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urvenicebtch · 2 years

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Long Enough

(gif found in a reblog, doesn’t belong to me)

-----Pairing: survivor!Bucky x survivor!reader

Summary: living in a tent with him was risky from the start, but you never expected tonight to be the night.

A/N: HEY! im so excited to be making this because a) im a huge fan of The Walking Dead, and b) i just need some tent smut in my life. Sorry it's taken me so long to post a new fic but I've been going through another writers block and now I have covid, too. Welp, enjoy xx

Warnings: bruises and scars, masturbation (m), smut, love confession, insemination, switch!Bucky, fingering, handjob, edging, overstim (if you squint)

Clink, clank, clink

The string-connected aluminum cans rattle together as you pull on the string, fastening it to a tree a considerable distance from another tree, of which the opposite end of the string was fastened. A security system thought of by you, though your partner, Bucky, scavenged the materials. Speaking of, at the moment he was stomping out the fire in the center of your camp, the area you's lived in.

"You need any help?" he asks, his voice hushed just enough that you could hear-- smooth and deep. You shake your head 'no' and finish pulling the last knot tight before following him into the tent. The 8-man tent appears comedically small compared to his large stature as he crouches inside it. You both start to strip yourselves of your clothing, less time worn means less need for washing. It was something you'd both gotten used to over the past 6 months-- you'd both seen each other completely bare numerous times, but only ever when inside the tent or washing up in the lake.

5 months doesn't seem like much time to many, but when you're the only person someone has spoken to in over a year exclusively, it's a big deal. The day you met was a classic western-standoff: two people, 10 feet apart, guns drawn. You'd become very close in that time, the only other voices you'd heard being those of the people taking through emergency radio broadcasts in the middle of the night and those on the old blues discs you'd found.

You pull your top over your head and toss it aside, braless beneath, and, through the corner of his eye, Bucky notices the fresh bruises arranged along your back and sides. The stopping of his movement catches your attention and you turn around to see him staring at the discolored flesh, eyes regretful and mouth slightly agape. You look down, feeling bad for not telling him sooner before turning back and continuing to strip.

“I’m alright,” you assure him. You pull your socks off after ridding yourself of your jeans and stuff everything into a corner of the tent, awaiting its return to your body in the morning. You lurch forward and yelp as a searing pain engulfs your mid-back, the pain radiating throughout your ribcage. You turn around again to see Bucky sitting with his legs still crossed and clothed, and his flesh hand extended— his eyes wide with fear and curiosity.

“Don’t sound alright to me,” he remarks, inching closer to you and inspecting your injuries. He was a compassionate man, sure, but you usually attended to yourselves in situations like these. He knew you could do it yourself. You knew that he knew.

“Buck, I’m fine, honestly,” you say, not wanting him to worry. He ignores you as he wraps his large hands around your sides, squeezing gently and paying close attention to the hitches in your breathing and the whines escaping your throat as his hands explore your flesh. He stops at one particular point that has you crying out and feels around the tender muscle with his metal hand, watching to not get too close to your hips as you sit before him, completely nude.

It’s amazing how the end of the world can make people so trusting.

He pulls his hand away from your back and swivels around before pulling his dark washed jeans off of himself, his boxers following soon after. You turn and roll onto your side, laying down on the mass of blankets, sheets, comforters, and pillowcases covering the floor of the tent as a cushion, moaning as your abused torso meets the padded ground. Laying and waiting for him to dial off the lantern, you watch Bucky through tired eyes as he hides his front from you. Rude.

Every other night he’s had no problem chilling in his birthday suit with you, but now he was acting off. Self-conscious, almost.

Your brows furrow and you frown as he lays facing away from you after leaving on the lamp, not even bothering a “nite”. You figure he’s probably just upset that you never told him what happened. About your fall…

...Down 14 feet of rocks and boulders on the water’s edge. Hey, no big deal, right?

You brush it off, planning to speak with him in the morning over pine tea before rolling onto your back and getting comfortable. With a few stray blankets harnessing your body to the ground, you drift off.

You’re running. You’re running barefoot. Through thick woods you’re running and Bucky’s just a few feet ahead of you. But what’re you running from? You stop. You stop running yet Bucky continues. He doesn’t look back. He’s out of sight, yet you can still hear him clear as day. He’s breathing hard. His feet are colliding with the muddy ground, making sloppy sounds. You’re not aware of yourself anymore. Now he’s gone but you can still hear him. You can still hear-

You wake up in an instant, overheating. You sit there for a moment and just wait to test if you can fall back asleep without removing layers from yourself. Though something catches your attention that you can’t ignore. Bucky is still breathing heavily. There’s still that muddy sound.

You peel open your eyes slightly to see what’s happening, or if you’re still dreaming, and watch as Bucky’s torso jitters and his left shoulder jumps back and forth with a rhythm. You assume he’s having a nightmare, hence the heavy breathing and the sounds, which were more than likely him mouthing and whispering to himself.

You shuffle over toward him silently and place a gentle hand on his shoulder to calm him a bit, but the second your hand meets his scarred flesh, his head snaps back toward you with wide eyes and he fumbles in a hurry to cover himself up before you can register what’s happening. He sits up, facing forward and covered up to his navel in sheets— there’s a clear imprint of his dick pressing a tent into the sheet over his hips that you notice but pay no mind to. You jump back and watch him worriedly before you realize.

He was masturbating.

“Oh my fucking god. Oh my fucking god.” you mumble as you retract your hands as far back as you can from him. Not that you didn’t want to touch him, you did, but you didn’t want to make him any more uncomfortable than he was already. The tent in the sheet wasn’t just his dick— it was his hard dick. His hard, pulsing dick.

It went really silent. Got really awkward. There you two were sat, you facing his back, both completely nude, and a shit load of sexual-awkward tension filling the air, strangling you.

“I’m sorry,” he says, breaking the silence. You think for a moment before leaning forward a bit and placing your hand softly on his shoulder.

“Don’t be, Bucky. We’re stuck in this damn tent together until we can get our hands on something better. You're only human…” you comfort him with your words, or at least try to. His body tenses and he takes a deep breath in before blurting out his next sentence.

“I did it thinking about you,” he spits quickly, leaving a dead stillness both inside and outside of the tent. Were the crickets making noise before? ‘Cause they aren’t now. Was it windy? Raining, maybe? ‘Cause it’s dead silent out now.

A shiver runs up your spine at his admission. Ashamed as you were of it, you’d done the same thing at least four times. Can’t sleep? Lay back, memorize his frame, and let your fingers do the work. Embarrassment and arousal infuse your blood and flush your cheeks. You know that you can’t leave him there hard and half-cocked for the rest of the night, so you do what you know you have to… and want to.

You pounce. You smoothly climb over his hips and press your lips to his, holding the back of his head and cradling it as you kiss him gently. Hesitantly, he kisses back, and the kiss quickly progresses from gentle to passionate; tongues swiping and lips sucking. From the outside, it would look forced, but both of you knew that you wanted it. After all, you were the only people each other had seen in months, maybe even a year.

His hands slowly work their way up your bare thighs to your back, pulling you closer to him and being mindful of your injuries. You bring your hands around from the back of his head to his shoulders and ease yourselves down onto the ground with you still straddling him. You part your lips and look down at the few inches of space between your wetting folds and his prominent bulge hidden under the sheet.

“You sure you want this?” you ask, bringing your eyes up to his.

“Yes,” he whispers, the cerulean blue rings of his eyes glimmering in the warm light.

He reaches his head up to you and reattaches your lips, moving his hands back down your spine toward your thighs again. You expect his hands to run down your legs again but instead are met with one hand parting your lips and the other running two fingers just over your entrance. You whimper into his mouth at the contact and he smiles into the kiss, drawing circles with his fingertips. You buck your hips down onto his hand and surprise the both of you as his fingers slip into you with zero resistance.

“Jesus Christ, you’re wet,” he whispers with a small chuckle. Quiet clicks and squelches sound around the small tent as he begins slowly dragging his fingers in and out of you. You hum in response and nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent as you relish the feeling of his body heat radiating from below you. He places gentle kisses to the side of your head and whispers sweet nothings into your ear as you rock your hips against his hand.

He groans at the friction so nearby to his neglected cock, a dime-sized patch of his precum soaking through the sheet as he ruts his hips upward seeking any kind of contact. You raise yourself up on your knees, still straddling him, and reach under the thin sheet. Your warm hand grips his aching cock and begins to massage it, focusing on his tip with the palm of your hand. He groans as he drops his head backward onto the ground, thrusting into your hand. His fingers speed up in you as he grows closer to his climax, anticipation fueling your bodies.

“Fuck, Bucky…” you mewl out as you drop yourself onto his hand, your entire body shaking as you rock your hips violently against him, pushing his fist into the tight muscles of his abdomen and tightening your hand around his shaft as you cum.

“Oh, fuck,” he moans. His breathing becomes ragged and laboured as he squeezes his eyes shut and digs his metal fingertips into your thigh, fucking your closed fist as he finishes, too. His cum sticks to the underside of the sheet and you peel it back, tossing it downward before lowering yourself to be straddling his hips. A raging fire was now burning within you, finally lit by your first orgasm. It had taken you up until your first Bucky-induced orgasm to realize how much you’d wanted him all this time. How much you wanted to be close to him in negative space, him in you, pulsing against your red flesh as you make love.

He inhales sharply as you wrap your hand back around his softening dick, pumping him as you run his tip between your lips, prepping the both of you. Judging by his expression, he was somewhat surprised that you wanted more, but he didn’t dispute as he had all that much more to give to you. You look down at him before inserting him into you, just to ensure his permission, and after he nods at you with wide eyes you slide down onto him. You crane your neck to the side at the stretch, mouth agape as he groans from beneath you, the skin of his chin rolling as he lifts his head to watch your joining.

Once you bottom him out, you readjust your position, placing both hands on his chest and leaning a bit forward. The warmth of your bodies provides a comforting contrast to the gentle bite of the night chill, making you wish you’d gotten this close sooner. His hands find your waist as he grips your flesh, guiding you as you begin to roll your hips to his. You hum and whimper on top of him, moving slowly and listening to his guttural groans and whines as you tease. You continue the painfully dragged-out motion until he moves a stray lock of hair from your face and cups your jaw.

“Can I flip us?” he whispers, eyes trailing all across your body. You bite your lip and nod vigorously before being held close and rolled over. You knew how strong he was based on how big of a help he was in your little home of a camp but being subject to it was a whole new kind of attractive. Hovering above you, he realigns himself with your entrance and pushes in slowly, resting on his forearms by your head. Both of your bodies shift upward with each deep thrust of his, pushing as far into you as he possibly can each time. He grabs the side of your face and kisses you passionately, moaning into your mouth. You swallow his sounds, gently nibbling on his bottom lip as he pushes pleasure into you like it’s the only thing he’s ever known. Growing close, you paw at his biceps before finding his back with your nails, leaving red-raw marks in their wake.

“Bucky, Bucky…” you whisper. He groans and hips your neck softly at the chanting of his name. “I’m so close,” you sob quietly. After a few more strokes, you’re just about to cum, but not before being flipped onto your stomach with Bucky now spreading your thighs with his own, poking your ass cheek with his dick. You whine out in complaint before being muffled by his hand over your mouth as he slams back into you, silencing your cry out in bliss. His pace in the new position is primal, feral, almost. Your last orgasm having been stolen away from you, you’re left sensitive with an orgasm built up in you fighting to be let out. He pounds into you from above, only pausing to pull your hips up so you’re face down, ass up for him.

