.

Justin-something on aux changed the song, deciding that was enough, and then No Role Modelz was on, and you moved, swaying back and forth, your chests coming closer and closer. His face was inches from yours and you wondered what his lips would taste like. The slow rap and smooth feel of the beat had your eyes fluttering shut, mind twirling from the alcohol and the lowlights, the heat of the packed basement. If you didn’t have Harry under your hands, you might have left for a smoke break, an excuse for air. But you weren’t letting go of him anytime soon. So you turned around and when your ass touched his dick you couldn’t help but smile—he was already hard. You felt his arm move and watched him sip his beer, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he drank. You rolled your hips against him and then reached up, grabbing the can and bringing it to your own lips, taking a sip and watching him watch you. The two of you were taunting each other, acting on a feeling that had always been an undercurrent in every one of your interactions, a slight sexual tension that if you pulled on would become taught.

Which as you pressed against him, you fucking yanked on. His free hand clasped around your hip, holding you close and swaying in time with you. You could feel the sweat that had soaked through his t-shirt a bit, but you didn’t care—you  were sweaty yourself, so was everyone in the room. It was part of the appeal, the fact that everyone was a mess and no one cared. He was rock hard between the denim of both of your jeans, and you could feel the power racing through you, the fact that you had him like this going straight to your head.

When Mr. Brightside came on, you decided that was your smoke break time. You couldn’t stand the song after so many years, and the feeling of bodies pressing together as they jumped was too much for you. “I’m going to get some air,” you said, turning around so you could face Harry.

He was so close to you, just inches away, when his tongue licked over his lip. “Can I come with?”

“Sure.” You grabbed his hand as you moved through the crowd, pushing between frat brothers and your sorority sisters who were all dancing together to the song. When you made it through the exit you sighed, the stale air of the stairwell even feeling better than that room.

“Fuck it was hot in there,” Harry said, your hand dropping from his. He followed you up the stairs and you nodded. You pushed open the door and a Doja Cat song was playing, some people upstairs scattered around, drinking and talking, some sitting on couches together. You waved to Maya, who seemed to have also needed a break, and nodded to the door as if to tell her you were getting some air.

“I’m going to smoke if that’s okay,” you told him as you made your way to the door, pulling your cigs and lighter from your back pocket.

He nodded. “Can I bum one?”

You opened the heavy oak door and said hello to the handful of guys sitting on the steps, who were manning the door and making sure no one random got in. “Sure,” you responded to Harry finally, sitting down on the concrete half wall that lined the landing. You could hear the slight thump of the music, but for the most part it was quiet, the the frat house a couple yards away not throwing anything tonight.

Harry leaned against the wall close to you, taking your offered cigarette. You flicked the lighter and raised it to your cigarette, taking a drag when it lit. Then you handed it to Harry, who accepted it gladly, doing the same. The smoke filled your lungs and your drunken mind considered that you should quit, but at the same time, you liked having something to do when you got air, an excuse to be on the steps. One of the other guys asked for one, and you handed one over, making a new friend.

And then you looked back to Harry. “So,” you said, tapping the ash on your cig. “How have you been?”

You hadn’t seen him since your last mixer with Beta, but you two hadn’t talked in ages. “Good,” he replied. “Busy with classes and stuff.”

“What are you studying again?”

“Political science,” he answered, and your eyebrows shot up. You had expected business or economics, like most of the Beta brothers.

“Why poli sci?”

He shrugged, tapping the ash before taking another drag. “Dunno, really. Took a class freshman year and liked it enough.”

“You don’t want to work in politics or something?”

“I don’t really know what I want to do, honestly.”

“You make it sound like that’s unusual,” you tell him. “Most people don’t.”

He chuckles, a low sound from the back of his throat, and you like the sound of it. “I’ll tell my dad that next time we talk.” You could tell there was a story there, but didn’t push. It wasn’t that kind of moment. “What about you?”

“Psych and pre-law,” you reply, the answer rolling off your tongue with ease.

“Oh? What kind of law?”

You took another drag before answering. “Criminal defense, but I want to work with people on death row.”

His eyes widen, just as you expected. It’s the usual response from people. “Fuck, that’s awesome. What made you interested in it?”

“I just got really into true crime when I was in middle school and ended up doing research on the criminal justice system and what a fucking disaster it is. Death sentences and death row especially. So I want to overturn false convictions.”

He puffed a cloud of smoke, and you watched his lips form a circle, a dark pink color that drew you in. “And you said most people don’t know what they want to do.”

A breeze made the hair on your arm hair stand up, and you rubbed the skin to warm up. It was cold tonight. “I’m unusual,” you told him. “Most of my friends have no idea what they’re doing after graduation.”

You had reached the end of your cigarette, so you dropped it to the ground and stamped it out, the combination of the nicotine and alcohol making your head deliciously hazy. “I’m going back in.”

Harry dropped his cigarette too, putting out the bud. “Lead the way.” He swiped his ID card on the door to let you both in, and you held the door for him, the sound of Post Malone sweeping through the house. “Want another drink?”

You mentally considered how drunk you were, came to the conclusion that you could take some more, and nodded. “White claw, please.” If you laid off the jungle juice you would last a bit longer, and you weren’t particularly wanting to get wasted tonight—you wanted to see where this went.

Harry nodded and walked towards the bar, while you turned to the group of girls closest to you, who were drinking juice and chattering amongst themselves. They immediately started asking you about Harry, about what was happening, and you shrugged because you truly didn’t know. “He’s hot,” one of them, a sophomore named Cat said. “You going to go for it?”

“If the opportunity presents itself,” you replied. You weren’t going to push with Harry, the last thing you wanted was to embarrass yourself in front of him. You’d follow his lead, see what he was interested in, matching his flirting and  see where it went. Not to say you weren’t forward, but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable either. “What about you guys?”

Cat launched into an in-depth analysis of the weird flirtation she’d been having with a junior guy in Beta, how they’d hooked up once but not again, but he kept looking at her. You encouraged her to go for it if she wanted, and she grinned, perhaps just needing an extra push. All of a sudden, you felt a hand on your back, and Harry was next to you, a Black Cherry white claw in one hand, a Heineken in the other.

“If I’d know there were Heinekens I would’ve had that,” you told him, accepting your white claw.

His hair fell behind his shoulders when he tipped the beer back. “Most girls don’t like beer.”

“Well you’ve met one now.” You liked messing with him, dropping flirtations into the conversation and pushing buttons. It made him smirk at you and you loved it, the twinkle in his eyes and the pinkness of his lips.

“H.” A guy appeared behind Harry. “We’re out of vodka.”

“How are we out?” He asked, taking another sip of his beer.

The guy, a pledge from the looks of him, grimaced. “Someone took one of the bottles.”

“Fuck,” Harry said with a sigh. “Have one of the other pledges go get more and keep the receipt. Get more claws while you’re out, we’re running low.” With that, he turned back to you, exhaling sharply. The boy disappeared, sensing that was his cue.

Right as you were about to speak, you heard the opening notes of I Love It from downstairs, and you turned to the girls around you. “Downstairs,” you told them, and they all tossed back the rest of their drinks before tossing them into the trash can a few paces away. You opened the door to the basement and then looked back to Harry. “Coming?”

That made him move, following you down into the dark stairwell that smelled of stale beer and sweat. He stayed close to you, and when your foot slipped on a stair he reached out to steady you, a hand to your side that made your body warm with more than just the temperature of the room.  The girls in front of you streamed into the room, screaming the lyrics to the song.

“You’re such a fucking hoe/I love it!” You joined in, laughing at the lyrics in spite of yourself, but the truth is you fucking loved the song. It was absurd and was filthy, but you liked screaming the lyrics in a room with a bunch of your friends.

You twirled around and walked into the room backward, moving your body with the beat, taunting Harry to follow you. Which he did, as if connected to you by a magnet. You could see his lips moving, the lyrics falling from his lips to match you. You stopped moving in the middle of the room and Harry’s hands found your hips. Turning in his hands, a coy smile on your face, you knew what this song was going to involve. Hips moved on their own accord, grinding hard against him. You could feel his breath on your neck, the lyrics I’m a sick fuck/I like a quick fuck/I like my dick sucked/I’ll buy you a sick truck in your ear. Hearing the words on his lips for some reason had your blood pumping,  and you wanted to hear them again on a loop.

His dick was hard against your ass and your hands stretched behind you, finding his hips to hold him close. His head fell to your neck, nosing at your skin, his fingers on the bare skin at your waist clenching. Your hips moved in time  with each other, his body dropping to be at the height as yours, chasing the desire that was running between you. Your head tipped back against his chest and eyes fluttered shut, letting the alcohol in your veins and the music pounding in your ears take over. All you could feel was him, the cut of his body and the strength of his arms next to you, his hips insistently rubbing against yours and you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to actually grind on him.

The song changed, Work Out by J. Cole sounding through the speakers and you pulled away from him and turned to face him. You were going to put on a bit of a show, you decided, because why the fuck not. It was clear at this point that he wanted you as much as you wanted him, so why pretend like anything else was happening?

So when the lyrics Let me see you get/High then go low/Now, girl won't you drop that thing down to the floor? fell through the speakers you dropped to the ground, Harry’s eyes following you came back up slowly, your body just inches from his. His hands fell on your body, grabbing at your waist to keep you close, pressing his hips forward to grind right over the front of your jeans and you panted from both the heat in the room and the pleasure ripping through your body. When the chorus came again, you dropped down, and this time you ran your hands down his legs lightly as you moved, fingers dancing down and then back up the seams of his jeans.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he said and you could barely hear him over the music.

His eyes met yours, searing into yours, a question passing between you. And then you were moving towards each other, an answer to the question in the way your lips met, slotted together and pulled at one another. Your hands were pulling at his shirt, grabbing at the material and the skin underneath, one of his hand holding your head close to his,  the other at your waist. It was fast and messy, your lip pulling on his bottom one, before chasing him, his tongue brushing at the seam of your lips before dipping inside.

Kissing Harry was hot. It was like setting your whole body on fire with desire and you just wanted to know what the rest of him felt like because his lips were sending you to another planet. He tugged on your bottom lip with his teeth and a moan escaped you, desperation clear in your throat. You could feel bodies press around you, the notes of Fire by Louis the Child ringing through the room. When the beat dropped, you knew people were jumping, the guys doing that thing where they slammed into each other like some kind of mosh. But Harry just stayed there, pulling his lips into yours, drawing wet pants from your body. He was holding tight to you as if you were going to slip away, even though that was the last place you wanted to go.

But you decided you wanted to tease him a bit more. Not let him get away, but just…push him a bit. So you drew away, enough to where you could dance, your sorority sisters at your back—you had seen Alexis move behind you. You grinding on her, your asses touching, and you could hear her laughter, before moving against you. It was something you two always did, dancing partners since the moment you met.

“If I go down in flames/The smoke going to spell my name,” you sang.

Harry watched you, his eyes burning a line down your body, the ministrations of your hips against Alexis’s. And then he was moving towards you, his front pressed yours and his lips were at your ear. “Drink?”

You nodded, and let him pull you through the crowd and towards the stairs. People were moving down them and you pressed yourself to the wall to let them pass, before following Harry up the stairs to the main floor. “Is there anything better than that shit?” You asked him when you stood next to him, his arm loosely around your waist, holding you to him.

His gaze drifted to the bar and then back to you. “I’ve got some stuff in my room.”

You knew he lived in the house, the result of being on exec last year and having first dibs after the current exec board was placed, the hierarchy the same as in your own sorority house. “Do you have mixers?” As much as you drank, you still hated drinking most straight alcohol, especially if you were going to be sipping on it. When he nodded, you replied, “Let’s go.”

You caught the eye of Emily who was standing on the other side of the room, watching you, and you pointed upstairs to tell her where you were going. After she gave you a thumbs up, letting you know she’d check in before leaving, a silent conversation well rehearsed over the years, you followed Harry up the stairs. Other guys and girls streamed down them, coming from rooms where they were smoking or using the bathroom or drinking just like you.

“What floor are you on?”  You asked when you passed the first floor, twisting to go up the second flight.

“Third,” he replied, not pausing no the stairs. “It’s quieter.”

That made sense, as you could imagine if he didn’t feel like partying one night it would be kind of hard to avoid. You followed him up, the sound of the music fading as you made your way higher into the frat house. You passed other girls on the way you exchanged hugs and promises to catch up after chapter on Monday night. Finally, you made it to the third floor, and Harry pushed open the door to a room with his name on it.