His pace rocks your body with each thrust, throwing you forward into the sheets. He makes sure every sound he makes is audible for you, as they grow louder with each thrust into your tight pussy. He snakes a hand from your hip to your clit, swiping back and forth aggressively as he pushes closer to his orgasm. The friction plus the edged orgasm denied from you earlier His pace rocks your body with each thrust, throwing you forward into the sheets. He makes sure every sound he makes is audible for you, as they grow louder with each thrust into your tight pussy. He snakes a hand from your hip to your clit, swiping back and forth aggressively as he pushes closer to his orgasm. The friction plus the edged orgasm denied from you earlier is too much for you to handle, making you snap. You wail into the sheets below as you spasm under him, hands rested out over your head like you're bowing down. The sight and the feel of you clenching and releasing around his cock gives him a major power surge, making him reach forward and grab a fistful of your hair, pulling on it as you whimper out from the overstimulation. It only takes him a few more thrusts and a few more mewls from you to lose his shit and bury himself in you, digging his fingertips into your hips and chanting “I love you”s as his tip flows hot cum into you, leaking out around him as he pulls out.

He drops onto his back beside you and you roll over into his side, catching your breath and fixing your disheveled hair as you cling to him like a koala. He puts an arm around you, caressing the skin of your back with one hand while the other grips your thigh thrown over him. It’s a peaceful, intimate moment you share, relishing in each other’s body heat and nuzzling each other’s natural scents as you cuddle. Having been through so much, so much loss, so much worry, so much grief, you can’t help but wonder ‘is this happiness?’. Laying in the low lantern light, nude and close with someone you care a lot about— is this happiness? Listening to his breathing, feeling his heart slowing from the race within his rib cage, is this... happiness?

“I meant it,” he says quietly, pulling you out of your thoughts. He moves his hand from your thigh to your face and traces the outline of your jaw with his index finger, running his thumb over your lips as he stares down into your eyes— his deep blue ones almost entirely overtaken by dilated pupils. Your eyes meet his and you can’t seem to pull your gaze away, feeling like you’re locked in his mind.

“I love you, too,” you respond, pushing your face into the crook of his neck and inhaling the smell of his musk— campfire and body odour, though they’re both mostly muted scents due to the familiarity. You hum a quiet tune, one you’re both familiar with from your discs, as you let your eyes close. Soon after, he joins in with you— harmonizing his voice with yours as you start to drift off.

#bucky x reader #sebastian stan #bucky barnes #marvel #bucky barnes x reader #female reader #fanfic #bucky barnes smut #reader insert #wattpad #bucky barnes drabble #bucky angst #bucky drabble #bucky x y/n #survivor!bucky #apocalypse smut #the walking dead

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oasis-for3v3r · 2 years

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Relaxation #

Zakk Wylde x Reader

Prompt- a request for a zakk wylde x reader with all smut and minimal plot.

A/N- Sorry for the unnanounced hiatus, I hope this makes up for it!

Warnings- MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Unprotected Sex, Catholic guilt, kinda slut shaming if you squint. Sin, just pure sin. also bad grammar

Welp, you hate to say it but goddammit you were feeling needy. Again. And its not like you would ever say it out loud anyway.

You were the type of person to be the horniest but never say shit because you thought that would make you a slut. And with your parents holding extremely traditional values, its not hard to pinpoint where you got your guilt from. You know what they say, Catholic School is the best place to send your child to if you don’t want them to become Catholic.

Which is part of the reason why you hadn’t had sex with your boyfriend Zakk yet. Trust and believe you wanted to. But its the way you viewed sex, for the most part you found it hot. But on the other you were taught that sex was like a procedure only used for making children, its not something the women enjoyed and if you did, you were dirty and a whore for liking something so sacred to be used for your own pleasure.

But you couldn’t help it your boyfriend was so damn fine and him playing his guitar during shows made you so damn horny. You were a grown ass woman with needs, and you wanted to relieve it so bad.

But this damn pillow wasn’t cutting it for you. You tried not to be too loud but your pussy felt so.. achy? Not in a bad way but in “if you even so much as breathe on it I will cum.” type of achy. So much that the pillow case was practically soaked by the time you were through humping it.

And you haven’t even cum yet.

You were figuring out what to do next to gain some relief when Zakk came through the door.

Shame ran through your veins, reddening your cheeks and the tips of your ears.

You tried to do a million things at once, covering yourself, hiding the stained pillow, trying to explain the situation to Zakk. Starting and stopping your own unfinished sentences.

“I didn’t know you were coming home so soon..”

“Im so sorry about the mess..”

“ Im really sorry Ill go and cover myself up.”

You say the last part while going to your shared bathroom, but he caught your arm gently.

“Honey, calm down, you looked pretty hot actually” He said with.a glint in his eyes.

“ Thank you” you tried everything to avoid looking into his eyes because if you did you would melt instantly .

“ You wanna tell me what you were thinking about darling?” His eyes were darker and more intense his hands around your hips. Making you feel safe yet wanted at the same time.

“ I was thinking about your hips pushing into me, making me feel so full, while you hold me close and whisper dirty things into my ear.” You didn’t know what possesed you to say that but with him, every single worry and guilt had evaporated leaving you with one primal emotion. Fuckin’ Horny.

When you spoke those words, it was like you opened pandora’s box of pleasures. And Zakk was more than happy to give to you.

He sat on the edge of the bed and patted his lap.

“Come sit right here on my lap while I finger fuck you, honey” You did as you were told, still feeling a bit sensitive after humping the pillow. And the rough demin of his jeans rubbing against your bare clit felt so good.

He took his middle finger and swirled it around your entrance gathering your wetness. His other arm slid across your waist, keeping you from moving. He gave you a passionate kiss, before he rubbed your clit in gentle circles, ELEPHANT

The rhythm he had fingering you felt heavenly with 2 fingers in your wet tight hole sliding in and out, with the heel of his hand continuously smacking against your clit. You were holding on to his arm that was stretched over you, muscles flexing underneath your grip.

“That feels good huh honey? Feels so nice when I finger fuck your little hole like this?” He growled into your ear.

You couldn’t answer with anything except for moans and whimpers. You couldn’t focus on anything except the erotic pleasure that Zakk was giving you.

You were just on the brink of cumming when he pulled his fingers out, leaving you clenching around air. You whined while he undressed, noticing a wet spot you left on his jeans.

“Lay down right here, no its ok honey I know you left a wet spot, don’t worry we’ll leave a bigger one, just relax.” he comforted while putting your ankles around his neck pulling your hips to the edge of the bed so he can hit your sweet spot even deeper.

There were no words to describe the feeling as he pounded in you, it felt so dirty yet so good at the same time. Fuck you were feeling so full and satisfied at the same time. in fact you wouldn’t mind being like this forever. Having nothing to worry about except to cum hard and where to cum. The thought of wetting his face made you shiver around him. Your bodies were almost one, when you react he reacted even harder, creating a push and pull wave effect on both of your pleasures.

You were in constant euphoria whenever he thrusted into you. Your eyes damn near rolling back into your head. He then picked you up and began to fuck you standing up. His thrusts became sloppier and sloppier to the point that you creaming over his cock, shaking in his arms. Within a few more thrusts he became stiff and empited himself inside of you.

You both came down from your high, with him still holding you in his arms. He looked at you with a smirk on his face. “ See what happens when you just relax?’”

#zakk wylde #zakk wylde x reader #smut #hardcore smut #80s #80s icons #punk #classic rock #fanfiction #new fanfic #gutair #My writing #My fic #x reader #stranger things

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starsfic · 2 years

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Well, shit.

Gregory had promised Vanessa he wasn’t going to move from her workspace while she went to answer a call. He had promised. It was the only thing she asked him to do. He had promised her and Freddy he would behave today at Vanessa’s temporary job in Fazbear Robotics Lab. Except he had decided to wander off and was now lost.

Who worked on a Saturday anyway?

A glimpse of blonde hair out of the corner of his eye made him whirl around. Vanessa was strolling past, not even noticing him. Relief shot through him. Even if their living situation was a work in process, she was still his guardian. And he couldn’t call Freddy right now.

“Vanessa!”

Gregory shot off after her. It didn’t seem like she heard him, given the purple headphones over her ears. Weird. He didn’t remember seeing those.

“Vanessa!”

She looked around, finally hearing someone call.

“Van- Oof!” Gregory hadn’t stopped in time, running right into her. “Sorry,” he said (he had promised Freddy he would try). “I didn’t mean to wander off. I just saw-”

A strange look flickered over her face. “Uh, sorry, little boy. I don’t think I’m who you’re looking for.”

Gregory blinked and did a double take. “Oh.” While the woman was blonde and had green eyes, the dark roots suggested the blonde was dye. She was also wearing a completely different outfit than the simple white shirt and jeans Vanessa had been wearing. “Sorry, I thought...”

“Although my name is Vanessa.” She crouched down so they were eye to eye, a smile forming. “Were you looking for someone?”

He nodded. Something was ringing bells in his mind about the woman. He wasn’t sure why, but something about her seemed off. “My guardian. Vanessa A...A...” Damn, how did you pronounce it?

“Auclair?” He nodded. The smile grew wider. “I know where she is.” She held her hand out. “I can take you to her.”

...something was off.

“No, thanks.” Gregory stepped back. “If you just point me in the right direction, I can find my own way.” He stepped around her as she stood, the smile drifting off her face as she pointed down the hall. Gulping, Gregory turned his back to her. “Uh, thank-”

“Gregory?”

They turned.

Vanessa was coming up, brows furrowed together, with a frown on her face. “Vanessa!” He couldn’t help the relief in his voice as he shot past the other Vanessa. “Sorry, I saw something and I wandered off.”

“It’s okay,” Vanessa said. She didn’t sound mad, more relieved than anything. “What was it? I can show you later.”

“Hell of a kid you got there, Nessa.” The other Vanessa said, her smile returning. It was more mocking then the soft one she had given him. “I’m glad I found him before anything could happen.”

Vanessa nodded. “Thank you.” She sounded cold. “But, why are you out here, Vanessa?”

“Headphones.” Other Vanessa said, pulling on the cord. “Need my music when I’m working, you know?” Vanessa nodded, mouth tight. The other woman nodded back before clapping her hands together. “Welp, I got work to do. Hope you enjoy your stay here.”

“I will. C’mon, Gregory.” Gregory followed as Vanessa set off down the hallway. He glanced back once to see her wave. He winced and turned his back.

Neither of them noticed Other Vanessa’s eyes flash purple.

#FNAF #Five Nights at Freddy's #FNAF Security Breach #FNAF Security Breach spoilers #FNAF Gregory #Gregory #Vanny #FNAF Vanny #Vanessa #FNAF Vanessa #my writing

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emeraldiis · 3 years

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Tied Hands Can’t Kill

A/N: welp, it’s finally here! Part two of Enough Trust for Us Both, enjoy!!

AO3 Link

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Summary: Bucky watches you, hungry eyes glued to your glistening fingers when you pull them out. His tongue comes out to drag across his lips, and you know what he wants.

Bucky’s afraid of hurting you, so you cuff him during sex. That’s pretty much the summary

Tonight’s date night. You have lots of fun things prepared: a nice dinner, a movie, several bottles of fine wine, and a shiny pair of vibranium handcuffs. The cuffs are out of sight, resting in your nightstand, but you still feel like they’re mocking you as you stir the spaghetti on the stove. Bucky’s out, meeting with Stark about some complicated feud with another country that you didn’t understand, and you’re anxiously awaiting his return. The noodles probably didn’t need to be stirred that much, but you need to keep busy. You have to keep your mind off of tonight if you want to make it through dinner.

You’re just setting out the plates as Bucky walks in. You’re greeted with a bear hug that nearly topples you over, and you manage to squeak out a warning before Bucky sends the tableware crashing to the ground.

Bucky steps back and holds you at arm's length, eyes softening as he gazes lovingly at you. “Sorry, doll. I missed you.”