You followed him in and the first thing you noticed was how much of a boy’s room it was. Messy comforter, clothes on the floor, alcohol bottles lining the window sill, the frat’s flag above his bed. Some posters and photos littered the opposite wall, a single framed photo of what looked like his family on his dresser, along with some random items like cologne and a brush and hair ties. A pair of athletic shoes and boots were shoved into one corner, and a tub of protein powder sat on top of his mini-fridge, along with a stack of solo cups. On his desk was a bong and a couple of lighters, his computer sitting next to it on a charger. The dorm room was narrow, most of it taken up with a double bed that you were a bit confused by, since most rooms just had a single.  

“Sorry, it’s kind of a mess,” he said, shutting the door behind you. If you focused on it, you could hear nerves in his voice, a low laugh in the back of his throat as he surveyed his room. “Didn’t expect to have people up here.”

“It’s fine,” you told him, moving into the middle of the room to get out of the doorway, taking in the space.

“Uh, I’ve got Tito’s, Jack, some gin one of the guys got me.”

It drew you back to the whole reason you were in his room. He was standing next to his mini-fridge, a solo cup in his hand as he looked at you. “What mixers do you have?”

“Coke, juice, and tonic,” he replied. “Sorry, it’s not much.”

You shook your head. “Tito’s and tonic,” you told him. Usually you would’ve been all over the Jack and coke option, but considering how much you’d already drank the last thing you needed was to mix clear and dark liquors.

You watched him pour, leaning against his desk as you waited. He handed you the cup, asking you to try it and tell him if it was too strong. You took a sip and it was strong, but not too much. Then, he made a whiskey and coke you were jealous of, and the two of you stood in his room, not quite sure what to do. You didn’t want to go back down the party, the feeling of fresh air—even though it smelled vaguely like college boy, a mixture of sweat and cologne that you keenly recognized—feeling good on your skin.

“Want to listen to some music?” He asked, moving towards you. There was a bluetooth speaker on his desk, you realized,  and shifted away so he could get at his computer.  

You decided to sit on the bed, thighs resting on the soft comforter. “Sure.” You pulled your cigarettes and lighter from your back pocket, before looking back at him.

He fiddled with the speaker, the sound of it connecting ricocheting in the small room, before clicking keys to wake up his computer. “Any preferences?”

“I’m good with whatever,” you replied. “I like pretty much everything.” It was true, you had everything from country to Top 40s and rap on your Spotify, a variety of playlists to fit the mood.

He pulled on his bottom lip with his thumb and forefinger as he perused his Spotify and you tried not to focus on the sight. Low music began to sound in the room and you immediately recognized the beginning notes of Let Her Go by 6LACK,  a smile drifting onto your face. He must have noticed, because he turned around, his cup in his hand. “You like 6LACK?”

“More like obsessed,” you replied and he chuckled.

He sat on the edge of the desk, his knees falling open, his back slumped a bit. “I don’t know a single girl who even knows who he is.”

You took a sip of your drink before replying, resting your body back on one hand. “They must not have good music taste, then.”

Harry gave you a small smile, an edge of playfulness to it. “Where’s home for you?”

“Denver,” you responded. “You?”

“Holmes Chapel.”

“Where’s that?”

He brushed a hand through his hair, the long locks slipping between his fingers and you couldn’t help but wish you were the one doing it. “South of Manchester. It’s a small town, lots of fields and shit like that.”

You’d never been to England so you had no idea of where Manchester was, but you didn’t ask. “Do you like it?”

He shrugged. “It’s fine. I don’t want to like, move back or anything. But it’s a good place to go home to.”

Denver felt the same way to you—it was home, but it wasn’t a place you saw a future in. You’d go where law school took you, and then the work, wherever you could make the biggest impact. “Where do you want to go?”

The solo cup hung in his hands, and he twirled it a bit, the rim of the cup pressed between his fingers. “LA, maybe. New York. Not sure, really. London, most likely, unless I can get a job and someone to sponsor my Visa so I can stay.”

“Do you like the states?” You knew you were asking a lot of questions, but you’d never had a conversation like this with him and you were curious. Curious about him, about who he was, underneath all the frat shit that he loved so much.

“It’s different than home,” he replied, and you understood what he meant. “I don’t think I’ll want to be here forever, but it’s good for right now. Got friends here now.”

You took another sip of your drink, and then pushed yourself up, the need to pee suddenly overtaking your body. “Where’s the bathroom?”  

“Down the hall. Make sure you slam on the door before locking it—it got fucked up during homecoming and hasn’t been the same ever since.”

You nodded and took your cup with you, four years of college ingraining some lessons into your bones. Down the hall, you found a blond wood door and a doorknob that was barely attached to the door. You pushed it open and shut it quickly, shoving against it with your shoulder so that you could flip the lock. Inside, you wondered for the millionth time why boys were in capable from having a properly stocked bathroom. Head & Shoulders shampoo littered the floor of the shower,  a flimsy shower curtain that had come free from a couple of the rings. You squatted to pee, grabbing the toilet paper roll that sat on top of the toilet, no one even bothering to properly put it away.

As you peed, you scrolled through your phone. Mallory had texted saying she was going bar hopping with some of her friends and you told her to text you if she needed anything and a heart, before checking her on Find My Friends to see she was, in fact at a bar. Then you texted your group chat with Emily and Alexis and Maya, who had asked how you were doing. You told them you were with Harry and most likely going to be here for a while, which got excited responses and Alexis sent the eggplant emoji, which made you snort. They told you to text you if you ended up staying the night so they could keep track of where you were, which you agree to do.

When you went to wash your hands, you rolled your eyes because of course they couldn’t even buy hand soap. You went to the shower and found a bottle of body wash, and squirted some into your hands before going back to the sink, rinsing them off. Then you looked at your face in the mirror, eyeliner and mascara still in tact, but your hair was a disaster. You pulled the bun free and let your hair tumble down your back, running through it with your fingers to calm the strands that were askew.

Standing the mirror, you had the opportunity to consider your choices. Did you want to hook up with Harry? Yes. That was a clear answer, despite your alcohol-hazed mind. Did he want to? Most likely—every indication had pointed towards yes. So your mind was made up as you pulled the door open and made your way back to his room, your phone tucked into your jeans and solo cup in your hand.

“You guys really need soap.”

He was still sitting on the edge of his desk, scrolling through his phone and sipping on his drink when you came into the room. At the sight of you, he put his phone down. “I know—it’s fucking disgusting. I have my own, though. Sorry for not sharing.”

You set your cup on his dresser, deciding you were done, and moved towards him. “It’s fine. I made do.” His eyes trailed down your front, the sexual tension thick in the room. When he pulled his bottom lip into his mouth and chewed on it, you decided fuck it you were done waiting.

You crossed the space between the two of you in second, slotting yourself between his knees. His hands found your waist immediately, his solo cup moving to rest on the table once your body was pressed to his. Without pausing, you pressed your lips to his, reconnecting them in a fire—you needed him, you wanted him, you craved his hands on your skin. Now that you were alone, it was like you couldn’t hold yourself together and neither could he. His hands moved up and down your back, tugging you into his chest as your hands curled in his long hair. Lips fought for dominance, teeth tugging and tongues pressing for more. When he licked into your mouth a wet moan left your lips and you pressed into the crotch of his pants without even meaning to.

6LACK was still flowing through the speaker, and the smooth RnB just adding to the desire rolling through your body. When his lips dropped to your neck, sucking and biting on your skin, a desperate, filthy noise fell from your mouth and you couldn’t help but smile when Harry grunted into you. “I—fuck,” he mumbled, squeezing at your hips.

Suddenly your clothes were too warm, burning against your skin. You leaned back and pulled at the hem of your tank top, pulling it up over your head and letting it fall to the floor. Harry’s eyes went wide, blown out irises from alcohol and desire criss-crossing over your body. “You can touch me,” you said, confidence coursing through your veins and just desperate for him to do something.

He didn’t hesitate, pulling you back into him and attaching his mouth to the swell of your breast, right above the lace of your bra. Hot breath on your skin had you keening into him, back arching up into his mouth, your fingers tugging into his hair. You loved his hair, having something to hold onto and anchor yourself, and from the pleased hums he liked it too. His hands fumbled with your bra clasp, and when he got it free and pulled the material away, he pulled your nipple into his mouth and you audibly sighed. When he sucked on it, then laved over it with his tongue you couldn’t help but buck into him. You were putty in his arms and he had barely done anything.

Your hands pulled at his shirt, the desire to see his skin overwhelming you. He didn’t make you wait, helping you tug it over his head, and let it drop to the floor. Black ink scattered across his skin, words and images that made a million questions swirl in your mind. The G on his shoulder, the ship on his bicep, the name Jackson scrawled above a rose, the swallows across his collarbones and a butterfly on his stomach. He sat there, chest heaving as he caught his breath and your fingers brushed his skin, curiosity getting the better of you.

“Y/N,” he rasped, “bed?”

“Yes.” The word fell from your lips with ease, and he was backing you into it immediately, hands in your hair and lips on yours. Your bare chests touching sent you into overdrive, the brush of your nipples on his warm skin, a sheen of sweat covering both of you from dancing all night.

The comforter was plush underneath your back as you scrambled up the length of his bed, his body following yours immediately. Your legs fell apart so he could fit between you, and when he did, his dick rested right against your clothed clit and it made you gasp. “Feel good?” He mumbled, the words a haze in your ears as he plucked your lips between his.

All you could do was buck up, your knees finding either side of him. You wanted to be on top, to be in control. You wanted to grind on him properly, after waiting for so long. With a hand at his chest, you pushed slightly, enough for him to move back. He must have understood what you wanted because he flopped onto the bed next to you, one hand on either of your thighs and you mounted him, your ass sitting on the top of his thighs.

When you moved your center over his dick, both of you groaned, deep and drawn out, your head thrown back in pleasure. It was bliss, after so much waiting, to finally be able to do this, his hands crawling from your thighs to your hips to hold you in place, exactly where he wanted you. You put your hands on his chest to hold yourself up, and let your hips find a sinful rhythm, one that was making pleasure curl in your stomach. Pants left your mouth, matched by Harry, who was watching you as if you were a fucking art exhibit, eyes trying to take in every inch of you. Fingernails curled into his skin, red marks that you expected to be there tomorrow, when he nudged at your clit, and you rubbed that spot a few more times, his name falling from your lips in a beg. “Harry.”

That had him moving, pulling your lips down to his so he could kiss you again, his fingers cradling the back of your head. It was just rough enough where you were scrambling to catch up and it felt good, that this was consuming every part of your brain. You rolled your hips again, your hands pressing into the pillow under his head. Then, you felt his thighs agains your ass, and he was pushing up into you, making him snugly flush against you, the only thing between you two being your clothes.

Which you wanted off, and wanted off now. You moved back, crawling between his legs, and his eyes followed you, panting as he watched you pop the button on his pants. He lifted his hips to help you and you tugged the tight skinny jeans that showed every inch of his thickness underneath them down his legs. Then, you pulled on his briefs, and he was bare in front of you, exactly as you wanted him. Your jeans were constricting your movement so you turned tot he side, pulling the denim off of your body so you were left in your underwear.

Then you were on him again, but this time, it was your hand on his dick, fingers running up the length of him.

“Fuck,” he said, voice husky in your ears. He was gorgeous underneath you, desperation making his eyebrows crease, his long hair a mess on the pillow. Why had you waited so long to act on this desire? You suddenly couldn’t remember.

He watched you spit onto his most sensitive part, and then slide your hand over him, spreading the moisture. He hissed at the feeling and you knew you wouldn’t be able to last long here—he was already hard, his tip red and throbbing. The fact that you had him this turned on and you’d barely done anything made your ego soar, to be honest. You pumped him three times before licking up the underside of him, his hands curling in the comforter, a stream of curses falling from his lips.

When you took him into your mouth, a low, rough grunt filled the room and you smiled. You hollowed your cheeks and immediately took him all the way into your mouth, resisting the urge to gag when he hit the back of your throat. “Shit,” he rasped. “You—shit.”  

You’d done what you were about to give him just a handful of times before, only with people who you knew you would feel pleasure from too when they did it, and trusted. And Harry fit both of those categories, because he could fucking smile and you’d want to fuck him. So you grabbed his hand and placed it on the back of your head, before taking him all the way to the back of your throat. Your mouth was full of him and it felt so good.

“Want me to fuck your mouth?” His eyes were glimmering in the light, completely focused on you. You were happy you had left the lights on, because it meant you could every inch of him, every reaction you drew from him.

In response, you licked at his tip, hoping he knew that meant yes.

He seemed to, because he curled his fingers into your hair and pushed his hips up, his tip hitting your throat immediately. You groaned around his dick and he cursed at the vibrations. Then, he kept his hips on the bed and instead pulled you up and down him, fucking your mouth just as you had wanted. You couldn’t do much from this position, so you focused on inhaling through your nose and running your hands over his skin, scratching at the butterfly on his torso. Leaving reminders of this night, of you, on his body.

“Shit,” he mumbled, pulling you off. “I—I have to stop. But, shit, you feel so good, babe.”

The pet name made you smile, sitting back on your heels to wipe at your mouth, the taste of his salty precum still on your tongue. “Do you have a condom?” You asked, because all that you had done had left you more than ready—you needed him inside of you.

Harry’s eyes went wide and he scrambled up. “Fuck,” he exhaled, grabbing at his desk drawer and pulling it open. Watching him look through his drawers completely naked was, you had to admit, a bit amusing, but you kept your thoughts to yourself. He wrenched another drawer open, tossing the contents about as he looked. Then he sighed, and looked back at you. “I’m out.”

“Go find one,” you told him, leaning back against the wall, letting your knees drop open to show your underwear. You could feel the wet spot on them and you knew he saw it too. “I’ll wait here.”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll—yeah I’ll find one.” He pulled on his jeans, not even bothering with his briefs, eyes flickering to you every once and a while. “Shit, I’ll—I’ll be back.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at how flustered he was, pushing open his door and letting it slam shut behind him. Through the door you could hear him knocking on the door next to his, some muffled words, and then him knocking again. He was going fucking door to door looking for a condom, you realized with amusement. Then, the patter of feet on the stairs, and you knew he was going downstairs, that no one else was in their rooms.

While you waited, you grabbed your phone and scrolled through it. Caught up on texts, liked shit on Instagram, checked Snapchat even though you barely used the app. Most people were at bars, as far as you could tell, but it looked like they’d set back up pong downstairs according to Emily’s story.

All of a sudden, feet pounded on the stairs and you knew it was Harry. You pushed your phone back onto the desk, and when the door opened, he was standing there holding probably ten condoms. “How many did you get?”

He looked down at the wad in his hand and visibly blushed. “I—I thought I’d re-stock.”

You let it slide, even though you knew exactly why he got so many. He was hoping you’d have a couple rounds, and  you were not opposed to the idea. “Come here,” you said, and let your legs fall back open.

He was on you in second, his pants kicked down his legs as he moved and you were surprised he didn’t trip. Hands found your skin and he pushed you up the bed, this time he was the one hovering over you, lips drawing eager mewls from you. You pressed your hips into his unclothed erection and he cursed, a grimace crossing his face that you knew was from him restraining himself. “Can I take these off?” He asked, fingers pulling at your underwear.

“Please,” you replied and that made him smile at you. He peeled them down your legs, tossing them to the ground, a forgotten memory. Then he brushed a finger over your slit and you gasped, cool touch sending waves of pleasure through you. “Need you.” The two words made his head snap up from where he was looking at your pussy, eyes connecting with yours.

“I was going to go down on you,” he said, and although the thought was tantalizing, you needed him inside of you.

You shook your head. “Later.”

Harry wasn’t complaining. He grabbed one of the condoms from his desk and ripped it open, rolling it down his dick with a concentrated gaze. Then, he crawled up your body, reconnecting your lips, and you both sighed at the feeling of his dick rolling against your center. “Okay?” He asked, pulling away just a hair to check in.

“Please,” you begged, and that had him moving immediately.

He tugged one of your legs around his waist, and then he gripped his dick, brushing his tip to your slit once, twice, three times. On the third time, though, he pressed in, and your wetness accepted him immediately, allowing him to push in about halfway before he stopped.

It burned a bit—mainly just from his size, which was bigger than most other guys you’d been with. You hands scrambled across his chest, grabbing at his skin, struggling to get your breathing under control. “You’re big,” you said, unable to stop the words that fell from your lips.

A cocky smile drifted over his face and you mentally kicked yourself for adding to his ego. “Can I move?” He asked though and you nodded. His head bobbed down, and you realized he was watching where you two were connected as he pulled back and then pushed in all the way. A choked moan left your mouth and a similar one sounded from Harry’s, although his had a string of curses attached. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he rasped, hands adjusting so they were next to your head, his face above yours. “Fuck.”

You were about to tell him to move when he did it on his own accord, pulling out and back into you, the impact making your body shift on the comforter. There was a very real possibility of you having sore legs tomorrow, but you really didn’t give a fuck because he felt so good. “Holy shit,” you babbled, those words the only ones you could find as he thrusted in and out of you, finding a rhythm that made you both pant with pleasure.

Sounds drifted out of you without you even realizing, something that always happened when you had drunk sex. You couldn’t control yourself as much, unable to process how loud you were being, what you were saying. Looking back you couldn’t even remember exactly what you had said, but you knew it was a mess of curses and his name and God and just pants and mewls that were feeding Harry like a fucking three course meal.

He loved your sounds, used them to figure out what you liked, where to move and shift. You could tell because when you’d let out a sharp gasp he’d say, “Yeah, there? That’s the spot?” and drive in and out of you, hitting your g-spot perfectly with every move of his hips. Your hands were clutching at his hair as he thrusted into you, your ankles hooked around his lower back, and your body was desperate for release.

But you could also tell he was not going to last. His eyes were heavy, eyelids drawing shut with pleasure, fingers curling in the pillow next to you. Shoulders tensing and abdomen tight as he swiveled his hips, a broken moan falling between you. “Close,” he finally said, and dropped down to his elbows, so his face hovered above yours, only a hair away. “You feel so good, shit, oh my god—how do you feel so good?” His words were broken and that made them even better, that he had no control over what he was saying.

“Want you to come,” you babbled, “want to feel it, come on Harry, come for me, please, I need it.”

“Holy fuck—“ that had him snapping into you, hips slapping against yours, the sound of skin on skin overpowering the music that still played in the background. You gripped his shoulders when his head hung in the crook of your shoulder, and you knew he was about to come.

So you said one more thing. “I need you to come, Harry, please.” The words came out as a beg, exactly as you intended. His hips were stuttering immediately, curses falling between you like a broken record, repeating over and over again as he shot into the condom. He smattered kisses on your shoulder as he collapsed into you, sweat sticking to your skin.

He laid there for a second, panting, and you didn’t mind, even though you desperately needed to come. Perhaps it was how you clamped down on him, or you shifted your hips to feel slightly more of him, but Harry seemed to figure out what you needed. He lifted his head, took one look at you, and then pulled out, ripping off the condom and tossing it into his trash before crawling down your legs.

When his tongue licked your slit, you mewled his name, your hands moving into his hair immediately. You tugged and pulled on it as he licked over you, drawing circles that pulled desire from your flesh. And then he went inside, darting his deftly skilled tongue into you and practically thrusting it into you. His thumb brushed across your nub and you let our a shuddering moan, bucking up into his face. You were close—insanely close—the combination of his tongue inside of you and the thumb on your nub drawing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Harry,” you rasped, voice broken from panting. “I’m close.”

He seemed double his effort, tongue moving in and out of you at double time, his thumb brushing a brutal pace over you. You were twisting in his arms, hips bucking, curses leaving your lips. And when he pulled his thumb away and sucked on your clit, that’s when you came, in a mess of his name and broken gasps, choking on air. Your fingers curled tightly in his hair, anchoring his face to your center as you came, bucking up into him. He didn’t mind though, he just held your hips and took it, licking at you to draw out all of your aftershocks. Your eyes squeezed shut and your mind was a mess, swirling without the ability to grasp onto a single thread of thought, just a mess under his lips.

When you finally regained the ability to breathe, you pulled your hands from his hair and he sat up. You watched in awe as he licked his lips, gathering your juice, and swallowed them, a smile on his face. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re really good at that?”

He gave you a cocky expression and then flopped down next to you. “They have, in fact.”

“Good. I’d be concerned about the other girls if they hadn’t.”

He laughed, and then pulled you into his body. You were surprised at his desire to cuddle, but you weren’t mad. “You can stay if you want. There’s people downstairs still and it’s cold out.”

You propped your head up on his shoulder. “There’s also all those condoms.”

“That’s true. Wouldn’t want them to go to waste.”

You trailed your fingers up his torso. “Might have to just stay the whole weekend if we’re trying to use them all.”

His eyebrows quirked, but he wasn’t mad at the prospect. “Wanna be my study break for the weekend?”

You smirked, leaning up to quickly peck his lips. “As long as you’re mine.”

He hauled your body on top of his and curled his fingers into your hair. “We’ll get your shit in the morning, then.”

“It’s a deal.” You kissed him, lips slotting against one another, slower and less hurried than before, but that same undercurrent of desire stringing between you two. You were already grinding into him, hips brushing over his as you moved.

Suddenly, a pounding sound came from the door, and you froze. “Fuck off!” Harry called, pulling the comforter that had ended up at the bottom of the bed over the two of you.

“Fuck—sorry—I need a condom, man.” The words were muffled, but you heard them all the same.

Harry snorted, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Go ask Nick,” he replied, “and leave me the fuck alone.” His hands grabbed at you, kneading into your ass, and you licked at his nipple.

It was going to be a long weekend.

SEND ME CONCEPTS ABOUT Y/N AND HARRY!

#frat boy harry #frat boy au #frat boy fan fiction #Harry Styles #Harry Styles Fan Fiction #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles drabble #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing

[hotwings0203]

Hello!!! Soooo I came up with a few headcanons for Muslim Bakugou, JajkjGhoA I can't wait to read your response! 😫🤲💖

Okay! So he is definitely the good husband who does house chores! He actually helps around the house, knows how to do all the chores, and all the other girls are so jealous of you lolll

He will make you the best food! He knows all your favourite dishes, and will spoil you with his cooking! Also he will make your favourite desserts as a form of apology for when he pisses you off or makes you upset

Will feed you when he's trying out new dishes, and when you're getting married during the mehndi, when you feed him laddu or gulab jamun, he will blush so hard but also holds your wrist to "guide" you, as everyone giggles and teases you two for being so flustered and blushy around each other

If you make his favorite dishes?? Like okay imagine you make his fav dish (after asking the bakusquad cuz he's hard to approach lol) and subtly give it to him or maybe get Kirishima to give it to him as you leave the mosque or arrive at some community party or something, homeboi will blush so hard and will not let anyone have even the tiniest bite of your cooking

As a thanks he will buy you churiyan! He will see you admiring them and will come up and awkwardly but gruffly ask you if you like that certain churiyan set (that is like a pretty red and gold) and when you say yes, he will proceed to buy it for you, and omg if the bakusquad see this, Denki and Sero will definitely tease him and be like you should put them on her! While you're like omg! Wait, the adults will see! And he just surprises everyone as he gently grabs your hand and puts them on you and just admires how soft your hands are, and how they fit in his hand, and thinks about how pretty they would look with a wedding ring on them, and you are just standing there blushing so hard, and when he sees you wearing those churiyan at other events he feels so proud and possessive and happy

Weak for your smile and laugh, and very protective of you, will blow someone's head off for making you upset or for disrespecting you. Your parents love him so much, will immediately say yes to the rishta! Also, his parents love you so much, you and Masaru are the calm to Bakugou and Mitsuki raging tempers lmfaoo

You're the only one who gets to see his soft side and soft while without being threatened with death loll lucky youuu~ Also! Everyone will tease him sooooo much for being soft for you, the girls and aunties always giggle when they see how soft he is with you when you guys are out in public and he won't deny it either loll

In public he's kinda reserved with pda, but likes it when you hold his hand or loosely hook your arm around his muscled arms. He will however, put an arm on your lower back to steer you away from an uncomfortable situation or will step in front of you to protect you

In private he will be cuddly, loves wrapping his arms around you, forhead kisses too! You will be a blushing, flustered mess as he leans down by your ear and teases you about it in his low gruff voice. Also just loves the feel of your soft body against his

Also! Omg say its eid or something, and you're getting your mehndi done, the bakusquad will push him to sit with you and help you since you're mehndi is still wet. He will gruffly compliment your mehndi design, will get you food and feed it to you, will softly but hesitantly brush your hair away from your face when he sees that its bugging you, and this will make your both blush, and omg he will have the softest look in this eyes at that moment, and his hand will linger by your pretty earnings, and will just gaze at your lips with a lustful gaze as you softly whisper thank you

When the mehndi dries, and Denki makes a comment about how dark and rich the color is and is like damn Bakugou you really have it bad for y/n huh? Both of you will be so flustered and while Bakugou chases Denki while yelling that hes gonna blow his head off, you just stand there will Mina and Ochako and giggle at his antics, and the girls will tease you about you have gotten Bakugou wrapped around your fingers and that you shouldn't be surprised when his parents approach your parents with a rishta

AunwQniwa anyways Muslim Bakugou will love you so much and cherish you and just RIP to your heart 😫😭💖

YO YES MY GAWD LETS ASSESS THIS MFKIN FOOD YOU JUST GAVE US

okay so 100% YES!! Y’all seen mitsuki? She ain’t havin none of that “I’m the only son so treat me like a king” bs. No no, our girlboss femdom Mistski Auntie has her two boys cookin and cleanin every weekend and massaging her feet, as she SHOULD!