You melt. A warm smile trickles across your face and you sigh happily. “I missed you, too. You hungry? I made pasta.”

As he inhales deeply, taking in the rich scent of your cooking, Bucky nearly starts drooling. “I’m starving,” he moans, making a beeline for the pot on the stove. You watch him go, rolling your eyes. Looks like you didn’t need to worry about filling his plate. With a shrug, you serve yourself, too.

Dinner is as good as you’d hoped it’d be. Bucky barely has time to breathe with how quickly he shovels food down his throat, mumbling compliments through a full mouth. You don’t mind his iffy manners; if he likes your cooking that much, then you’d let eat however he wanted. Even if that meant feeling like you were sitting across from a dog with a steak.

The wine disappears just as quickly as the food. You limit yourself to a few glasses, wanting a clear head for the night’s events, but Bucky does no such thing. Having an enhanced tolerance was both a blessing and a curse, you thought to yourself. On one hand, he could have as many glasses he wanted without worrying about getting a bit too tipsy, but on the other...you’ve seen him rack up one hell of a tab at a bar.

Finally sated, Bucky leans back in his chair and shoots you a grin. “Doll, I think I missed your cookin’ more than I missed you,” he teases.

A giggle bubbles up from your stomach. “I guess I’ll have to start ordering take out. Maybe it’ll make you appreciate me a bit more.”

“No,” Bucky whines, lips falling into a pout. “I take it back, I’m sure you’re better tasting than anything you can whip up in the kitchen.”

There it is again, that flirty side that you rarely get to witness. You try to encourage him, wanting more of that wicked mouth. “How about you see for yourself?” You pause, gauging Bucky’s reaction. When he holds your stare instead of looking away, you know you’re okay to keep going. “I, I have the cuffs.” Your face burns when Bucky’s eyes widen, like he hadn’t been expecting you to follow through on your promise. “You know, for later. If you want.” Your voice has lowered into something only a bit louder than a whisper, and you can feel yourself losing your nerve.

“Can we,” Bucky starts, pausing to swallow thickly. “Can we skip the movie?”

Your heart jumps, then picks back up its pounding rhythm. You can hear the blood rushing in your ears, can feel it drain all the way down to your stomach, and then between your legs. “Yeah, yeah we can do that.” Your voice sounds foreign, strange, through your ringing ears. You take another sip of wine, hoping to ease the anxiety. Nervousness swirls with excitement through your stomach. This is what you want, what you’ve been waiting for all these months, but now that it’s here? The butterflies feel like they have knives.

When he realizes that you’re frozen in place, Bucky stands, and makes it way over to you. You can tell that he’s half-hard in his black jeans, and your mouth starts to water. You swallow hard before rising from your chair and trying to step past Bucky, towards the hallway. He places a big hand on your shoulder, and you freeze again.

“Hey,” Bucky murmurs. He leans down to press his lips to the top of your head, and his breath tickles when it blows through your hair. “Breathe, baby. We don’t have to do-”

“No!” You say loudly, startling Bucky. Seeing his brow furrowed in worry, you force yourself to take a deep breath and collect yourself before continuing. “Sorry, I just...I don’t want to fuck this up. I want it to be good for both of us, so bad, and I’m scared you won’t enjoy it.”

With a stern look and a purse of his lips, Bucky gently grabs each of your arms and brings them around his neck. “Stop that,” he says, and your knees go to jelly when it comes out more as a command than a request. “Baby doll, whatever you end up doing, I promise you that I will enjoy it. I think you’re forgetting that I’ve dreamin’ about this, too.”

You look up at him with wide eyes. “And you’ll tell me if I do something you don’t like?”

Bucky’s metal fingers come up to brush a stray piece of hair out of your face, and you close your eyes when the soothing cold of the metal touches your cheek. “I promise.”

You don’t make it past the doorway to the bedroom before Bucky has you up against the wall, kissing the life out of you. He’s still holding back, you notice, but this is progress. His metal arm is stuffed in his back pocket, keeping it away from you, but he’s using the other to support himself on the wall beside your head, boxing you in. You moan into his mouth, and Bucky pulls back instinctively. His pupils are blown wide and he’s panting, lips parted. “I think,” he whispers. “I think we need those handcuffs now.”

You’re quick to act, ducking past him to open your nightstand drawer and snatching them from their hiding place. The metal is so cold that it almost feels sharp, and you unconsciously hold the cuffs away from your body like they’re a dangerous animal. Something glints in Bucky’s eyes when he sees the handcuffs. He chews on his bottom lips, still standing near the entrance of the room. Deciding that he needs some...encouragement, you make a show of crawling onto the bed, making sure your skirt comes up just enough to reveal your black panties.

A growl sounds from behind you, and the bed dips as Bucky clambers on. He wastes no time in pushing past you, lying down and sliding to the headboard, putting his arms above his head obediently. “Someone’s eager, huh?” You laugh, scooting to the side of the bed to give Bucky more room.

Bucky narrows his eyes. “Don’t play dumb. You’re over here shaking that cute little ass in my face, how’s a man expected to resist that?” He wiggles his arms impatiently. “C’mon, sweet thing.” Now it’s you who needs encouragement. Bucky catches the uncertainty on your face and drops his arms to tug at the hem of his tight navy shirt. With a wink, he lifts the fabric up above his head, giving you an eyeful of those huge biceps and tight abs. The shirt gets tossed somewhere to the side, neither of you caring to notice where it lands.

A breath catches in your throat, and you shoot an apprehensive look to the cuffs dangling from your hand. Moving quickly before you lose your nerve, you slide over to Bucky and straddle his hips, then lean up to hook the handcuffs around his wrists. All the while, you keep a close eye on Bucky’s expression, watching for any sign of discomfort. You know that he probably has some pretty traumatic memories associated with being restrained; triggering those is the last thing you want to do.

To your relief, Bucky’s face stays open and trusting. He watches you with a rapt look, eyes lidded in arousal as you click the cuffs around the wooden headboard. “Don’t break my bed,” you with as stern of a voice as you can muster. Bucky bites his lip against what you just know is going to be some teasing remark. You stick your tongue out at him and sit back on your haunches, admiring your handiwork.

Bucky looks absolutely gorgeous. His arms are stretched up above him, and in his human arm the muscles ripple and bulge as he shifts. The look on his face is what kills you, though. He looks wrecked, lips bitten red and face flushed with a pretty shade of pink. You lean down to kiss him gently, grinning to yourself when he tries and fails to arch up and deepen the kiss. “Oh, baby. We haven’t even started and you’re already…” you trail off with a breathy sigh of adoration.

“Shut up,” Bucky shoots back, turning his head to the side as much as he can to avoid your gaze. “I-it’s been a while since I’ve, y’know.”

You immediately feel bad for teasing him. Wanting to kiss the frown off of Bucky’s lips, you place your fingers on the side of his jaw to turn his face back towards you. When he shivers, you trail a fingertip down his face, scratching a bit at the dark stubble there. Bucky trembles again, and you immediately press your mouth to his. Something in that kiss seems to set him off, because he wastes no time straining against his bonds and licking his way past your lips.

You moan around his tongue as it strokes yours. Now this is a proper kiss, nothing like those gentle pecks you had gotten so used to. Fireworks explode behind your eyelids when they fall shut, and everything in you wants to uncuff Bucky, to feel those strong hands grip your hips and pull you onto his cock. Your pussy clenches around nothing at the thought as your patience dissipates.

Reluctantly breaking away from the kiss, you slide down Bucky’s body until you reach the hem of his jeans. Your eyes flick back up to Bucky’s to silently ask for permission. He nods and blushes. Shaking fingers reach for the button, and although it takes you a few tries, you eventually manage to undo it. The sound of Bucky’s zipper being pulled down is deafening in the quiet room. Bucky sighs in relief as you relieve the pressure on his erection, and you nearly groan out loud at seeing the bulge in his dark red briefs. A loud clink startles you out of your daze, and you realize that Bucky’s straining against the cuffs, looking at you with desperation. “Please, doll. I’m done waiting.”

You can’t help but take pity on your squirming boyfriend. With a coy grin, you slide Bucky’s briefs down his legs and lower your head until his leaking cock is nearly brushing your lips. Bucky whines at you, and you flick your tongue out to catch the drop of precum beading at the tip. The reaction you get is explosive. Bucky cries out and arches up towards your mouth, metal arm whirring loudly as he struggles against his bonds. You place a hand on his hip to soothe him, but also as a warning to settle down before he works himself up too much.

Wide eyes meet yours, and then they close while Bucky takes deep breaths. He forces himself to relax against the pillows, jaw clenched. “Sorry,” he half-whispers. His voice sounds wrecked already. “‘M bein’ good. Can you...?”

It’s impossible to resist; Bucky’s so submissive, so willing to please you, and it’s driving you crazy. Taking a breath, you dive down to suck him into your mouth, fighting back a smile when his hips jerk under your hand. Fortunately, Bucky seems to have gotten a handle on himself. Muscles tense, he manages to keep from choking you as you let your jaw adjust to the stretch.

You breathe through your nose, sinking lower until you’re almost nestled against his stomach, then pull back, dragging your tongue along the bottom ridge. That earns you a soft curse, so you repeat the motion, soon getting into a steady rhythm that has Bucky groaning and pleading for more. Just once, you overestimate your abilities and have to fight back a gag, but that only seems to arouse Bucky further. You begin to swirl your tongue around the head on the upstrokes, and it isn’t long before Bucky’s pulsing in your mouth, ready to spend down your throat. “S-stop, fuck, stop,” Bucky whimpers. “Don’t wanna cum yet.” Despite his protests, Bucky’s hips twitch again and again in little aborted thrusts.

As much as you want Bucky’s cum dripping down your throat, you back off, wiping at your mouth with the back of your hand. “You ready?” You ask, already unzipping your skirt and pulling it off along with your dripping panties. You’re more than ready, so wet that you doubt you’ll need any preparation. Still, you lean back and dip two fingers into yourself just to check.

Bucky watches you, hungry eyes glued to your glistening fingers when you pull them out. His tongue comes out to drag across his lips, and you know what he wants. Feeling a bit shy, but wanting to drive Bucky even wilder than you already have, you slowly reach out your hand until your fingers are hovering in front of Bucky’s face; an invitation. One that he graciously accepts, eagerly taking your fingers into his mouth. Bucky’s eyes nearly roll back as he tastes you, soft tongue lapping at your skin like it’s coated in a priceless wine.

“Buck,” you moan softly. “Lemme ride you, I wanna cum on your cock.” Your eager hands are frantic, undoing the stubborn buttons of your blouse as fast as you can manage. Bucky instinctively moves to help you, growling when the cuffs halt his movement. You feel dizzy with power, head swimming as you look down at Bucky. You could do anything to him, and for a moment you’re overwhelmed by the realization that he would let you. All you want to do is make him feel good.

You slide the blouse off of your shoulders--Bucky’s eyes nearly bug out of his head when he sees that you’re braless--and bring your trembling fingers to caress the scruff at Bucky’s jaw. He leans into your touch, and you’re not sure which one of you is shaking worse. “Can I make you feel good now, baby?” You ask, voice a raspy drawl that sounds foreign to your ears. Bucky barely has the chance to nod before you start to kiss up his neck. Whatever response he had planned dies on the tip of his tongue as you drag yours across his skin.

Oh-so carefully, you reach under you to grasp Bucky’s throbbing cock and guide it to your soaked entrance. The second the head makes contact with your pussy, Bucky gasps wildly and jerks his hips up. He slips from your grasp as he manages to slip into your sex with little resistance. Your core clenches around the stretch and you moan raggedly. Fuck, he feels amazing. Thick and long and hitting every single spot that makes your toes curl.