These habits carry on to when he gets married also. His wife could be doing the dishes one day right after their wedding and he would walk by, peeking over her shoulder at her hand-to-sponge technique.

“You’re doing it wrong dumbass. Use the hard side to scrub the crumbs off and then the soft side to polish it.” He snatches the plate from your hands and starts vigorously rubbing it the way you couldn’t. You stare at him, flabbergasted that a mom in the desi community has actually succeeded in raising her son right.

“‘The fuck are you looking at?”

“Nothing,” you quickly say, stepping aside to let him work his magic. He merely grunts and picks up the next bowl.

In a moment of bravado, you lean over to kiss his cheeks. He stops scrubbing and just stares at the sponge in his hands, his face slowly going red as a beet.

When you two fight, you already know he’s gonna be yelling at the top of his lungs and stomping around the house, the explosions from his hands searing the furniture around you.

It’s enough to set you off and storm out of the house too. You need a fucking break, he can be so much to handle sometimes.

It’s around late evening that you come back in the garage from wherever you decide to cool off from. The house is silent and dark from the outside so you assume he fell asleep with the usual scowl on his face.

You sigh and drop your keys and purse on the counter, exhausted from the day’s drama. Form the corner of your eye you see a small candle on the kitchen table alight, and you walk over to put it out.

Except right in front of the candle, there’s a small plate of mithai(sweets) that has a note attached to it.

“Sorry for being an ass” is written in his chicken scratch writing. You smile and shake your head, taking a bite from the surprisingly well-made gulaab jamun.

It’s a good thing Katsuki hid Sato’s recipe in one of the cabinets before you came home.

And just like you said, the man is WHIPPED for your cooking. He’s always pulling you to the kitchen and lightly shoving you around the stove, gruffly telling you to add more spices that he knows you can recreate to a T.

Whenever the Bakusquad comes over to hang out, you try to cook the same way you know Katsuki likes (extra spicy), but for some reason on those exact days you can’t seem to find any of your special ingredients…

At other times maybe before your marriage, when he first began falling in love with you he would see you admiring a vendor’s churiyaan and earrings.

He would quietly walk up behind you maybe a foot or two away, observing how you fit the bangles on your wrist.

“I like the red ones on you,” he says lowly, making sure to dwindle down his usual aggressive tone.

You turn and gently smile at him. “Oh yeah? And why’s that?”

“Because red is what brides wear.”

Your heart beats fast as he takes your wrist, oh so delicate compared to his callous large hands.

“And the silver makes me think of the ring I’ll have on you in no time soon.”

Bakugo closes his eyes in front of you and inhales, letting you know that everything about you draws him closer.

When you guys walk around a college campus or even in town, he’s always looking left and right shiftily, convinced that every man within a mile of you is trying to steal you away. He’ll stand in front of you when a guy asks you where a certain building is, he’ll glare at his friends when they get too rowdy and rough with you, but he still gets nervous for PDA. He knows how fast word travels around in desi communities so he doesn’t want to do anything in public, but fuck when he gets home he’s pinning you on the bed and resting his entire weight on you.

At eid as stated above^^ he’ll see you in your lengha or kurti and get INSANELY nervous and flustered at your beauty. The way you sit poised and laughing with Mina and ochako while your mehndi is being done makes his palms sweat and his armpits prickly. He has to wipe them on his kameez almost three times before taking one last look at you and walking away.

Well, at least he tries to walk away. He’s promptly sought out and grabbed by his three cronies, who drag him by nail and tooth towards you. No amount of swearing and growling threats to ‘blow their ass up so bad people will piecing them back together for weeks” stops them from bringing him closer to you.

“Yeah yeah, you said that already,” Denki smirks and playfully zaps his ass so that he helps and lurches forwards towards you.

The commotion makes the girls look up and wave excitedly when they spot the rowdy men.

You bite your lip and give Bakugo a meek little grin, which makes steam curl from his ears.

“Heyyy ladiesss, got room for one more?” Sero drawls and throws an arm over the simmering grenade of a man.

“Hmm,” Mina mockingly contemplates for a minute before she slowly starts to get up, uraraka following pursuit. “Not at the moment, but maybe we could make some room…” she tackles Bakugo and Kirishima also kicks the back of his knees so that he folds cleanly into the chair next to you.

You look bewildered at everybody while they snicker at Bakugo’s vermillion face.

He glared at them and after an oblivious moment or two they get the hint and wink before backing off.

“So, uh, how long have you been getting your hand done for?”

You grin at his inexperience with these kinds of things, but still indulge him.

“About 25 minutes or so.”

“25 min-“ his eyes grow wide and the whole hall turns to him as he screams at your poor designer for making you ‘sit on her cute ass for such a goddamn long time. And why the hell doesn’t she have food yet??’

At least he thought you were cute

💓💓

#Muslim Bakugo #desi Bakugo #katsuki bakugo headcanons #bakugo fluff #hot moots

[jimlingss]

hi!! for the requests, could I suggest hoseok, fluff, fake dating au, and the sentence 'I’ve been in love with you since we were kids.' thank you!

↳ Humdrum Amore

2.7k || 100% Fluff || Jung Hoseok

“I never thought I’d come back here one day.”

You stare at the brown building that you once dreaded. The same structure that you had to drag your feet into every morning five days a week after your dad dropped you off. But instead of feeling apprehension, there’s a sense of prickling nostalgia while you look at the building.

“Same.” The man beside you exhales, staring at the green field, the brown doors and small windows covered by blinds. “But it’s not all that bad, right?”

You turn to Hoseok who looks sharp in his simple suit and tie ensemble. You’ve seen him in the same clothes plenty of times, but while you’re wearing your red dress and you’re lingering in front of the school, it feels like the two of you have returned to being awkward eighteen year olds nervously going to prom together as friends.

But Hoseok eases you. “Come on.”

He takes your hand, a gesture you still aren’t used to, and tugs you inside.

The moment the doors are open, you follow the signs leading to the gymnasium and you’re met with a table of refreshments and goody bags. But more importantly, there are people already mingling in all corners. Some are wandering while most have gathered into groups to reminisce. There are those that you recognize and those whose faces have long faded in your memories. 

High school. A time of pubescent years, of growing up and trying to prove yourselves while figuring out your future. You have mixed feelings about that time. All you know is that you’re glad it’s over.

“Y/N?” There’s a higher pitched voice to the left and you turn to see Tiffany approaching with a wide smile. “Hoseok?! Oh my god, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you guys! How are you?”

You hug her for a second. “It’s good. You?”

“Yeah.” She exhales as if she can’t believe you’re together again and you admit, it is surreal. There was definitely a difference from glancing at someone’s post, status and updates on social media and seeing them in person. “It’s been great. I didn’t know if you were coming to this reunion or not.”

You smile, glancing at Hoseok. He was right about coming. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Someone walks by with a tray of cheap champagne and all three of you take a glass, thanking the waiter. Tiffany sips her drink and gets down to the nitty-gritty. “So tell me, what do you do now?”

You brace yourself, knowing this was coming. “I’m working as an embryologist at a fertility lab.”

“That’s so cool!” Her eyes widen and she genuinely appears fascinated. “It sounds super fancy.”

You laugh, concealing the note of awkwardness in your voice. Tiffany doesn’t know that it sounds much better than it actually is. It’s an entire step down from being a family doctor, an occupation which you once said was your dream. And she has no clue that you’re struggling under your strict manager, that you just received a cut in pay and your hours are strenuous.

But you don’t dare show your exhaustion. Or your discontentment.

You keep flashing a bright smile.

Everyone in high school expected you to do great, that you would go somewhere, do something. You were the smart one. The hard-working one. There’s always been a certain burden of expectations on your shoulders from your parents to your teachers, and perhaps that’s where the need to prove yourself to your former peers stems. If they knew how mundane and regular and normal you turned out — instead of being the successful achiever — you’re sure their disappointment would have a bigger effect on you more than you’d ever admit. 

And maybe that’s why Hoseok offered to pretend to be your partner for the night after you grieved about not being with anyone, when you struggled to find a plus one. He knows you best after all.

“What are you doing?” you ask Tiffany, and she hesitates, looking down at her drink for a second.

“Actually, I’m in-between jobs at the moment.” She musters a smile. “The economy sucks right now.”

You sympathize. “Yeah, I know what you mean. It’s hard to find a job these days.”

Tiffany turns to Hoseok and when she asks what he’s been up to, he says, “Nothing much. I’m working in IT as a development manager for this company.”

“Oh, that’s super cool too!” She’s about to ask something, but then her eyes incidentally stray downwards. You follow her line of sight, realizing that she’s looking at the way you’re holding hands with Hoseok.

“We’re...actually dating now,” you explain.

Instantaneously, Tiffany brightens. “You guys started dating after high school? When?!”

You laugh awkwardly. “Two...three years ago?” It doesn’t sound terribly convincing, so you try a second time, standing your ground. “Two, I think.” It falls a bit short, but she doesn’t notice. 

No. Tiffany absolutely gushes. “That’s so cute! Oh my god! I always thought you’d both be good together!”

That has you taken aback. The relief of getting away with your lie and not being caught gets overtaken by surprise. “Really?”

“Well yeah. You were always close friends and everyone,” she emphasizes the word by drawing it out, “knew Hoseok had a huge crush on you.”

This was news to you.

But Hoseok outright ignores your stare in favour of smiling at your old friend and holding up your interlaced hands by your heads as if it’s a trophy. “Well, looks like I got the girl in the end.”

“Are you gonna propose any time soon then?”

There’s a glint of mischief in Hoseok’s eye. “Maybe.”

He’s way too good at lying. You’re starting to get convinced this is real.

“Aw, I wish I was at this honeymoon stage again. Everything’s so sweet and cute.”

Speaking of which. “Where’s Nick?” you ask.

Tiffany deflates slightly at the question and you wonder if you said something wrong. You don’t understand until she says, “Oh….yeah...we decided to split up a few months ago.”

“Really?” You would’ve never expected it. From what you remember, they were one of the few high school sweethearts that actually made it in the long run, a couple that you used to be jealous of at sixteen. They ended up getting married too and you saw pictures of them traveling together a year ago. Who knew what her life was actually like behind the scenes. “I’m...so sorry, Tiffany.”

“It’s alright. Life happens, I guess, but it all worked out in the end and we both have joined custody of Sunny. It gets messy sometimes but as long as she’s happy, I am too.” She smiles softly and then nods. “Well, it was really nice to catch up with you two. I’m happy to hear you’re going out. Better put a ring on this one before you lose her, Jung.”

“I will,” he promises.

Tiffany leaves to catch up with a girl she knew from choir, so you both bid your goodbyes. But somehow, the conversation leaves a bad taste in your mouth. 

After greeting a few more old friends and acquaintances, you leave to the hallway. 

The nostalgia slams into you, stronger than before. If you stare long enough, you can picture the hall crammed with your classmates, how you ran from class to class, sat in the desks, bored out of your mind and at times, stressed. The walls and rooms hold so many of your memories without them knowing. And that in itself makes you feel old and gray, even though you aren’t.