You collapse onto Bucky’s chest with a whimper, trying your hardest to adjust to his size. Bucky nuzzles into your hair and murmurs words of encouragement, choked out praises. When your body stops feeling like it’s about to burst into flames, you brace your hands on either side of Bucky’s head and raise yourself up off of his hips. When you slide back down, both of you groan. You lift up again, and before you can make another move, Bucky shakes his head.

“Stay right there, doll. Keep those hips up for me,” he growls, and you don’t dare disobey. “I’m gonna wreck you, honey.” You’ve completely lost the upper hand; what dominance you may have had vanished the instant Bucky gave you an order.

You nearly bite through your lip when Bucky starts pistoning into you from below, each thrust knocking the wind out of you. He doesn’t start out slow, years of celibacy making him feral and desperate. You want to kiss him, grab his hair, something, but you’re frozen in place, helpless. Bucky snaps his hips into your ass with inhuman speed, and the obscene smacks of skin against skin sound like thunderclaps. It’s nothing compared to the sounds that fall from Bucky’s lips, though.

“Fuck, baby. Love how that p-pussy’s gripping me so tight.” Growls and groans interrupt his filthy praise, but it only makes him sound sexier. Gasps tear from your throat with every breath, and your eyes roll back. “Yeah, you fucking love it, don’t you? Look at you, taking my cock so good. You’re mine. ”

The more Bucky talks, the closer you creep to the edge. You can feel it in your stomach, coiling tight and hot. “Bucky, I’m, I’m gonna-”

“Oh, god. Cum on me, baby doll. I, ah, I wanna feel it.” Bucky’s hair is sweat slicked, sticking to his face. His brows are knitted tight together, betraying his confidence. You feel his hips stuttering, then look down at those cloudy eyes and know he’s close, too. The cuffs rattle and the headboard creaks, and that’s what does you in. Knowing that Bucky is bound, and he is still the one absolutely ruining you for anyone else.

A cry of “Bucky!” escapes your mouth as your head snaps back. Your entire body goes rigid as you climax, pleasure rippling across your nerves like tiny atom bombs. Bucky keens as he feels you clamp around him, and fights to keep his hips moving to work you through your orgasm. It’s too much, though, and he sobs your name as he spills inside of you, going slack against the cuffs.

Your shaking thighs finally give out, and you sag against Bucky. As both of you attempt to catch your breath, euphoria settles over you like a cool blanket. It was about fucking time. With how Bucky just fucked you within an inch of your life, you decide that it was worth the wait. Still, you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t tease Bucky just a bit. “I think if that headboard can survive being assaulted like that, I’ll be just fine,” you say, voice still unsteady.

Bucky snorts. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense.” He wiggles his arms. “Can you get me out of these, though? I wanna hold my doll after making love to her.”

Your cheeks flush, but you roll off of Bucky to retrieve the key from your nightstand. With some fiddling, you unlock the handcuffs and set Bucky free. He stretches, loosening his stiff muscles, then pulls you back to his solid chest, stroking your tangled hair. “Thank you,” he whispers so softly that you aren’t sure if he actually said anything.

“Anything for you,” you reply just as quietly. You shift a bit to get more comfortable, and hear a crack. “Please tell me that wasn’t the headboard.”

Bucky glances up, then pats your head reassuringly. “It wasn’t the headboard.”

“Then what was it?”

“It was definitely the headboard.”

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #marvel #mcu #tfatws #bucky imagine #fluff and smut

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seraphdreams · 3 years

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i wanna let eren to lift up my skirt while on a date bc he thought it was a little too short. him fingering me under the table. and calling me slut for wearing it. man, its a date, ofc ill be a slut for u and only u. (welp, not really. im a jean and eren slut so he better not calle me loyal or anything 😀🙄)

if it’s one thing eren can’t stand, it’s those “short ass skirts” that you seem to prance around in all the time. so it shouldn’t be a surprise when a tight crop-top and tiny miniskirt is your outfit of choice to the date he decides to take you on. it infuriates him but this time he wants to keep quiet because if you’re going to act like a slut, he’ll treat you like one. his fingers dance across your thighs as he leans in real close to your ear, “you’re real bold for going out like this. thought i wouldn’t say anything?” his words cause shivers to course on your skin as he brings his hand further up your thigh, pushing your panties to the side and plunging his fingers in without warning. his pace is brutal and fingers curl precisely where they need to, to have you biting down on your lip, suppressing moans. “no no, baby. since you want to be a slut, go act like one. let all these people here know how much of an attention seeking bitch you are.”

#bitch (lovingly)🥰#i agree anon #eren could be like ‘you’re so loyal’#and me n jean would look at each other from across the room like #‘👀’#mmmmm #mean ren #eren smut #eren x reader smut #eren jaeger smut #eren yeager smut #seraph.replies!#seraph—☁️!

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pascalpanic · 3 years

Text

Spitfire (Javier Peña x f!Reader)

Summary: You’re working on a case file in your apartment with Javier. It’s late. He tells you that you need to relax, and you say no, but then he offers to help you calm down. Warnings: 18+, smut, and it’s graphic smut. cursing too. Javier Peña comes with his own warning. brief mentions of alcohol/alcoholism and of period-typical misogyny. oral sex (f and m receiving), p in v sex. WC: 4.4k A/N: Lol my longest one yet and it’s smut. Well, I’ve been being hounded to post my first smut fic, and who better than with the devil himself, Javi? I saw this masterlist of smut prompts (written by @prolixitae) and had a friend choose two for me, so this one is going to include those, including “you’re being so good for me, I knew you could take it all” and “answer the phone, I dare you.” Welp, here we go!

Rarely did women catch his eye the way you did. He’d admire their asses in their skirts, their breasts and the way they’d cause their buttons to tug at the matching hole on their blouses. Javier was discreet about it, but it was always what he noticed first. With you, it was surprising, and it almost made him give a chuckle when he’d think about it. You were wonderfully built, of course, and he definitely came to adore that, but he always rested his eyes on your face. You had the most wonderful eyes he’d ever seen, he thought, not just from the stunning color but from the way they held every ounce of your personality in them. They always betrayed just what you were feeling: your rage at him, which was often, or your adoration of a child or a dog on the street, your intensity as you scanned the paper on the desk in front of you.

Not only did your eyes astound Javier, but your lips captivated him. You frequently wore different shades of lipstick, and every one looked more delectable than the last to him, who wanted nothing more than to kiss you so hard it came off all over his face, or to have smears of it left on his chest or his hips. They looked incredibly soft, gentle yet strong, and the words that flew out of them, often without a thought, made his own tug up in the corner of his face and expose that dimple. He’d even seen you without makeup a few times, after a particularly long stakeout or a hard night of partying. He found them just as beautiful when they were their natural color, just as attractive and luscious.

The rest of your face made him smile just to think about; it was the very essence of you, of course it brought a grin to his normally stoic face. Your eyebrows and cheekbones perfectly framed those beautiful eyes, your nose quirked adorably when you were either full of rage or joy. Your cheeks moved with your lips or nose, and he wanted to kiss every little line or fold on that beautiful skin of yours, loving the way the tone looked against the equally stunning clothes you wore.

Over time, his appreciation of the rest of your body grew too. The pencil skirts you wore complimented your stunning ass, and the clacking of the heels you paired them with made him weak at the knees when he knew the noise was you walking his way. On stakeouts, in civilian clothes, even the comfortable things you wore were stunning. The curve of your chest beneath a t-shirt, the way your jeans were ripped and exposing the skin of your legs beneath them. The littlest things about you were beautiful to him, but God if they weren’t becoming a distraction.

It’s 01:00, as Javier likes to call it, as the two of you face each other with a look of frustration on each face. You sit in your apartment, the one just above his, him on your couch and you on the floor. “Fuck,” you practically shout and toss the papers down onto the coffee table between you. “How can there be this little evidence of a man who’s fucking everywhere? He runs the entire fucking country like a puppet on a string, and we can’t find a shred of evidence that’s enough to get a goddamn warrant.” Your rage was apparent on your face, causing you to clench your fist around your empty can of soda until it’s a ball of crumpled aluminum. You look up at Javi, practically steaming out of your ears. “How the hell do you do this job?” You ask, breathing heavy from your momentary rage.

I stare at your tits until I’m feeling something else, Peña thinks to himself. He knows he can’t say that, so he takes a second and just sighs, shaking his head. “I leave it at the office,” he chides, leaning forward and tossing a folder onto the table. You had been working on this case alone all night, scanning through paperwork. Hearing you pace around your apartment that sat directly above his, an equally awake Javier had come up to your apartment and knocked, offering his assistance. He and his partner Steve, who lived next door to you with his wife Connie, had been working on another aspect of the Escobar case. You and yours, Rick Harrigan, had been focused on getting something to use as a warrant to invade his home. Unfortunately, your partner was an incompetent alcoholic who was about as much use to you as Escobar himself.

“Easy for you to say,” you shake your head. “I personally call it giving a shit, Javi,” you say sharply. “When you’re not as respected as a man in this field, you have to work twice as hard. And when your partner is too drunk to show up and not get himself killed, twice as hard as that.” You angrily staple two papers together, using the hit to the appliance as a release of your rage.

“Woah there, bonita,” Javier says as he watches, earning an angry glare from you that eases when his eyes meet yours. You sigh and lean back against the wall, running a hand over your hair, loosening from the ponytail it’s tied in. “You need to relax somehow. It’s one in the morning now, did you notice that?” he asks teasingly, chuckling as your eyes fly open. “Guess you didn’t. Get some sleep,” he tells you and crosses his legs, leaning back on the couch.

You sigh again and untie your ponytail, shaking out your hair. “I’m sorry, Javi. I should. I probably woke you too, with my pacing, and I’ll be lucky if I didn’t wake Steve and Connie too.” You groan and look up at him, finding his eyes trained on you. “What?” you ask curiously.

Javier had been staring at how beautifully messy you looked, how your hair was a mess and your makeup was smudged, barely clinging to your face. You looked absolutely wrecked, and it was far more attractive to him than it should’ve been. It almost looked like you had just rolled out of bed with someone, and the look moved his blood somewhere in his body lower than it needed to be. “Nothing,” he says with a gulp and you quirk an eyebrow.

You’d clearly be lying if you didn’t find yourself attracted to the man in front of you. He was an equal to you in the office, but he liked to act like your superior. Naturally, with your temper, you refused to let that happen, leading to some tension between the two of you. The tension, however, wasn’t necessarily the bad kind. If you had less cowardice, you’d ask him out. You know he’d say yes. Javier has a reputation for never turning down a date with a willing woman.

That’s the thing though. It would be labeled a date at first, but it wouldn’t remain that way for long. You could, and admittedly did, picture what would happen: you’d show up in some sexy little dress, Javier wearing a tight shirt, one open button short of professional, and equally tight jeans that highlight his ass. You’d each get in a drink and a half and the next morning you’d wake in your own bed, a delicious ache between your legs and no Javier to be seen.

Clearing that thought from your head, you tie your hair into a ponytail once more and pick up another paper from the desk. “I’m… we’re gonna get murdered if I don’t get this done by Friday morning. God knows Rick won’t be working on it,” you sigh and shake your head, scanning the paper.

“Your head is going to pop if you keep shoving shit in there,” he teases you, nudging you with his leg under the coffee table. “Get some rest.”

You gulp, biting down on your lip. He’s going to keep telling you that, but you can’t do it. It’s too much work, and your fear of failure is greater than your need for sleep. The emotions build inside, mostly frustration: at Javi telling you to rest, at your incompetent partner, at yourself. “I’ve told you this, Javi, I have to keep working. I can sleep later.”

“Do you want me to go beat the shit out of Harrigan for you? I’m not above that,” he offers, his tone clearly teasing.

You chuckle a little and look at him, tears welling in your eyes. “You’re too kind,” you say, voice thick with emotion before you turn back to the paper, “but that wouldn’t change anything except make your life harder and him drink more to cope with the injury.” As you finish talking, your words rise in pitch until the tears fall from your face.

“Hey, hey,” Javier says quickly, getting on his knees on the other side of the coffee table, one hand reaching out to the side of your face. “Don’t cry, cariña,” he says softly, wiping the tears from one eye with his thumb. “It’s gonna be okay. You’re a much better agent than you’re giving yourself credit for, and getting Escobar is like catching a greased pig,” his native Texan adages coming out. You giggle a little at that and he smiles softly. “Let me help you. We’ll go talk to the ambassador about Harrigan together, and I’ll help you search all of this.”

“Javi, you have all of your assigned work, and like you said, it’s one in the morning, you need to sleep-”

“No, you need sleep. I run on cigarettes and rage alone,” he says, earning another soft chuckle from you. “We’ll search this for another hour, see if there’s anything we can use, and if it doesn’t pan out we’ll both go to bed and start this again in the morning.”

You nod softly, leaning into his hand. “You’re much nicer late at night, Peña,” you tease him, causing him to drop the smile, the stoic look returning to his face only accentuated by the growing shadow of stubble on his skin.

Javi chuckles a little. “You’re the only one who’s ever been brave enough to tease me,” he admits, a thick eyebrow slightly raising as he grabs another file from the table and opens it, starting to comb through it. “You’re una volcán,” he chuckles and takes a sip of the glass of whiskey sitting on the table. You look at him questioningly. “A spitfire.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s called being a woman and having had enough,” you tease back at him drily. “Though I suppose I do have plenty of balls to go around. More than any of the men in our department.”

Shaking his head, Javi leaves it there, though he desperately wants to flirt back. You want to leave it there too, but you can’t. Something in you has to get the last word with him, has to get him fired up enough to retort, maybe to do something he shouldn’t to you. “Sometimes I think I’m the only one around here who can’t just go get fucked and forget about the job.”

“Who says I get fucked?” He asks flirtatiously as he takes another sip from his whiskey, and a small smirk falls across your face.

“If it’s about forgetting about something, you need to be the one receiving,” you flirt, daring to get on your knees and lean across the table, trying to get as close to his face as you can to say the words.

Javier reciprocates the movement, taking this as a challenge. “Is that an offer or a request?” He teases back, leaning forward until you can feel his hot breath on your face.

“I’ll let you decide that,” you chuckle quietly and close the distance between the two of you, your lips crashing together. It’s hot and desperate and needy for a moment, nearly moaning into the kiss but stopping yourself. It continues, sloppy and heated and needy. “You’re the one who was in tears earlier,” Javi murmurs between kisses. “I think that means that you’re the one in need of some forgetting.”

“I think that sounds wonderful,” you sigh as his lips move to your jaw. Javi breaks away from you, standing for a moment before situating himself on the couch. He lies back, head on a pillow, unbuttoning his shirt a little. He smirks as he watches you noticing. “Well? You gonna come sit on my face or what?” He asks with a similar smirk, unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way and letting his shirt fall open but rest on his shoulders.

Your mouth nearly drops open. Nothing in you ever questioned that Javier would be an extremely generous lover; even rumors around the office indicated that. No, you just didn’t expect him to be so blunt about it. It makes your blood run cold for a moment. You nod and stand, shimmying the leggings down your legs and kicking them aside. So caught up in your lust, you try to walk forward but your shin finds the coffee table. “Fuck,” you yelp, now kicking the coffee table to shove it out of your path to the man looking at you like he’s starving and there’s a four-course meal between your legs. It drags and screeches across the floor, making a loud noise and you wince. It wobbles and thunks, making more noise than anything should be at what’s now approximately 1:40 A.M..

“Hey, take your anger out here instead,” Javi flirts, scooting further from the back of the couch so you can get properly on him. Once you finally reach his side, he pulls your shirt up frantically as high as he can before you have to do the rest. You pull it off to reveal a generic black bra, but it makes the rising tent in Javier’s jeans grow. “Oh fuck, look at you cariño,” he murmurs, hands gliding up your sides. You pull off your panties and finally straddle him, grinding your hips into his and earning an absolutely sinful groan from him. “No, not now. Get up here,” he murmurs, grabbing your hips and scooting you up his body until you’re seated on his face.

You lean forward, a hand on the arm of the couch for balance, and Javier nearly dies from the sight above him. He licks a tentative stripe up your folds and you moan helplessly, your head falling back. “Javi,” you whisper, and then again when he brings up his fingers to toy at your entrance. “Jesus Christ,” you shudder as his mouth finds your clit, swishing it with his tongue and lapping at it.

A hand finds his hair and you curl your fingers in it tight as he slips his fingers into you. Two digits immediately begin exploring inside of you and you whimper before you can stop yourself. His lips circle your clit as his tongue plays with it, desperately eating you out. It feels amazing, and his name escapes your lips again and again. You cry out his name softly, already sweating and flushed from the pleasure, before you notice it:

Brrrrrring. Brrrrrring.

It’s the phone. “Who the fuck is calling now?” you whine, annoyed at the fact that it’s while Javier’s face is buried in your pussy more so than the fact that it’s in the dead of the night. You ignore it for a few moments more, whimpering at the way Javier’s tongue works against you. He stops and moves you slightly.

“Answer the phone, I dare you,” he murmurs, a fire in his eyes before that smart mouth returns to his task at hand.

“Fuck, I can’t, I’m gonna sound terrible,” you manage out through moans and soft whimpers. Javier makes a noise into you, indicating that you’d better. “Fucker. Be nice to me,” you whisper to him before you answer. “Hello?”

“Sweetie, is everything okay?” you hear Connie’s voice, whispering yet frantic, on the other end.

“Yeah, just fine,” you say, panting from the feeling of Javi beneath you.

“Are you sure? What the hell happened? Steve was going to go check on you but I made sure he didn’t, he wants to make sure you’re okay too,” she starts rambling, clearly cupping her hand over the microphone so the whisper can’t escape it.

What a sight that would be: Steve opening the door to find his partner eating out their coworker. You almost moan at that but hold back, biting on your lip as she speaks and trying to compose yourself for your turn. “Ye-ah,” you say, a moan slipping out as Javi’s teeth brush your clit. “I stubbed my toe and kicked the coffee table,” you admit, and it’s truthful. That earns Javi a little extra tug on the hair, and he seems to take that as motivation to be even worse.

“You’re sure everything is fine over there?” She asks.

“Great, yeah. Go back to bed, Connie,” you say, still panting helplessly.

“If you’re dead in the morning, you can’t blame me,” she teases and hangs up.

“Fuck you, Javi,” you laugh breathlessly when the line clicks dead. “What the fuck?”

“Hopefully you will,” he murmurs into you, and your anger is immediately resolved as the motion of his fingers and tongue matches perfectly.

You cry out at the mixture before you can stop yourself. “Oh fuck, Javi, I’m really close,” you mutter, your hips canting back against the rhythm he sets. He gives a little noise, and you assume that’s him giving it the okay. He keeps going and going in just the right way until it’s too much and not enough at the same time and- “Javier,” you wail helplessly, your orgasm rushing over you.

He works you through it, moaning into you as you shudder and whine atop of him. He pushes you down to straddle his torso when you’re done. He smirks up at you, perfectly content with himself. “Bastard,” you murmur and shake your head before kissing him again, moaning as you can taste yourself on his tongue. It continues like that for a moment before you pull away, the noise from the wetness of the kiss absolutely obscene. “Here’s the plan. We’re gonna go to my bedroom and I’m gonna blow you, then you’re gonna fuck me so hard I can’t remember what the name Escobar means.”

The lust in his eyes is practically turning his irises black. “Yes ma’am,” he smirks and kisses you again, sitting up to do so and resting his hands on the sides of your face. You stand and beckon him, turning and walking towards your bedroom, wearing nothing but the black bra you’d neglected to take off earlier.

As he enters, he undoes his belt, tossing it aside, smirking at the image of you sitting on the edge of your bed. “Take off the bra,” he orders and you get ready to do so, giving him a little show before moving your hands to the clasp. “On one condition.”

“You fucking name it and I’ll do it, cariño.”

“When I wake up in the morning, you’ll be next to me.” He pauses for a moment, halfway through unzipping his pants. He looks up at you, eyes unreadable. “You don’t have to be sweet to me, hell, you can destroy me, but you’re staying the night.”

Javi pauses for a second more before the smirk grows. “Deal.” He stands in front of you and shucks his jeans, leaving him in just his boxers, which you quickly pull down. Your eyes bulge as you finally get the chance to see him; he’s massive. This is going to be… interesting, to say the least. A smirk finds your face and you take him in your hand, stroking him softly. “Where do you want me, bonita?” He asks breathily, his head falling back. You stand and push him to sit on the edge of the bed, where you just were, before falling to your knees and spreading his legs.

As you take him in your hand to slowly stroke him, Javier chuckles softly. “You can’t do this for long. I already feel like I’m gonna cum,” he murmurs, his fingertips tracing the side of your face until they reach your chin. You take him in your mouth, just the tip, and already feel overwhelmed. He’s massive, even just the tip is, filling your mouth. You swirl your tongue before pulling off, pressing kisses to the side of his shaft. He watches in awe, panting and sweating, before a moan falls from his lips. “Oh, fuck,” he mumbles, hand resting on your chin.

You take him in your mouth and start bobbing on him, never quite reaching the base but desperate to do so. He shudders. “Think you can take all of me, baby, huh?” he asks, earning a little whimper from you. “You can do it, I think. That big mouth, always sassing me, now you’re using it for this.”

On the next bob, you take all of him, his tip hitting the back of your throat. It makes you gag slightly, but it’s still deeply erotic, making the feeling in your body warm you up even more. “Fuck, my little spitfire, you’re being so good for me. I knew you could take it all.” You whimper around him and come back up, and he pulls you off of him. “No more or I’ll cum down your throat,” he chuckles. “Where are the condoms?”

You stand hurriedly and head to the nightstand, grabbing a condom from the drawer. “I want you however you’ll take me,” you tell him as you unwrap the condom, getting on your knees again to roll it down over him, tossing the wrapper carelessly to the side.

“Just missionary for now. For our first time,” he smirks, tipping your chin up so he can kiss you. You taste so perfect, he thinks, he could probably shoot his load just from kissing you. But not now, not when he has a plan.

You smirk a little at that. First time. Insinuating there will be more to come. You get up from your knees and climb onto the bed, lying down with your head in the pillows. Javier climbs over you, leaning down and kissing you softly. “How hard do you want me?” he asks.

“You decide. You’re the one who’s in charge, remember?” You ask flirtatiously, reaching down to stroke him slowly as you spread your legs wider.

He chuckles darkly and kisses you again, lining himself up with you. His eyes open quickly and he brings his face back, nonverbally asking. You give him a little smirk, nodding softly, and he kisses you again as he pushes into you. You cry out into his lips. He’s so big, you knew that from going down on him, but it’s a delicious stretch. He waits only a moment before pulling out and thrusting back in again, making you whimper his name.

“Javi,” you whine again and again, wrapping your leg around his waist. From the first thrust, he presses against that perfect little spot inside you, making you wetter and wetter with every thrust. “Oh god, harder, harder, just fucking wreck me,” you whine, spreading your free leg as wide as you can.

He brings one hand down to circle your clit, and it makes you squeal helplessly, the way he rubs it just in time with the harsh thrusts inside of you. It all feels so good, all of it, his lips working his way across your neck and working a mark behind your ear.