Not yet, at least. Hoseok always reassures you that you have another good thirty years before you’re allowed to call yourself old.

Said man glances at your expression and reads it like an open book. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You sigh. “It’s just….I don’t know. I was trying to save face this entire time and I even went as far as to lie about our relationship.”

“You didn’t do it alone. I lied too.”

“Yeah, but I wanted this.” You shake your head, slowly rounding a corner and making your way down what you remember as the science corridor. “People probably have more going on with themselves than to care what I’m up to. I don’t know why I was so scared about what they would think about me.” 

The corner of his mouth curls, and he nudges you with his elbow. “It’s high school.”

You lightly scoff but a smile tickles at your lips. “I just feel bad. Tiffany was so honest about herself, and she wasn’t ashamed about how her life turned out, not like I am.”

“No one turned out how they expected themselves to,” he hums in a thoughtful tone while glancing at the bulletin board tacked with handmade flyers for clubs. “It’s okay if you didn’t end saving the planet or finding the cure to cancer.”

You snort and soften. “Yeah.”

Hoseok always knows what to say to make you feel better.

“Look!” The peaceful moment is interrupted by the sheer volume of his voice. He points down the hall. “Our old lockers!”

You laugh, quickening your steps with his. The lockers are not technically yours anymore, they haven’t been for a long time and have probably been through tens of students since. Even right now, there are unfamiliar locks that keep them closed. But you still remember which one was yours.

You stand in front of it and Hoseok stands in front of his which is only three lockers down from yours.

The pair of you look at one another, exchanging grins. “Remember when I kept your math textbook for you since you were too lazy to put it away and we had to toss it to each other every morning?”

“Yeah. I never missed once.” He laughs and it’s a bubbly sound that’s exactly the same as back then. “Remember that time Taehyung stuffed himself inside my locker and we locked him in?”

You burst out laughing. “We almost got into trouble by Mr. Min!”

“Yep. That old man was always trying to pick on kids.”

“Except for that time Jimin launched that cake across the hall and it landed on some poor girl. He was nowhere to be found.”

Hoseok grins and comes over to lean on the blue locker next to yours, crossing his arms like he’s waiting for you before you’re late for the bell.

A sentimental feeling that is both wistful and happy washes you over again. You can recall those years as if they were yesterday. Namely, Hoseok would always be there when you closed your locker door, in the exact same position, staring at you with that identical warm expression. You don’t know a lot of your old high school friends anymore, don’t know what they’re doing or if they’ll come. It’s a natural progression of life, of going different paths and naturally drifting apart. 

But Hoseok has always been your side. Since then till now.

“So.” You turn to him. “What’s this about everyone knowing you had a crush on me?”

Hoseok goes wide-eyed and says nothing for a moment. Then he scratches the back of his neck. “Just stupid kid stuff.”

You raise a brow and hum. “Didn’t sound like stupid kid stuff. How long did you even like me for?”

“I don’t know. Why?”

“I’m curious.” You shrug. “I never heard about this before.”

Hoseok is embarrassed, that much is obvious. You can tell by the way he’s brushing around the subject, not looking you in the eyes, how much he’s hesitating. It’s not like him and that makes you even more intrigued. “A while.”

Maybe you shouldn’t push him so much when he doesn’t want to talk about it. But for some reason, there’s a burning desire inside of you to know. After all, you thought you knew all of your best friend’s secrets.

“What’s a while?”

“Like sixth grade?”

Your jaw drops. “So when we met?”

“Yeah..?” Hoseok seems unsure and he’s staring at the other wall as if it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. There’s nothing but a dirty shoe print on it. “Something like that.”

Now it’s your turn to be perplexed. Although, for an entirely different kind of reason. “But why?”

He turns his head, as if sensing you’re about to self-deprecate yourself. “You’re funny and smart and pretty, Y/N. Everyone liked you,” Hoseok explains it as if it’s factual and your cheeks grow warm.

You suck in your cheek, fiddling with the fabric of your dress. “Then why didn’t you ever tell me you liked me?”

“I was awkward and I was too scared you’d reject me,” he exhales and you glance at him to find an unreadable expression. Perhaps he’s uncomfortable at the idea now that he’s grown out of it and he knows you too well. Or maybe...just maybe...he’s filled with regret.

You shake off the thought before your imagination runs wild.

You’re about to drop the subject once and for all, but as you turn away, the quiet mutter slips from your mouth, “I wouldn’t have.”

Hoseok catches it. 

He freezes completely and when you realize he’s not following you back to the gymnasium, you turn around. “Earth to Hoseok. What’s wrong?” 

“What about now?”

“What?”

His expression is blank aside from the slight furrow of his brow. It’s not often Hoseok’s entirely serious and you’re caught off guard by his demeanour. He closes the distance in three strides and asks, “If I asked you out now, if I said I wanted to date you for real, would you reject me?”

His gaze is dark. Intense. As if he’s mustered up the courage he’s built for years for this very moment. 

Your mouth opens, eyes unable to look away from him and your voice pipes out a timid— “no.”

In an instant, Hoseok’s mouth is on yours. Your back slams against the lockers as he cradles your cheeks in his palms, tilting his head to capture your lips carefully yet eagerly. You whine in his grasps and quickly reciprocate, moving your mouth against his. It’s soft, warm and comforting. Hoseok has always been comforting to you. A slow burn rather than a bursting firework that eventually fades away. A warm bonfire that’s built from the first spark rather than a forest wildfire that ultimately burns out after consuming everything. 

You’ve always loved him. But perhaps it wasn’t always purely platonic like you thought. At least not until tonight where that’s been challenged.

Hoseok's body is firm and warm against yours. His knee is placed between your thighs and you loop your arms around his neck to get him even closer. Your senses are filled with his cologne, the lingering scent of his shaving cream and shampoo. Hoseok tastes like the champagne he drank and you’re beginning to feel dizzy from it. That or you’re running out of breath.

You whimper rather pathetically, but he doesn’t let up. Not until you push at his shoulder and he has to gather his self-restraint to part from you. 

You’re left panting heavily against him, lips swollen and Hoseok exhales before laughing. “I’ve always wanted to do that.” 

You grin. “Always?”

“I’ve been in love with you since we were kids. Practically.”

Never would you have thought Hoseok would kiss you against your lockers. It’s another memory you’re making in these walls even after years of graduating. But you’d like a second time to make up for all the others, so you start to tug Hoseok’s tie to get him closer again—

“Hey!” 

There’s an ear-splitting shout and the two of you flinch, whirling around to the end of the hall.

“You’re supposed to be in the gymnasium!” Old man Mr. Min is bumbling towards you with a cane, his voice surprisingly still full of power even when he looks like a sack of bones.

“Sorry!” You duck your head and before he can catch you, your hand entwines with Hoseok’s. The two of you dash down the hall as if you were still trouble-making high-schoolers.

Hoseok mutters in complete shock, “He’s still alive?!”

And you laugh, squeezing his hand just a bit tighter.

You return to the reunion and your heart is a bit lighter knowing this time, you don’t have to lie.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #hoseok fanfic #hoseok scenario #hoseok fluff #hoseok reader insert #hoseok x reader #Jimlings #Anonymous

[haus-seeblick]

Suptober Day 4 - Secrets

Title: “Messy”

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 3,503

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, John Winchester, Original Characters

Tags: John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Angst, Breaking The Rules, Dean is Sam's Real Parent (But he shouldn't have to be), Dean Giving Sam a Childhood, Dean Has Self-Esteem Issues, Dean Meets a Cute Boy, Unwanted Haircut, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Dean is 13 and Sam is 9

Summary: John leaves Dean and Sam alone at a motel the day before Halloween. Despite John's hard-and-fast rules about leaving the motel room, Sam convinces Dean to take him trick-or-treating. While they're out, Dean meets a boy who makes him feel like breaking the rules was worth it.

On AO3 Here

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Dean, you know the drill,” John says brusquely as he hoists the duffel over his shoulder. “Tell me the rules.”

Dean stands up from where he’s folding laundry on the motel room floor. They stopped at the laundromat this morning, John tossing Dean just enough quarters for two small loads before taking Sam along with him to the local library for research. They’ve been tracking a creature for days and John’s still not sure exactly what it is.

Dean would have loved to help with the books. Instead he sat in front of the laundry machine, exactly the same as the hundreds of others he’s fed with quarters over the years, and watched their clothes spin around and around. He noticed new holes in Sam’s jeans and socks when he moved them to the dryer. If his dad will let him use some of their wound-stitching thread, he’ll repair them after this hunt.

He faces his dad, posture straight and hands behind his back. “The rules are stay in the room, keep the doors and windows locked, don’t answer the door for anyone except you and Bobby, only spend money if I absolutely have to, and always have a weapon in reach,” he rattles off.

John nods, face impassive. “And the most important rule?”

“Protect Sammy,” Dean says firmly. He glances over to the rickety table under the window, where his scrawny little brother is filling out a worksheet. It’s part of the last round of homework their teachers had given them at their previous school, right before John took them out again to hit the road.

Dean quietly tossed his own homework in the garbage and told Sammy to finish every worksheet, because he was going to mail it back to the school and his teacher would check it. Sam’s even writing a letter in the cursive he’s learning to go along with it.

Dean has no clue what the address of the school is.

John pulls the Impala key out of his pocket and opens the door. “I’ll be out of cell range during this next leg. Check in date is Thursday. Don’t call for help until Sunday.”

Dean nods. John steps halfway out the door before turning back. He eyes Dean for a long moment, as if he’s trying to come up with something to add. Eventually he just says “I’m cutting your hair when I get back. You look messy.”

The door closes. In the silence of the room, Dean reaches up and touches his bangs. Just this morning, in the reflection of the washing machine door, he admired how his hair was curling a bit over his ears. It framed his face and made him look softer. Less skinny. More like the other boys he’d seen at school.

Oh well.

The Impala roars to life outside in the parking lot, and Dean listens until the purr of the engine fades away down the road. He looks at the half-folded pile of laundry at his feet.

“Tomorrow’s Halloween.”

Dean jumps a little. Sam’s right next to him, eyebrows raised expectantly. Dean pushes him away and drops onto the couch, nudging a balled-up pair of socks with his foot. “Don’t sneak up on me.”

Sam sits down next to him. “Dean, I think Dad forgot about Halloween.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “He didn’t forget, Sammy. It just doesn’t matter.” He avoids looking at his brother, running his fingers over the ridge of threads barely holding together the hole in his own jeans.

“But I told James I’d be a doctor,” Sam needles. “He’s gonna be a pirate.”

Sam’s ability to instantly make friends always leaves Dean feeling half-proud, half-nervous. Sam was in third grade with James for less than two weeks, and he still talks about him constantly.

Dean thinks it’s better not to get attached. He just can’t bring himself to teach Sam that particular lesson yet.

He sighs and glances at Sam. “You know you can’t trick-or-treat with James anyway, right? He’s in Denver.”

Sam groans dramatically and flops against the hard backrest of the couch. His shaggy hair falls into his face. Dean looks at the longest strands, curving past Sam’s cheekbones.

“We can just do Halloween here,” he suggests, even though he knows “buying candy from the gas station” definitely doesn’t count as necessary spending.

Sam shakes his head where it’s still resting on the couch. “That’s not real Halloween.”

“We’ve never done a real Halloween, so how would you know?” Dean’s just buying time now, putting off the moment when he has to say “no.”

The stink-eye that’s sent his way is of epic proportions. “I watch TV, Dean.”

Dean rubs his face. “Sammy--”

“--Oh, please, Dean, please!” Sam shifts into begging mode, sitting up and whipping out the puppy eyes. His left eye is half-covered by hair. “I know we’re not allowed, but can’t we break the rules just one time? It can be a secret.”

They hold eye contact for a moment, but Sam’s more stubborn. Dean looks away first, his eyes falling to the laundry on the floor. Almost unconsciously, he reaches under the lumpy couch cushion next to him and lets his fingers graze the pistol stashed there. His stomach rumbles and he wonders how far he can stretch their last cans of soup.

Suddenly, a secret doesn’t sound so bad at all.

“Okay,” he says.

Sam must’ve not expected Dean to relent, because he’s silent for a couple seconds before whooping and launching himself at Dean. “Ahh! Thank you thank you thank you!”

Dean can’t help the smile tugging at his lips. He hugs Sam back, the kid’s bony shoulder digging into his ribcage. After a moment, he pulls away and puts on his most serious face. Hands on Sam’s upper arms, he looks him straight in the eyes. “Sam, if we do this, you cannot tell Dad. Do you understand?”