His thrusts are hard, both for you and for him, and he starts murmuring dirty little words into your ear, biting down on his lip as he thrusts. “So good for me, cariño,” he murmurs before sucking on your earlobe, quickening his tempo. “So tight around me. Never felt anything like you.”

Unable to formulate any words other than his name, you cry it out again. “Fuck, fuck Javi,” you groan, your hands dragging down his back, leaving marks with your nails.

“Such a dirty mouth,” he smirks for a moment before crying out at the feeling of your nails. “Oh, fuck, honey. You gonna cum for me?” he asks, earning a frantic nod for you. “You wanna hold back? We can cum together,” he murmurs, and that receives another nod. “Oh, good girl,” he murmurs, the noises you make going straight to his dick.

Biting down on your lip, you sigh. “I’m holding back, so you better be damn close,” you moan into his ear, working back against him.

He nods. “Okay, okay, come on baby. Come with me, 3, 2, 1….” he counts down and you clench tight around him as your second orgasm rips through your body, making you pulse and flutter around him. The feeling is so perfect, so intense that Javier can’t wait any longer and finally cums into the condom, thrusting harder and harder into you. “Feels so good when you cum,” he whispers to you, voice ragged and breath hot on your skin.

Javier keeps thrusting until the both of you are done, and he finally pulls out and flops down next to you on your mattress. He sits up, removing the condom and putting it in the trashcan by your bed before lying down again and pulling you to him. You rest your head on his sweaty chest and he wraps an arm around you, kissing your head. “Goddamn, honey,” he chuckles, using all of the air in his lungs to make the sound of content. You laugh too, snuggling in closer. “You’re gonna have to let me cum down that pretty little throat sometime soon,” he teases. “Because that’s all I’m gonna be thinking about until it happens.”

You chuckle at that, shaking your head. Suddenly, you freeze as your conscience comes back to you. “Fuck, those files,” you say, a hint of panic in your voice, trying to bolt upright.

Javi hushes you, pulling you back to his chest. “Forget about those files. You need sleep. You’re gonna sleep right here, and we’ll deal with it in the morning. I’ll make an appointment with the ambassador and he’ll send Harrigan’s ass back on the next flight to D.C.”

His words soothe you easily, but you’re still on edge. “No, Javi, I gotta-”

“Didn’t you make me promise I’d be here in the morning? That won’t happen if you don’t fall asleep,” he teases you and cuddles you into his chest. “Forget it, spitfire,” he tells you, and this time, you listen, letting your eyes fall shut as you listen to Javier’s slowing heartbeat, your ear pressed to his chest.

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #narcos #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #narcos fanfic #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #javi peña #javi peña x reader

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iphoenixrising · 3 years

Text

The Demon You Know

Day 1 Urban Fantasy AU | Magical/Supernatural Creatures | Time Travel

So, something a little off the grid for my first day of DickTim Week 2021. Special thanks to my wonderful babe @vellaphoria for the beta and the incredible peeps on the Capes and Coffee discord (looking at you @themandylion, @strawberryjei and others). Also need to show my undying love for @chippon because babe, we are making it work.

When the sun creeps up over the sky in Gotham, then it’s time to GTFO. Capes in the daytime aren’t the usual for the city, and Red Robin has been playing it too late, staying out far past O’s warning to bring it in for the night. So, really, he’s only got himself to blame.

His penthouse perch has seen more use in the last few months since, welp, Gotham and the fact he likes to get away from the team mentality sometimes, like to return to his roots and run the rooftops like when he was still that Robin. His trips to the Manor had become more frequent since B was back in the cowl and things in the family seemed to be returning to some semblance of normal.

Well, as normal as it could get, really.

But all that goodwill and positivity is literally ghost. Red’s hands are shaky and his inner calm is absolutely blown. He’s ducking into his perch to throw his suit off, grab his duffle bag full of sundries and fake idents, then he’s going to hit the airport as fast as he can get a flight the hell out of town, away from the terrifying sight.

(He should just call Bart or Kon or Cassie, tell them he needs an out faster than he can arrange it himself, he needs to get away from–)

He knows he fucked up when the slight sounds, small and metallic in nature, make it past his pulse thumping in his ears.

Like a horror flick, he slowly turns as the front door gives a groan and is pushed open by a very familiar palm.

Dick’s blue eyes fall on him like a ton of bricks, on Red Robin’s feet frozen to the floor, his suit only half on, and no way he can get far enough to throw himself out a window.

Fuck.

“So,” Dick keeps his voice soft, footsteps easy as he steps inside Tim’s penthouse and closes the door behind him, “you finally found me out.”

Keeping his mouth shut in times like this has really saved his ass before, so Red doesn’t say a word, keeps every muscle in his body ready to spring for the right second –

Watching the would-be robber struggle in Dick’s grip, watching the light show brighten overwhelmingly, seeing what had to be-had to be feeding.

“I figured it would be you if anyone, actually, so I’m not really surprised, just… disappointed.” Dick continues softly, only in jeans and a t-shirt since Nightwing was oddly missing from the patrol roster last night.

And Red is apparently the only one that knows why.

“But that doesn’t mean I can just let you go, Timmy,” Dick isn’t stopping, his whole body lax while Red is wound tight, backing away from the man he thought he knew. “I really wish you hadn’t found out like this. I...I had other plans.”

Whirlybirds and pellets aren’t going to help him here. Hand-to-hand and martial arts, aerial acrobatics, none of it is going to make a difference.

His throat goes dry when Dick’s eyes get more and more blue, when his former mentor doesn’t stop advancing, and Red Robin is running out of room to back away.

“I tried to save you, Timmy. I tried so hard to get you away, out of Gotham, even if you went because you thought you had to find Bruce, I’m the one that gave you the compulsion to leave.” The low laugh is edged with something desperate, “why the hell couldn’t you stay away?”

“This is my city, just as much as Batman’s. You taking my fucking cape wasn’t enough,” Red Robin bites out, back thumping against the kitchen counter, realizing Dick had backed him into the corner. “How did you keep it from him? Constantine, Zatanna, all the magic users he has on speed dial and he never figured you out? No one in the JLA or Titans did?”

That makes Dick pause.

“He never had to. He knew what my parents were before they ever died, Timmy. Haley’s Circus came to Gotham regularly. Bruce always knew.”

The information blast hits him painfully, that Bruce didn’t bother to tell him and look at where they are now.

“And he didn’t try to help you?” Red, Tim, gapes at the still silhouette that used to be someone he thought he knew like he knew himself. Someone that’s always had this secret. “He didn’t try to –”

“Cure me?” Dick’s mouth lifts in a semblance of a smile Tim knows. “There is no cure for this, Timmy. It’s what I am. What my parents both were, the curse of the Romain Bababiljos. It’s unfortunate for me both of them were cursed, that just makes the...the hunger two-fold.”

And it’s just a few more steps, a raised hand that makes Tim flinch back, but only a fingertip taps the edge of the domino, makes the whiteouts raise.

Automatically, with everything he’s learned, studied, experienced about supernatural creatures, he ducks his head so he isn’t looking directly into those eyes. That doesn’t stop Dick from bracketing Tim in, both hands on the counter, their bodies a breath apart.

Dick laughs softly, close enough for Tim to feel the breath on his face. “The Titans...I never had to tell them. By then, I could control myself, at least mostly. The JLA? I’m one of the Batman’s proteges. I’ve been fighting crime since I was eight. They believe in me. There was never a reason for any of them to look too deeply past the surface.”

“Wh-what do you mean mostly?” Tim’s heart slams in his chest, “how many people have you killed, Dick?”

“Do you have any idea how awful the hunger is?” And the lower Dick’s voice goes, the harder Tim’s heart starts to pound. “Surviving on hugs and family affection is tantamount to starvation for someone like me. It’s so easy to kill someone during sex because the hunger is so much I can’t control it sometimes. Anyone I’m with is in danger. That’s why I couldn’t stay with Babs, she’s too human. The one time I came close–”

Dick breathes again and all Tim looks at is the span of throat, thinking of the soft, vulnerable parts, anything he can use to get the fuck away.

“–but I didn’t. I have...willpower sometimes. I drained her so close, though. She was-was so fragile, Timmy, and I was so hungry. I’d been starving for so damn long. She was hospitalized for longer than she’d been when the Joker shot her, and I said never again. But Wally and Kory were...different. I could go further with him without killing them, I could get more full than I’d been in a long time. It was still dangerous for them, but I was so far gone by the time...”

“They’re both still alive. Babs is still alive. Does she–?”

“Remember? Of course not. None of them do. I made sure of that, Tim, so none of them would be afraid of me.” And the air changes when Dick gets closer, his eyes get brighter, and Tim almost chokes with the almost touch to his body under his suit. “But, you are going to be different, aren’t you? I’m not going to be able to convince your mind that what you saw was a dream.”

“So what? You’re going to make me “disappear”? You’ll give Bruce some sob story about how I got tired of the vigilante life and left for college or some shit? Going to bury me where no one will ever find me?” He isn’t looking at Dick’s face, can’t see his own end coming, can’t believe he’d put all his faith and belief in this man only to have it all come to this.

Tim laughs wetly, blinking rapidly, and everything suddenly comes together. “He won’t ever come looking for me anyway. You made sure of that when you made Damian your Robin. Nice plan, Dick. No one is going to give a shit if I’m never seen again anyway.”

And it’s stupid not to at least try, not to duck and kick out, trip up whatever Dick really is, to break a window and fucking run, try to get Bruce, Clark, Kon and Bart and Cassie, to get anyone to listen to him about what Dick really is, to try to save himself.

(If you’d never figured out Dick was Robin, if you never put yourself in front of him, you’d be safe now. Miserable but safe.)

Even if it’s his own brain pan spitting this out, he knows it’s bullshit.

If he’d never approached Dick Grayson with proof Batman was losing his mind, Tim Drake wouldn’t have reached twenty-one. The way his life was going, he would have probably hung himself long before getting to this stage in his life. If he’d never had Bruce or Alfred or Dick or Steph, if he’d never had Robin, never had Young Justice or The Titans, if he’d never had the Clench, never felt the rumble under his feet as Gotham had fallen, if he’d never had the agony of losing everyone in his life, if he’d never had the drive to prove his adopted father was alive…

The civilian Tim Drake wouldn’t have had the strength to make it through life alive.

So if this is the way he goes out, if Dick is the one that ends it for him–

There’re worse ways to go.

He’s not going to be the Joker’s next victim or Ra’s al Ghul’s heir with a mix of Lazarus Pit crazy. The HIVE, the Light, the mass of aliens he’s fought, any number of Rogue Gallery thugs, none of them will be the ones to take him out.

But this?

His career as Robin started out with Dick Grayson, so maybe...maybe it’s fitting this is the way it all ends.

He sucks in a breath and finally tilts his head up, looks up into those electric blue eyes, and lets his breath out so so slow.

Because Dick is looking at him with watery eyes, with a grimace, with something Tim can actually recognize.

But those eyes light up in his penthouse perch, take on a supernatural glow, Dick snatching his wrists in bigger hands, pulling Tim closer, the heat getting through layers of Kevlar and Nomex. And just like that, he can’t pull away, can’t pull back.

There’s no way to defend himself when Dick pulls him in, when he expects to get his throat ripped out, his neck snapped, something important crushed, for the darkness to take over and his heart to slow down to a sad, weak pitter patter.

He can’t defend himself when Dick kisses him, opens his mouth, and stuns him into going completely slack.

“I told you,” Dick growls softly when he pulls back, bends enough to get Tim laid out over his shoulder, “I had other plans.”

But Tim can’t reply, can’t do anything other than lay across Dick’s back as the Romani love deamon strides down the hallway and kicks open the bedroom door.

And if Tim Drake survives until morning, shocking the hell out of the both of them, staring up at Dick’s surprised face and glowing blue eyes, if the soft touch to his jaw contrasts sharply with the bruises and red marks blossoming all over his body from an intense night with his supernatural mentor and best friend, if Dick doesn’t whisper, “finally, finally, my mate,” before kissing him.

If the power Dick drains from him doesn’t kill him, doesn’t do more than give him the most amazing span of unending multiple orgasms to ever happen, if Dick isn’t fully satisfied for the first time in his life. If Dick doesn’t call them both off patrol for the next three nights, carts Tim back to his apartment, refuses him clothes and computers and tech, tells the Titans they’re taking a break from crime fighting while Tim is tied and gagged in his bed, sated enough to listen hazily with half-mast eyes.

If Dick doesn’t hand feed him while he’s getting feeling back in his legs (finally) and give him the full run-down about his parents. If the strange mark on his abdomen doesn’t get warm whenever Dick’s hand is on it, fingers tracing the edges, making those blue, blue eyes dilate in possessiveness. If Tim doesn’t eventually escape with his sanity intact and a little terrified how much his body craves only to have Dick chase after him with single-minded purposes to convince him they’re meant to be.

Then only the man with cameras all over Gotham, waiting and watching with bated breath and fear for his Robins, unmitigated relief when his theory proves true, would be able to give all the details.

#dicktimweek2021 #winter writes #dicktim #back on my shit #dick grayson #tim drake #my ficlet #my writing

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atlafan · 4 years

Text

The Real Him - One Shot

a/n: I’m not sure where this came from...a lot of this is sort of how I feel about writing, and reading, and how my brain works???? Hope you enjoy cause it’s fun! Book Writer!Harry x Y/N (not proofread)

Words: 9.6K

Warnings: Fluff, wee bit of angst, and smut

Books weren’t things Y/N found interesting. She hated reading the assigned books in high school for whatever English classes she had to take. She often would just read what she needed on Sparknotes, and that was enough. Then, in college, even if she wanted to read for leisure, she didn’t have the time. She had to read articles and academic journals constantly. By the time she was done for the day, the last thing she wanted to do was read.

Now, as a young adult living in the city, she noticed her anxiety was always worse at night. She lived alone in a little studio apartment, it had a wonderful view. She would watch TV or scroll on her phone until she fell asleep, but the screens were too much for her eyes. She knew it wasn’t good for her. Much to her friends’ shock, she texted them asking them for book recommendations. Y/N didn’t want to think too hard, she didn’t like scary stories, but she also liked a little bit of world building and romance. Fuck, if there was anything she loved, it was a good romance. Her friends told her about this young author they discovered whose stories were enthralling.

She took their word for it, and ordered one of his books off his website. He was self-published, which she found to be interesting. How good could he be if a major publication didn’t want him? She trusted her friends’ opinions though, so she went with it. He had this series called, The Unicorn in the Farmer’s Pool, that they raved about. She told herself she’d start with the first one and see how it goes. Sometimes Y/N had a hard time concentrating to even read a book, so she didn’t want to buy too many.

The title of the book itself was odd, but when she read the description she understood. Apparently, it was about this young woman, new to town, who was going for a walk with her younger sister, and one day they come across this beautiful old home and large farm. There was a pool in the back with one of those big unicorn floats, which they both found odd. They see the farmer outside, and the woman inquires about it. He explains that it’s his daughter’s. He and his wife were divorced, and she moved out to the city. Unfortunately, she passed away, so his little girl came home to live with him.

It was a certified slow burn, so when it came in the mail, Y/N couldn’t wait to get her hands on it. There was only one picture of the author, Harry Styles, on his website. The book, however, had a lovely picture of him on it. He even named his publication company after himself, trademarking HES Books. He was handsome, there was no denying that.

“Alright, let’s see how well this guy knows how to write thing from the perspective of a woman.” She says as she settles into her bed with the book.

For the first time in a long time, Y/N found a book that she just couldn’t put down. Sure, she passed out with it on her chest, but she’d get right back to it the next night. She was ripping through it. Her heart would race anytime the farmer and the woman had a scene together. She cried when he spoke about his divorce, and how he never slept knowing his daughter was so far away. He’d never wish his ex-wife ill, but he felt like it was fate to have his daughter home. He’d give her anything she wanted, even a giant unicorn float for the pool. Something she couldn’t have in the city. His daughter would paint his nails glittery colors, and he didn’t give a shit what anyone else thought of it. Y/N could feel her heart pounding as the woman slowly fell for him. They became fast friends but it was clear they wanted more, but they were both so scared.

“Oh, you son of a bitch.” She says to herself when she gets to the end of the book, it was a cliffhanger. They hadn’t even gotten together yet. They were caught in a rain storm, about to kiss, but they were interrupted. “Goddammit.” She groans and grabs her laptop to buy the rest of the series. “Welp, Mr. Styles, you now own my ass, I hope you’re happy.” She sticks her tongue out at his picture on his website.

By the time she finished the third book, she was inconsolable. It thrilling, but she knew it couldn’t be the end for the two who were now so in love with each other. She also couldn’t believe how well written their love scenes were, a little shocked there was a small dash of smut. She looked on his website and saw he was set to release the fourth and final book of the series soon, and there would be a big release for it. He would do a reading and signing. Y/N texted her friends and they all agreed they needed to go. They still couldn’t believe how much Y/N liked the series. It consumed her soul, she couldn’t get enough. She even bought his other standalone novels to read until the release.

Eliza: hey! HES just released the first book on audio, and he narrates it! Should hold us over until the release ;)

Y/N: holy fucking shit! Literally about to go download it, thanks!!!

Now this was a way to fall asleep, she thought. She plugged her earbuds into her phone, turned her light off, and hit play. She gasps the second she hears his voice.

“He’s British?!” She says to herself. “Dear god.”

His voice was deep and sultry, and sounded incredibly crisp through the audio. Each night for the rest of that week, she fell asleep to the sound of Harry’s voice; it was euphoric. She felt sort of weird for becoming as big of a fan of him that she was. It was like she was in high school again having a crush on some unattainable celebrity. She couldn’t even talk about him to anyone at work. It was like this big secret between her and her friends. Instead of listening to music in her office, she started listening to interviews or podcasts he was involved in. Anything to just get a better understanding for who he was or how his mind worked. She found that he was incredibly private, only tweeting or posting on Instagram from promotional purposes. A PR person most likely running the sites for him.

“Okay, I think I’m obsessed with him, like, it’s bad.” She tells her friends at brunch one Saturday morning. They would all try their best to get together a couple times a month.

“Welcome to the dark side.” Eliza says.

“I knew if we didn’t push you that you’d come around at some point to ask us for a book rec.” Melinda says.

“You could have just showed me his picture, he’s so handsome! I can’t wait to go to the signing. I wonder what type of suit he’ll wear. Maybe all black?”

“I heard he’s into florals lately.” Eliza says. “I’m glad we got our tickets when we did, it’s going to be packed.”

“Yeah, like, at least we’ll have seats for the reading.” Melinda says.

“I can’t believe we’re going to hear his voice in person. That audio book? Oh my god.” She pretends to fan herself. “I’ve been enjoying his other novels too. He has such a way with words, I can’t remember the last time I actually enjoyed a book this much. Maybe The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants?” She chuckles.

“Didn’t you read that in high school?!” Eliza laughs.

“Yeah!” Y/N laughs, and Melinda joins in. “I fucking hate reading. I wonder if he’ll ever sell the rights and have it turned into a movie or TV series.”

“People have been begging him. He said maybe once the fourth book has been out for a bit. He didn’t want to feel pressured, like, you know how with Game of Thrones the books didn’t come out fast enough for the series?” Melinda says.

“Oh yeah, that makes sense. I think a TV show would be good. Then they could take their time with it. The only thing is I can’t picture someone playing the farmer other than him.” Y/N sighs.

“Agreed.” Eliza says. “I can really only see him.”

“So, how are we dressing for the signing? I don’t wanna look desperate by dressing up too much.” Melinda says.

“Melinda…” Y/N starts chuckling. “You have a girlfriend.”

“I’m aware.” She swats a hand at Y/N. “But damn, Harry is too fine.”

Y/N curls the ends of her hair on the day of the signing. It was finally here, and she couldn’t be more excited. She found a cute yellow top to wear with some high waist jeans. She does some simple makeup, but makes sure to have her eyes pop. The rules were that people could only bring one book with them, so she grabs the first in the Unicorn series. She fully intended to buy the new book as well, and they said he would sign all new purchases too.

She meets Melinda and Eliza outside the bookstore where it would all be happening. They get in line to buy their new books, and head to their seats. They were able to snag tickets for the second row. He would be reading the first few chapters of the first book, and then would spend the rest of the time signing books.

“I’m so excited.” Y/N whispers to both of her friends.

A man comes out shortly to check the crowd of people waiting, and soon it’s announced that Harry would be coming out. Everyone stands up and claps for him. He was wearing a sleek black suit, and his hair was pushed back off his face. He looked bashful as he smiled out to everyone, and stood at the podium provided. Everyone sits back down as he clears his throat.

“Thank you all so much for being here. Whether you’re a new fan or if you’ve been with me for years, I appreciate your support. It feels surreal for this series to be over. I’ve loved these characters so much, and when I finished the final edits, it felt weird saying goodbye. I also want to say thanks for all the support with the first audio book. I fully intend to do one for the rest, it just takes a lot of time and editing, so hold tight for me, alright?” The crowd giggles, and his dimple grows deeper. He takes a sip of the water provided, and opens the book. “Let’s get started shall we?” He looks up at the audience who was waiting patiently. He makes eye contact with Y/N. It’s brief, but he looked at her…or at least she told herself he did.

His voice was just as smooth in person as it was on the audio. Y/N was swooning, barely paying attention to the words, but more so watching the way his lips moved. The way he’d lick his lips after getting a sip of water, and watching his Adam’s apple bob up and down. It all felt like a dream. He ended up reading five chapters instead of three, as a treat, until his manager came out to remind him to wrap it up.

“Right, well, I’ve been told I’m done speaking.” He chuckles. “I just need about ten minutes and I’ll be able to sign all your books. Thanks so much!”

He leaves as everyone claps for him again. Everyone gets in line and waits for him to return. There was a table waiting for him to sit at and a ton of markers.

“I wonder how long we’ll get with him. Like, a minute, right?” Eliza asks.

“Make every second count.” Y/N says.

“I’m gonna try to take a selfie.” Melinda says. “Then I’ll really remember it forever.”

As the girls got closer to the front of the line, Y/N felt herself getting nervous, and her palms were starting to sweat. She tries to wipe them on her jeans before she gets to him.

“Hello, love.” He smiles at her. “Whatcha bring f’me?”

“Huh?” She was so taken aback.

“Well, I know you didn’t come here to have me sign a body part…unless you did.” He shrugs. “Although, I don’t think my manager would appreciate that.” He winks at her and it makes her giggle.

“I have the first back, and the newest one.” She hands them both to him. “I have to say, I’m not really a big reader, but this really drew me in. I think I’ve fallen in love with reading for the first time in my life.”

“That’s like…I mean…wow, what a compliment, thanks.” He signs both of the books. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

“Y/N.” He repeats as he continues to leave a nice note in both of her books. “You know pictures aren’t allowed, but if you turn around and happen to take a selfie they can’t stop you.” He points to the few guards.

Y/N turns around and takes a selfie with Harry. She turns back around and chuckles as she takes her books back.

“Thank you so much. I can’t wait for the next audio books.”

“You liked the first one?”

“Loved it.”

“So, it wasn’t weird listening to me for that long?”

“Not at all…” She starts blushing. “Your voice is sort of, um, soothing…I have a lot of anxiety at night, and, well, reading, and evening listening has helped me sleep a lot better. So, thanks again.” She smiles at him and he smiles back.