Sam nods enthusiastically, still grinning. Dean digs his fingers into his arms. “Listen to me, or we’re not going.” He waits for Sam’s face to fall a little before continuing. “You can’t just not tell Dad, you can’t drop hints. You have to clean up all your wrappers. We can never talk about it. Do you get it?”

Sam’s eyes are wide now. He nods again, very small, and Dean knows he’s gotten through. He loosens his grip on Sam’s arms. “All right, then. How are we gonna make you look like a doctor?”

Sam beams.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next night, they lock the motel room door behind them and head out. The neighborhood that starts a few streets behind the motel is pretty normal, as far as Dean can tell. The houses aren’t super big, but the yards are, and there are toys scattered on some of the lawns. The biggest house on the corner even has a tree swing. The big tree reminds him of the one in their front yard in Lawrence. He tries not to think about that too much.

It’s dark, and chilly -- they’re still in Colorado -- and Dean holds his jacket closed in front of his chest. The zipper broke a couple weeks ago. Ahead of him, Sam doesn’t seem to feel the cold at all. His “doctor coat” flaps behind his legs as he skips down the sidewalk. It’s just a sheet from the bed that Dean stuck together with safety pins in a certain way (it doesn’t look like a coat at all, but the mirror in the motel bathroom was shattered so Sam couldn’t see it anyway). He hung their stethoscope from the big first-aid kit around Sam’s neck, with the express instruction not to lose it, and he emptied the rest of the first-aid kit onto the couch so Sam could carry the empty box with the big red cross and look professional.

Sam hasn’t smiled this much in weeks. Dean’s neck is crawling with the knowledge that he’s breaking rules, bigtime, but he shakes it off. They’re out now. It’s done.

Sam has already latched on to a group of kids making their way up the drive to a single-story brick house. Dean hears him introduce himself, sees him flash the big toothy smile that Dean told him makes him look friendly. The other kids compliment his stethoscope, and Dean relaxes a little.

Everyone in the group is wearing what looks like homemade costumes, too — there’s another bedsheet, draped over a short kid’s head like a ghost (if only ghosts actually looked like that, Dean thinks); and a long black coat, obviously from an adult, dwarfing a kid who Dean’s pretty sure is supposed to be a vampire. Sam, in his makeshift getup, fits right in.

Dean’s trailing behind the group, letting Sam do his making-friends thing, when he notices another older kid doing the same. He looks about Dean’s age, maybe a year older, fourteen or so, and he’s dressed like an angel with a blue halo made out of pipe cleaners. The rest of his outfit is normal, though — a t-shirt that’s printed to look like a suit and tie, under a regular puffy winter coat. Dean’s eyes linger on him as they follow the younger kids up to the house. When they come to a stop so Sam can ring the doorbell, the other boy looks over at Dean, too.

“Hi,” he says. In the yellow glow of the porchlight, his eyes look greenish blue. “I’m Al.” He reaches out a hand. Dean looks at it for a moment, then takes it. They shake. Al’s hand is warm and smooth, a stark contrast to Dean’s freezing, calloused palm. Dean wishes he could hold on a bit longer.

“Dean,” he replies, dropping Al’s hand. He’s not sure what to say next. That’s Sam’s area of expertise.

Luckily, Al doesn’t let him flounder long. “Do you live around here?” he asks, friendly and curious. Dean’s used to hearing that question asked with a thick layer of suspicion, usually out of the mouth of some nosy adult. He still gives his practiced answer, though.

“No, me and my brother are just visiting our grandparents for a couple days.”

Al nods, accepting the lie easily. “I thought I’d never seen you at school.” He points at the sheet-clad ghost. “That’s my sister Katie. She’s seven. It’s the first time our parents are letting me take her trick-or-treating on our own.”

Dean smiles and gestures at Sam, who’s holding the empty first-aid kit out to the homeowner for candy. “That’s Sam. He’s nine. Same deal for us.”

“I like his costume,” Al says. Dean bristles for a moment, until he realizes Al’s being sincere.

“Thanks,” he replies. “I like Katie’s too.” He sweeps his eyes over Al again. “Why are you wearing a fake suit with your halo?”

Al looks down at himself and laughs sheepishly, smoothing down the front of his t-shirt. “I wanted to do a toga with a sheet, but it’s way too cold. I just dressed up ‘cause Katie wanted me to. The halo was the quickest thing.”

“It works,” Dean assures him, suddenly wanting Al to feel good about himself. He shuffles his feet a little, kicking at the fallen leaves littering the walkway. Al smiles at him and something grows in Dean’s chest, a warm, glowing ball, making everything feel tight and tingly. He’s not sure what to do with it.

Sam appears at his elbow suddenly, much to Dean’s relief. He ruffles Sam’s hair. “What’d you get?”

Already chewing on something that looks very caramelly as it squishes between his teeth, Sam holds out the first-aid kit. “She gave me two big ones!” he announces around his mouthful. Two full-sized Milky Ways, one already half-unwrapped, slide around in the box.

“Cool,” Dean says. “Don’t get a stomachache.”

“They’re gonna get stomachaches,” Al says ruefully as Sam and Katie bounce down the driveway to hit the next house. “We should steal some of their candy, y’know, just to protect them.”

The word protect briefly jolts Dean out of his growing sense of relaxation and he sneakily pats his chest, feeling the sheathed knife tucked away in the inside pocket. He makes sure he can still see Sammy (now bounding up the walkway of the next house), and takes a breath. Everything’s under control.

“You okay?” Al’s looking at him with his eyebrows drawn together, a lock of dark hair falling into the crease. He has nice hair, Dean decides. Floppy and kind of messy, squished flat in the middle by the band of the pipe cleaner halo.

“Yep,” he says, forcing the cheer into his voice. If Al notices, he doesn’t say anything. They continue to follow their siblings through the neighborhood, leaving some distance so they can talk. Al tells Dean about school, that he likes science and hates history, that his favorite band is Journey, that he wants to play soccer but his dad wants him to play football, and that he wants to be a veterinarian.

“I like cars,” Dean says in response. “I’m not great at school. Not sure what I wanna do when I grow up.”

Not sure how to tell you that I’ll probably be hunting monsters for the rest of my life.

Al leans on the picket fence of the house that they’re currently waiting outside. “You could be a teacher,” he says.

Dean narrows his eyes at him in confusion. “I just told you I’m bad at school.”

Al shrugs. “My favorite teacher says he didn’t like school. That’s why he’s so good at helping us. He gets it.”

The heavy layer of clouds above them breaks, and a ray of moonlight lands across Al’s face. They’re standing between streetlights, so the silvery glow makes Al’s blueish eyes gleam. Dean finds he has to breathe a little harder than normal. He shakes his head.

“Nah, if anyone’s gonna be a teacher, it’s Sammy. He’s really smart.”

Al hums and pushes off the fence. Sam and Katie are moving on again. “I don’t know, man. You seem smart to me.” He pats Dean on the shoulder, the warmth of his hand seeping through Dean’s threadbare jacket.

In the relative darkness, Dean smiles so hard his eyes squeeze shut.

Eventually, they’ve stopped at every house in the neighborhood. Dean’s pockets are full of the candy that doesn’t fit into Sam’s overflowing first-aid kit. Al’s coat pockets are bulging, too. Sam and Katie run sugar-hyped circles under a streetlight while Dean and Al stand on the corner, looking at each other a bit awkwardly.

“Uh-- I’m glad we ran into you guys,” Al says finally. “You’re really cool.”

Dean’s glad that he’s the one facing away from the streetlight, because his cheeks heat up and probably look way pinker than they would from just the cold.

“You too,” he says. “Wish we lived around here.”

“Where do you live?” Al asks. “You know, just in case we ever take a road trip.”

Unless your destination’s my dad’s car, I don’t think you’re gonna run into me.

“Sioux Falls,” he says. “South Dakota. I live with my uncle.”

If Al finds that strange, he doesn’t pry. Dean could hug him. He wants to hug him.

Katie comes barrelling over, dragging her pillowcase of candy along the pavement. She’s huffing from running around, ghost sheet dangling half off her body. “Al, I’m soooo tired.” She flops against her brother. Sam comes trotting up behind her and grins at Dean. Dean tries to smile back, but there’s a lump in his throat, something that’s making it hard to breathe.

Al pats Katie on the head. “We should probably go home, anyway. It’s getting late.”

Still taking tight little breaths, Dean nods. “Uh-- yeah, us too. See if Sam can sleep off the sugar rush.”

“How long are you staying with your grandparents?” Al asks.

Dean looks at his feet. Weighs the pros and cons of sneaking out again. He’d have to take Sam; there aren’t actually any grandparents who could watch him.

He can’t risk it.

“We’re going home tomorrow morning,” he says, every word dropping like lead. Sam shoots him a confused look, but he ignores it.

Unless he’s imagining it, Al’s face seems to fall. “Aw, too bad. Wait! Hang on.” He rummages through his candy-heavy pockets until he pulls out a little spiral notebook and a nub of a pencil. He writes something on a page and rips it out. He hands it to Dean.

“Our phone number,” he says with a little smile. He steps forward and the streetlight catches his eyes again. Dean thinks that in the sunlight, they’d be bright blue. Al gestures at the paper. “You’ve got a phone at your uncle’s, right? Maybe you can call me sometime.”

There are way too many feelings jumbling around in Dean’s chest for him to say anything coherent, so he just nods. Al smiles wider. “Cool. I’m happy we met you.” He takes one more step forward and — Dean stops breathing altogether — wraps his arms briefly around Dean’s shoulders. He’s very warm. His hair smells good. Dean’s brain doesn’t catch up quite in time, and he misses his chance to hug back. The edge of Al’s halo brushes Dean’s forehead as he pulls away.

“Thanks for hanging out,” Al says, putting his arm around Katie’s shoulders and turning to go. “Have a good drive back home!”

Dean clears his throat. “Bye, guys,” he says lamely. Sam waves enthusiastically to make up for it. They stand under the streetlight for a long few minutes, watching Al and Katie go.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam manages to eat every piece of candy by Thursday morning, which is the day they’re supposed to hear from John. Dean makes him eat canned vegetable soup in between meals of Mars bars and Skittles. They scrounge the motel room for wrappers, tossing them all into a big garbage bag that Dean’s going to throw into the dumpster outside. He finishes folding the laundry, counts the money to make sure it’s all there, re-packs the first aid kit, and puts the sheet back on the bed without the safety pins.

Anytime the unease creeps in about having broken the rules, he looks at his brother’s shining face and pushes it back down. He and Sam rehearse their story in case John asks them what they did and Sam even finishes all of his worksheets. Dean folds them up and hides them at the very bottom of his duffle. He tells Sam he put them into the mailbox in the motel office.

And every few hours, he pulls the folded little piece of notebook paper out of his pocket and looks at it. In careful handwriting, Al had written:

Alan Montgomery

(from Halloween. I hope you call.)

And his phone number.

Thursday afternoon, Dean takes the candy-wrapper garbage bag out to the parking lot. At the last second, he pulls Al’s note out of his jeans. After a long moment of reading and re-reading it, he gently folds it back up and tosses it into the bag. He throws the whole thing into the dumpster.

But not before memorizing the number.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

John gets home late Thursday night. Before they check out of the motel on Friday, John sits Dean down on the toilet seat in the bathroom and pulls out his electric clippers.

While John has his back turned, plugging in the clippers by the sink, Dean pushes his hand through his hair, feeling the soft strands bunch up between his fingers and fall back down onto his ears. He remembers Al’s messy hair brushing his cheek when they hugged.

John flips the clippers on and the buzzing fills the bathroom. For the second time, Dean is glad that the mirror is shattered.

With every lock of hair that tumbles to the ground, Dean recites Al’s number in his head.

“There,” John says gruffly, after the floor and Dean’s lap are littered with honey brown strands. “You look like a man again.”

Dean stands up, brushing off his jeans. His head feels cold. “I’ll get a broom,” he says.

He’s halfway out the bathroom door when John says “Dean.”

Dean freezes, already wondering where he left a wrapper, how John found the garbage bag, if Sam let something slip. He slowly turns back. John’s wrapping the cord around the clippers.

“I need you to come on the next hunt. We’ll drop Sam off at Bobby’s.”

Bobby’s, where the telephone is. Dean’s heart beats hard for a different reason now. He tries to look casual. “Are we gonna stay for a bit?”

John’s already shaking his head before Dean’s done talking. He pushes past him and drops the clippers into his duffel bag on the bed. “No. We’ll be on the road for a while.” He stops and looks at Dean. “Weren’t you going to find a broom?”

Dean loads a dustpan with his hair and empties it on top of the garbage bag in the dumpster.

He whispers Al’s number again.

#suptober21 #sorry for the angst #it's Hating John Hours over here #Al is not intended to be a time-traveling Cas btw #I just liked the idea of a pipe-cleaner halo and of Dean having a type #Anyway Dean is Sam's parent #Fuck John Winchester #Dean deserved a cute teenage boyfriend #spn fanfic #ficlet

[marvelbbyx]

Can I Be Him? (Carol Danvers x Fem! Reader)

Summary: You and Carol have been the bestest of friends for years and years, to you it’s simply platonic. Whereas for Carol, she tortures herself constantly pining after you. The situation only gets worse when you get engaged to your boyfriend of three years and Carol has to leave for a mission (that could more or less take her six years to get back from).

The day before Carol has to leave, she admits her feelings for you, giving you two choices: to leave him and go with her or stay with him and get married.

Who will you choose and what will be your outcome?

Author’s Note: Yeah, I’m gonna make this a two parter lol since I wanna be dramatic. But stay tuned for tomorrow’s add on! 😁

Fic inspired by James Arthur’s song Can I Be Him? Which was 1000% the reason I wrote this.

Warnings! ANGST

Part Two Here!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You walked into the room and now my heart has been stolen.

You took me back in time to when I was unbroken.

Now you're all I want.

And I knew it from the very first moment,

'Cause a light came on when I heard that song and I want you to sing it again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Carol, stop! You’re cheating!” You shriek as her Mortal Kombat character starts to pummel yours into a bloody pulp.

“How is it that you’re the one that taught me this game, yet—I’m kicking your ass.” The blonde says with a cocky smirk. “Guess you just suck.”

“Or my controller’s stuck.” You shot back.

“Yeah, okay,” She rolled her eyes playfully.

You two were at your apartment, it was your day off and you wanted nothing more than to relax at home, Carol just happened to sweeten the deal with a case of beer and some pizza.

The Captain and the Avenger, or as the others like to call you—Bert and Ernie. You and Carol were about as thick as thieves and you were never really seen without each other hardly ANYWHERE around the compound. It all started when Carol had been assigned a partner to accompany her on a mission to The Garden back in 2018. Everyone swore that you two wouldn’t get along, with your ability to plan ahead and Carol’s ability to...not plan ahead it was bound to be a recipe for disaster. But after a few jokes here and there and a battle later on you two became inseparable.

Nothing could shake or disrupt the bond that you two had, all except for one thing...him.

Carol had beaten you three times in the past five minutes, she offered a final round after noticing your frustration only to win again within seconds.

“Well, well, well,” Carol throws her arms behind her head. “What’s my score again, four? And what’s yours, zip?”

The playful challenge in her gaze stirred your competitive edge, the one that hated to lose and absolutely hated being out of control. Especially in the game of your choosing.

You cross your arms over your chest and pouted like a child, “It’s only because you cheated.” You huffed.

“Yeah, keep on telling yourself that, babe. Don’t be mad because you’re a sore loser.” She teased.

“Re-Match then.” You challenged with a grin. “If I win, you’ll do whatever I say. Same thing goes if you win.”

Carol’s brows lift up in intrigue, “Oh yeah? Like what?”

“That’s something we’ll have to figure out on our own time.” You say. You extend your hand out for Carol to shake. “So, do we have a deal, Danvers?”

She takes your hand, shaking it firmly. “We do.”

Her grip on your hand lingers longer than she meant to, yours were baby soft compared to hers, each callus and dry patch were a layout of her life, each held a story and meaning.

You slid your hand out from her grasp when you heard the door open and shut. You turned your head in the direction of the approaching footsteps, a smile forms on your lips when you hear, “Sweetheart? I’m home!”

“Hi, honey!” You call out.

Kevin Davis, your boyfriend of three years. A man as sweet as they came, someone that would move Heaven and Earth for you. He was a doctor helping out at the compound and you just so happened to come back from a mission with some severe battle damage. Long story short, you two fell in love and moved in together.

Carol forces her best smile before her eyes met with your boyfriend’s. “Hey, Kevin.”

“Hey, Car.” He greets with a small smile.

Carol hated that nickname. Much more than she hated him.

Not that he was a bad guy. Kevin was actually a great guy, always able to help out and very friendly. She didn’t hate him for that though, she hated how you would look at him when he told a joke or how your eyes would light up when you talked about him. But what Carol had hated most of all...was that it wasn’t her.

A portion of her heart dies as she sees you stand up to kiss him, you two talked and acted as if she wasn’t there, which made her want to scream and cry until her throat went raw. These feelings began the first time she met you. After the Snap, everyone was expected to mourn and remember the loved ones who vanished. Carol was dealing with losing a loved one as well. Her best friend, her rock, and the only family she had, Maria Rambeau, who had passed away from cancer.

You were there when she went and comforted her immediately after. Your bond strengthened since that day, as well as Carol’s feelings for you.

“I should be heading out,” Carol drew herself to her feet. “I gotta get up early for a meeting.”

“No, Carol you don’t have to leave, we can continue our game.” You tried to convince her.

‘I’d rather chew on barbed wire than to be in the same room with him.’

But instead of saying that, she bites her tongue and simply shakes her head. “It’s okay, Y/N, I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

You gave a soft smile. “Okay.”

“Bye, Kevin.” The words produced the taste of bile to spread on her tongue.

“Bye, Carol.” Kevin says with his unrelenting smile.

Carol manages to make it to the car before she bursts into violent tears.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I swear that every word you sing, you wrote them for me.

Like it was a private show, I know you never saw me.

When the lights come on and I'm on my own,

Will you be there to sing it again?

Could I be the one you talk about in all your stories?

Can I be him?

I heard there was someone but I know he don't deserve you.

If you were mine I'd never let anyone hurt you, no, no.

I wanna dry those tears, kiss those lips.

It's all that I've been thinking about.

'Cause a light came on when I heard that song and I want you to sing it again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Six years.

Six years on recon for a planet held hostage by some alien heretics, a distress call was sent and Carol was the only one who had answered. Six years and a million light years away from Earth, and a million light years away from you.

Carol had to leave early the next morning and wouldn’t have the chance to say goodbye to you before she left. So she decided to head over to your apartment for the re-match, once there; she found saying goodbye to be much more difficult than anticipated. Especially when you would greet her with such a smile that was now burned into her memory.

She tried not to think about it at all while you were playing the game, she tried not think of anything while playing.

“How are you beating me again?” You cried in disbelief watching Carol’s character slice yours in three parts.

“I told you I was good, you just didn’t believe me.” She smiles smugly. “Looks like I’m gonna win the bet.”

“You can try,” You challenged as you poked your tongue out at her.

Carol regained her focus back to the video game, having you on the ropes and your character’s life bar hanging on by a thread. It wasn’t until you lifted your left hand to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear that she caught glimpse of the gold engagement ring practically beaming up at her.

That was when she paused the game.

You gave a puzzled look. “What’d you do that for?”

Instead of answering you she stood up quickly, turning her back to you as she tried to fight the tears that threatened to slip down her cheeks. Engaged, how could you be engaged? And why with him?

“Carol?” You called softly.

“You weren’t gonna tell me...about the ring?” She asks, doing her best to hold off on crying.

Your eyes dart down to the gold band on your finger, fiddling with it gently. You yourself were quite shocked about it, the second that Carol left was when Kevin had proposed to you.

“I didn’t know how to say it,” You murmur. “I wanted to tell you first before I told everyone else.”

“So you decided to wear it and hope that I’d notice?” She chuckles.

“I was gonna talk to you after the game, ya know...if you hadn’t paused it.” You say as you awaited some form of a retort from your best friend, only to get no response. “Are you okay?”

Carol remained quiet for a few minutes, allowing the warm streams of water to fall down her cheeks. Burning as they did. Before you had the chance to ask again, Carol’s lips part to speak, the tears evident in her voice, “Why’d you say yes?”

“What?” You blinked up at her. “What do you mean?”

“I’m asking why him?” Her lip trembles.

“And I’m asking what brought this up?” You retort. “Because you’ve never said anything about this before and...and I don’t understand why now?”

She sighs before turning to you, her eyes pink and swollen. “Why now?”

You nod.

“Because I loved you since the beginning but I didn’t know it yet, and I especially didn’t know that it would hurt to love you this much.” Carol tells you, crying harder. “Especially when you talk about him.”

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” Your throat constricted as unshed tears stung your eyes. “Waiting until now to say something doesn’t change anything, Carol. You can’t just—“

“I’m leaving for a mission tomorrow,” She says abruptly. “...for six years.”

The words that formed on your tongue evaporated instantly, gazing up at her with quiet intensity. “When we’re you going to tell me?”

“Today.” She replies.

“And that was supposed to soften the blow?”

“I thought—“

“No,” It was your turn to cut her off. “You can’t just drop a bomb on me like this.”

“You’re one to talk, when were you going to tell me that you were engaged?” She shot back, your silence being the response that she needed. “I thought so.”

You fiddled with your ring again, the band was heavy now feeling as if it would constrict your finger. “I loved you too...from the start, and I still do. I waited for you—to step in at any moment. I pushed Kevin away multiple times because you’re the one that I wanted. And...I still want you. Only you, Carol. If you would’ve said something then I wouldn’t be engaged. But now it’s too late.”

“Come with me,” She cried. “Please...”

You shake your head slowly, your tears flowing down your cheeks with haste. “I can’t—“

“Yes, you can. Leave him. Leave him and...and come with me. Please, Y/N.” Carol begged. “You say it’s too late but you still have time. We still have time. Come with me...please.”

“Carol, I—“

And before you were able to finish your answer, the door opened and Kevin walked in, “Hi, baby! I’m home!”

“Hi, honey.” You reply quietly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To be continued....👀

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag list: @captains-simp

If anyone else would like to be tagged just let me know! ☺️

#brie larson #captain marvel #carol danvers #carol danvers x reader #carol danvers imagine #carol danvers angst

[scorsoneamelia]

hey hope you’re having a good day!

prompt: amelias sisters come to visit after scouts born and and find out about scout.

thank you so much i hope you’re having a good day too!!! <333

ALSO shoutout to @afsalta for helping me with this one!!

            There was resentment, or maybe it was just pure hatred. Ever since she was old enough to form memories, there was always absolute disgust on her sister’s faces when it came to Amelia, or it could have also been disappointment, maybe even embarrassment. Embarrassed that their little sister wasn’t like them, instead they thought she was a mess; a mess that they convinced themselves she was going to be for as long as they lived. No matter how many years were under her belt for sobriety, she will always be that young girl that had shadows casting over face, pale skin and heavy eyes, sitting on the edge of a sidewalk, across from a bar with her head spinning and a handful of orange pills laying flat in her palm. A girl that stole the prescription pad of her older brother, crashing his white Mustang because she was too fucked up to drive. The same girl that used her own prescription pad to write doses for her and her boyfriend, him overdosing in the process. For as long as she could remember, they will always see her as a drunk or as a junkie who didn’t have her life together and never will.

            A shadow, Derek always had a shadow and most would argue that it was her; following in her brothers foot steps but never being able to be successful. There was always competition, more so with her older brother and there was always a weight on her chest, a pressure into being as great as him; as great as her sisters. Success and failure didn’t come together as they believed he was successful and she wasn’t; rather she was a failure. The weight that sat on her shoulders was always pulling her down, making her believe that she’ll never be Amelia Shepherd, never her own person, instead she’ll forever be that girl screaming at her friends during an intervention about how much she wants drugs; needs drugs. Amelia believes that she’s just as great as he is and she can truly say that she’s proud of herself, proud of who she became and how far she’s come. The competition of her not being as successful, as normal as her family, has and always will be weighing her down because in their eyes she will always be the messy little sister who cannot be trusted.

            She didn’t talk to her family, didn’t call, didn’t visit, Derek was the only exception and even then, they didn’t communicate as much as she would have hoped. Usually she calls her mom, keeping in touch as much as she could but the resentment and pain she has still lingered, since her own mom left her alone on her wedding day. Her big day, one of the most important days of her life and her mom refused to go despite her own daughter begging for her to attend. It was unbearable pain, a pain that wasn’t worth for her to continue to put herself through so instead she found her true family, her friends back in Los Angeles and her sisters, her children and her nieces and nephew. Amelia was content, her sisters words that used to haunt her no longer lingered in the back of her head because she knew she was better than the Amelia that her family decided to create.

             At least that’s what she thought; being content and happy. She realized she was mistaken when a chill was being sent down her spine, a shiver that made goosebumps form on her arms, enough to make the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

             “Kathleen?” Amelia breathed, her sister was stood outside the front door, the other sister standing not too far behind. “Nancy?”

             “Amelia? Where have you been?” Nancy turned so she was facing Amelia and both girls had disgusted looks on their face, a look that was so familiar to her.

              “I live in Seattle, I have since Derek gave me this job,” she started, a confused look on her face and her sisters were giving it back, probably because there was a toddler in her arms and he was propped up on her hip. “What are you doing here?”

               “We talked to Meredith,” Kathleen stated. “We’re here to visit her and the kids.” They might as well just stabbed her right in the chest and twisted, because she felt something in her chest, pain; they weren’t there to see her. Amelia shouldn’t be surprised though, she didn’t visit either.

                So instead of making it a big deal, not allowing to show that it bothered her, she stepped aside to allow her two sisters into the house. After all, it was Meredith’s house, not hers. The part that Amelia dreaded was that Meredith wasn’t here yet, the kids had just been getting off of school, so in the entire house it was her, Link and their baby; a baby they had no idea she had. “I didn’t know Meredith had another one.” And there was a light in Nancy’s eyes, some kind of love and affection that was beaming through her facial features, a finger being lifted to brush softly across the toddler’s face.

                “She didn’t,” Link had come around the corner, thankfully he noticed that they showed up; her cruel sisters that he had met once, not ever wanting to be caught in another situation with them. But here he was, standing behind Amelia, a hand brushing softly across her lower back. “This is Scout. Ours.”

                 The love and affection that had previously been coming through her eyes was replaced with disappointment, and there was a shudder that came from Kathleen. “You had a secret baby?”

                 She brushes off their reactions, trying not to let it phase her because that part of her life was over; the part where she let her sisters control how she feels about herself. “This is Scout, he’s a year now,”

                “Does Mom know?” Nancy asked, her eyes wide, similar to Link’s although he was shocked for opposite reasons. “How could you keep this from us? We’re family.”

                 Amelia’s eyes were rolling and she was irritated. “You guys lost the privilege of knowing what goes on in my life when mom chose not to come to my wedding and the last time I tried to visit you, I was humiliated.”

                Nancy’s arms were being crossed in front of her chest, her eyebrow raised and she was glancing at Link, a nod in his direction. “You’ve managed not to scare him off. Aren’t we all surprised? After all, he might just be the best one yet.”

                This time Link rolled his eyes, his body was tense from behind her and Amelia knew he was forcing himself from speaking up. “Forget it,” Amelia hummed, passing Scout off to Link and she was making her way to the kitchen. This conversation was over because she decided it was.

               “So, Scout?” Nancy asked, now suddenly both of them had an interest in meeting her son; their nephew. Amelia doesn’t care though, she didn’t love them the same way she loved Maggie, or Meredith, she never loved them the same way she loved Derek. To her, they were just people she grew up with, people she knew, biology is utter crap and they weren’t her sisters, not to her at least.

              Once Meredith arrives, she’ll let her take the matter into her own hands considering they weren’t there for her and they most definitely weren’t there for Scout. They were there for Meredith. “I’ve gotta say, I’m surprised with you, Amy.” 

               “It’s Amelia.” She corrected Nancy, which resulted in the older sister waving her hand off in dismissal, her attention only drawn to the baby and Link, who was being friendly as always. She wishes she was more like him, was able to put up with this kind of shit. There was a sound of a car engine coming closer before it came to a stop, meaning Meredith and the kids were home. This meant she could wander, go somewhere else in the house to hide because frankly, seeing her sisters was the last thing on her list to do for the day. 

                So that’s what she did, made her way up the set of stairs while Meredith greeted them, offering them coffee, tea, water, literally anything. They all agreed on coffee, but Kathleen was talking loud enough for Amelia to hear. “Is there no alcohol in this house?”

#stories #SORRY ITS SO SHORT I WAS STUCK #amelia and link #amelia x link #amelia shepherd #ameliafics #amelinkfics #link and amelia #amelia #greys anatomy #greysanatomyfics #atticus link #amelink

[inkandpen22]

All I Want (1/4)

Request: I would honestly be happy with anything you write! Maybe a slow burn with Sirius x Reader where their relationship is kind of like lily x James and Hermione x Ron idk 😂 I’m not really sure aaaaaah

Pairing: Sirius Black x Female!Reader 

Warnings: none 

Word Count: 1.4k

Part Summary: Y/N and Sirius are in a FWB situation but they’ve also been best friends since First Year. When the Spring Ball rolls around, things get interesting, but they always are with these two. 

A/N: sorry this took ages to get out! Hope you like it! X

Masterlist

Sirius

While James and I walk to potions, he continues to nag me about the upcoming dance. He acts as if I can’t ask a girl out. I have it all planned: don’t worry about it until the day before.

“You need a date,” James warns.

“Well that’s easy,” I dismiss

“That’s true, he could ask a Slytherin and even she would consider it,” Remus remarks, appearing on my other side.

“No, I already have someone in mind,” I correct with a smug expression.

“Who?” James presses.

Right on cue, my favorite girl appears down the hall with Evans. Merlin, she is utterly perfect. Her perfect hair, skin, walk, smile.

“Y/N! Morning,” I greet as the boys and I approach the duo.

“Good afternoon,” she smiles, already giving me her full attention.

“Ooh, makes sense,” James notes, finally piecing together who I plan on asking.

“Y/N/N, I have a proposition for you.” I place my palm to the small of her back to guide her away from the group. 

“Oh no,” she expresses a tad worriedly. 

“It’s nothing bad!” I defend with a chuckle, though her reaction is fair considering the amount of trouble I've gotten her into over the years. 

“You said that last time and last time I got covered in poison ivy!" She reminds. 

“The Spring Ball,” I state. 

“Yes?” She inquires with a raised brow. 

I can feel the eyes of James and my other friends from a few feet away. Their frequent murmuring is hard to ignore. 

“Go with me,” I request to Y/N plainly. 

“Mmm," she thinks it over a moment. "Nope." 

Wait, what? 

“And why not?” I frown. 

“Because,” she shrugs and starts back toward our friends. 

I grab her wrist, bringing her to a halt. “Is this because of the dragon joke? I told you I was kidding!”

“Nope,” she replies purposefully vague. 

I release her wrist and she strolls back to our friends. I look to Evans for answers and she shrugs. 

“I know nothing,” she tells me as Y/N locks arms with her before walking off. 

I'm left surrounded by my fellow Marauders, watching in awe as my girl, my girl walks away from me. 

"What the bloody hell just happened?" I ask to answer who can answer. 

James places his arm over my shoulders. "Dunno mate, guess she's not so much "your's" as you thought," he laughs. 

"Oh really, huh?" I playfully shove my best friend in the chest to get off of me. "Well I think otherwise! I'll prove it too. By this weekend, Y/N will say yes." 

_________________________

Y/N

For most of the afternoon, I hide away in the library to study for a potions exam. Lily is supposed to meet hereafter her class. If I didn't have Lily as my friend/free tutor, I don't know what I'd do. 

"Hello, Love." 

The sound of Sirius's voice interrupts my studying. Then, a pair of lips meet mine. The kiss feels almost taboo with its intensity in such a public setting. Nevertheless, I embrace the affection. Sirius is like a drug that I can't get enough of, that I can never satisfy. 

He parts from me but lingers mere inches from my face. 

"Hello to you too," I greet with a pleased grin. 

"You look phenomenal," he compliments as he moves to sit beside me in Lily's seat. 

"Sirius, that's-" 

"Go with me!" He doesn't hesitate to ask me again. 

"Nope," I answer, unfazed, as I return to my studies. 

"Why not?!" Sirius whines, fussing like a young child. 

"Because!" I laugh, isn't it obvious? 

"Oh yes, that's a fair argument! Go on!" He mocks. 

"This is an argument, I just don't feel like going!" I giggle, trying my best to focus on my school work. 

When Sirius is around I never fail to get distracted. 

"But everyone's going!" He drags out. 

I close my book and face the jet black haired boy with similarly dark eyes. He's so pretty it's annoying. 

"So if everyone jumped off a cliff you would too?" I raise a brow. 

"If James did it, yeah," he shrugs nonchalantly. 

"Oh, dear Merlin," I mutter under my breath as I face the table again. 

Sirius shifts closer to me. I abruptly feel his warm hand glide up my thigh from the knee and I inhale sharply. 

"So you'll shag me, but you won't go with me to a ball?" He purrs in my ear. 

Sirius dangerously slips his fingers under the fabric of my skirt. I swallow hard, glancing over at Madame Pince as she sits behind her desk reading a book. 

"You know, we're really breaking gender stereotypes right now," I laugh nervously as he continues his pursuit. "Usually, in a friends-with-benefits scenario, it's the girl who begs for more from the guy. Look at you being revolutionary!" 

"Spring Ball, you and me, a bottle of firewhiskey, trip to the Astronomy Tower after," he smirks, rubbing his hand up and down my inner thigh. 

"Sounds real romantic," I sass breathlessly, as I try to remain relaxed. 

"Oh, you want romantic?" He raises a brow with a smirk. "I can make the Room of Requirement look real nice." 

"Knowing the students of this school, I feel like you're not the only one with that idea," I insinuate jokingly. 

He leans forward, planting a kiss on my cheek. "Y/N, sweet, kind, charming, beautiful...” He lowers his lips to my neck where he knows it'll make me squirm. 

"Sirius," I mutter his name warningly as I keep a sharp eye on the librarian. 

I bite down my lip and melt into the sensation of his soft lips on the base of my neck. He lifts his head to meet my gaze proudly.

 "Y/N, will you please do me the honor of escorting you to the ball?" He grins. 

"Ye-no," I nod slowly, pursing my lips. 

"You're lucky you're so damn hot," he pecks my lips. "Otherwise I'd kill you." 

"I'm so flattered," I tease the boy with a giggle. 

"As you should be, Darling," he leans in again and kisses me. "I will convince you to go with me," he assures against my lips. 

"Looking forward to it," I mumble. 

"Okay, I have to go before I distract you further," he reluctantly pulls away. "I'll see you tonight!" He rises from his chair to head out. 

"But I have-" 

"Nope," he holds up his hands before I can decline. "You and me, us, Room of Requirement at seven sharp." 

"Yeah, yeah, I know the drill," I wave my hand dismissively as I prepare to return to my studies. 

"Oh yes you do," he purrs and leans down to peck my lips with a smirk. "Bye, bye, Baby." 

"Later," I wave goodbye to my friend. 

As the boy strolls out of the library, he salutes Madame Pince. "Madame, always a pleasure." 

I snicker quietly to myself, and as though he could hear me, Sirius turns around and sends me a wink. 

It's almost ironic that he's named after a star considering that's exactly what he is, he's a bright, unique, light. I look at him and music plays in my head. Is there something wrong with me? Sirius and I have been best friends since First Year. Five years later and we're a little more than friends, but not dating. It all started during our Fourth Year, Halloween night. We both got drunk at the Gryffindor party and well... one can guess. Ever since then, we've acted as though we're dating, but neither of us has said it out loud. Sirius and I have hooked up with random people since then to keep it casual as we agreed. Yet, in the last year, we've both stopped. Neither he nor I have mentioned that fact. I'm just assuming he has hooked up with other girls and hasn't told me or he has his eyes on someone but is waiting. I've tried to conjure up the emotion to show interest in another boy, but I haven't felt anything toward anyone except Sirius in the last two years. Drunken hookups have happened, but they don't mean anything. With Sirius, it's not supposed to mean anything either, yet it feels different. It feels right if that makes sense. It's comfortable yet never boring, nothing about us is boring. I'm not sure what I want or what to make of it. All I know is I'm more comfortable where I am than where I would be if this were to end. I rather be his 'something' than nothing. 

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Tags: @hyperactiveravenclaw

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