He wished he could hug her. He looks back at his manager, who just sighs at him and nods. Harry stands up from the table and walks around. Before she knew it, his arms were being wrapped around her. She got a whiff of his cologne, and she swore it was her new favorite smell in the world. She barely got a chance to put her hands on him before his manager said it was enough and Harry needed to get back to it.

“Sorry, that was just so endearing.” He lets go of her and sits back down. “Thanks for your support.”

Y/N steps aside and looks at her friends who were waiting for her to finish up. She looks back at Harry who was already talking to the next person. She sighs, knowing she was long forgotten already.

“Oh my god, I took a picture of him hugging you.” Eliza says. “What was it like? All he did was shake my hand.”

“He smelled so good.” Y/N whines. “Girls, let’s go out for drinks tonight. I need to get some energy out.”

“Great idea! We can drink and then dance the night away.” Melinda says. “What did he write in your books?”

“I don’t wanna look yet, I wanna save it.” Y/N smiles and holds her books close to her.

After grabbing dinner and dropping their books off at Y/N’s place, they all head to their favorite dance bar. They all get their drinks and stand near the bar to drink them. Y/N was happily sucking on her straw, swaying along to the fast beat of the music.

“Look, they actually roped off the VIP section.” Eliza points out. Y/N and Melinda turn to look.

“I wonder who’s here. Once in a while someone cool shows up.” Melinda says.

The group in the VIP section erupts into laughter, and the girls’ eyes grow wide. Harry was standing up from the booth, looking much more casual. He still had his dress pants and button up on, but his sleeves were pushed up, revealing his tattoos. He strides up to the bar as he shakes his head back at his friends. He brushes right by the girls, bumping into Y/N, causing her to spill her drink.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry, love.” He says to her, and then he looks her up and down. “Do I know you?” He slurs slightly.

“Um…we…we met earlier today. You signed my books.”

“I signed your what?!” The music was really loud, he must have thought she said something else.

“Books, books!” She really enunciates the k sound.

“Oh!” He bursts out laughing, and puts a hand on her shoulder. “I was gonna say, that sorta thing isn’t really my style. What are you drinking, I’ll get you a new one.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. There’s still plenty in here.”

“Don’t be silly, I feel terrible. In fact,” He looks at Melinda and Eliza, and then to the bar tender. “Their next round’s on me. I also need another bottle of Patron for my table.”

“Coming right up!”

“Lost a bet with ‘em.” He rolls his eyes. “So the next bottle’s on me.” He shrugs.

“We’ll bring it over to you.” The bar tender says as she puts up three new drinks for you and your friends.

“You really didn’t have to do that.”

“S’the least I can do. Your support is the only reason why I can afford what I have. I should buy your drinks all night.” He smirks.

“Y/N.” Melinds grabs her shoulders and whispers in her ear. “Go for it, bitch, go for it. He’s hitting on you. We’ll be over there.”

She lets Y/N go and drags Eliza with her over to another part of the bar. Y/N grabs her drink and smiles at Harry.

“Your name’s Y/N, right?”

“You must have seen hundreds of people today, how’d you remember?”

“I’m really good with names.” He grins. “Do you want to join me and my friends?”

“What?!”

“Come on, seems like your friends are busy anyways.” He nods over to Melinda and Eliza where Melinda was working as a wing-man for Eliza. “They’re bringing over the Patron, you’ll love it.” He grabs her wrist and brings her over. One of the body guards raises his eyebrows. “I’m baacckk, let us in Mike.” Mike lifts the rope up and lets Harry and Y/N in. “Everyone this is Y/N, she’s got to be one of my biggest fans, so she’s joining us.” He pulls her down into the booth with him and puts his arm around her shoulders.

He was drunk, this was very clear. No one seemed bothered by her presence. Everyone was just happy to have refills for their drinks. Harry takes a shot of the Patron along with everyone else as Y/N sips on her drink. She felt bad, Eliza had to be a bigger fan of Harry, or at least she had been a fan longer…

“So, how’d you know he’d be here?” Harry’s manager, Jeff, asks.

“I didn’t.” She blushes. “My friends and I come here all the time.”

“Right, like we haven’t heard that one before.” Jeff smirks. “Some of you fangirls-“

“Oi! Don’t make fun, she’s cool.” Harry defends her.

“I can prove I’ve been here plenty of times.” Y/N takes her phone out and shows them her Facebook page. “There, you can see how many times I’ve checked in here. I only live a block away, so this tends to be the spot.”

“See, Jess, this is the spot.” Harry smirks, and knocks back another shot. “We’re being rude, here.” He slides a shot over to her. “Have as much as you like.”

“That’s okay, I have this.” She points to her glass.

“Oh, I knew I liked you, you’re so nice.” He pulls her a little closer to him. “But really, if you want any, you can have as much as you want, okay?”

“Thanks.”

Y/N sort of just sits there and tries to listen as each person talks, but the music was so loud, and she was itching to dance, especially now that she had a couple of drinks in her. She was drumming her fingers mindlessly on the table.

“Do you want to dance?” He whispers in her ear. A shiver goes up her spine. She looks up at him and nods. “Alright, let’s hit it then.”

She gets out of the booth and he quickly follows her out to the dance floor. At first it’s just light and playful, he keeps one hand in hers, but keeps a respectable distance. If Y/N was dancing with her friends right now she’d probably be popping her ass no problem. She sort of wished they were still around. She couldn’t remember the last time she danced with a guy. She looks at him and feels a little bold, so she hooks an arm around his neck and dances close to him. His hands move to her hips as she essentially grinds on his thigh. When the next song starts, she turns around to grind her ass against his pelvis. He presses forward against her and she can tell he’s very happy to be dancing with her.

“You said your place was only a block away?” He says into her ear, and she nods. “Wanna head there?”

She stops dancing and turns around to face him.

“Are you serious?” She raises an eyebrow at him.

“Sorry, too forward?”

“No…I just…um…yeah, let’s go back to mine.”

He smiles and throws his arm around her shoulders. He looks over at Jeff who was still sitting with their friends. He waves off to him, and heads out side with Y/N. Harry whistles for a cab, and one pulls up almost right away. They both get into the backseat, and Y/N gives the driver her address. Harry rubs circles into her shoulder. She rests her hand on his knee, as her leg shakes with nerves.

“You alright, love?”

“Mhm, yeah.” She doesn’t look at him.

“No need to be nervous, babe, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

She looks up at him now and smiles. She wanted to do everything with him. It was like every fantasy she had was coming to life. She had dreams about this, but never thought it would come true. The cab pulls up in front of Y/N’s building and they both get out of the cab. She keys into the front door and she leads him to the elevator.

“I’m surprised you’re not exhausted, must be draining to meet so many people.”

“Caught a second wind.” He winks at her. She giggles as they get off at her floor.

She leads him inside as she flips the lights on.

“It’s just a studio.”

“It’s nice, just enough space. You’ve got a great view.” He says as he walks over to the window.

“Yeah, I got really lucky.”

“Mind if I pull the curtains?”

“Not at all.”

She watches the muscles in his back flex as he reaches to pull the curtains closed. He turns to face her and walks over to where she is. He cups one of her cheeks and she leans into his touch.

“I have to be honest, I don’t usually do this.” He says.

“Do what? Hook up with a girl from a bar?” She smirks.

“No, hook up with a fan…” He sighs. “But what you said to me earlier about your anxiety and how my books have helped you, it stuck with me all day. I’m really glad I ran back into you. I got kinda nervous when you didn’t message me.”

“What? Why would I have?”

“I wrote my number in your book.” He lets go of her and steps back. “You didn’t read my notes?”

“No, I…I was saving them for when I was feeling down.” She admits, a little embarrassed. “Why did you put your number in it?”

“In case you ever needed someone to talk to…if you ever got sick of listening to the same story over and over. It was a little impulsive, but no one’s ever said anything like that to me before.”

“I’m surprised by that.”

“Usually people just tell me that they enjoyed it, or they try to flirt or something. It’s usually pretty hollow.” He shrugs. “But you…” He takes her hands in his. “Well…if you noticed, I didn’t really hug anyone else.”

“I did notice. You made me feel really special, Harry.”

“I’d like to keep making you feel that way…”

He releases her hands, and she wraps her arms around his neck. Her hands slide up through his curls, and she gets up on her tip toes while his arms wrap around her waist, pulling her close. His lips brush over hers, and she pulls his face closer to hers to deepen the kiss. She smiles against his lips which makes him smile and pull back.

“What is it?”

“I just…I can’t believe this is happening…” She presses her hips closer to his.

“You’ve thought about this before, with me?”

She nods her head yes and he smirks.

“Is that weird?” She asks, cheeks heating up from embarrassment.

“Who am I to judge what helps someone fall asleep at night?” His voice was low now, eyes darker than they were moments before.

Maybe this wasn’t something either of them should be doing while inebriated. But from lack of better judgement they start kissing again. His hands slide down to cup her ass, and his large hands give her a squeeze. She groans into his mouth, giving him the perfect excuse to lick into her. Her tongue molds to his, and she starts pushing him to walk back towards her bed. He happily lets her lead the way.

The back of his calves hit the bed, and he almost loses his balance. He sits down and brings her with him so she’s straddling his lap. Lips only breaking for a moment to get some air until they’re on each other again. Her hands lace through his hair and he groans when she tugs on him. His lips move to her jaw and then to just under her ear. She gasps when she feels him suck on the tender skin. Her hips roll down over his, and he smirks against her. He licks over the spot he was sucking on, and goes back for more. She grinds herself against him, feeling his bulge press up against where she needs it most. His lips move back to hers so he can nip at her bottom lip before looking at her.

“You want this?” He asks.

“Wouldn’t have said yes to coming back here if I didn’t.”

“You could have changed your mind between the bar and now.” He tucks some loose strands of hair behind her hair. “I meant what I said earlier, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“I want to, do you?”

“I certainly didn’t change my mind.”

She smiles and leans in to kiss him again before getting off him. She reaches behind him quickly to snag one of her throw pillows to put on the floor. She sits up on her knees before him and reaches for his for the button on his dress pants. She looks up at him as he widens his legs for her. He wasn’t expecting a blow job, but he wasn’t one to turn it down. She pops the button and undoes his zipper. She reaches into his pants and palms him through his boxers first. His palms were flat on the bed, his arms keeping him up, but he can’t help but let his head fall back from her touch.

“Harry, look at me.”

He immediately does as she says so he can make eye contact with her.

“Is this okay? Can I take it out?”

“Yeah, please.”

She smiles and tugs his pants and boxers down slightly, he lifts his hips up to help her. He unbuttons his shirt while his dick slaps up against his lower stomach. She gazes up at him. Once his shirt is off, she can’t help but look over all his tattoos.

“You’re so…pretty.” She chuckles.

“Not as pretty as you.” He runs his hands through her hair, giving her a little encouragement to get started.

She blushes as her eyes fall to his hard cock, tip swollen and ready to go. She licks her right hand and gives him a few pumps first. He grunts as he watches her. She licks a stripe up from his base to his tip before she wraps her lips around him. His eyes flutter closed for a second, but he didn’t want to miss anything so he does his best to keep his eyes open to watch her work on him. She already had small droplets of spit rolling down her chin. Sloppy, he thinks to himself and he smirks. She sinks a little further down on him, testing herself to see how much she can take. He thrusts up slightly to meet her halfway and she gags on him, needing to pop off for a moment.

“Sorry, been a while.” She mumbles, and gets back on him.

“No worries, doing great, love.”

He helps keep her hair back as she starts to bob up and down on him. Her warm mouth felt so fucking good around him. She swallows around him before really hollowing her cheeks to suck on him. Her mouth moves up to his tip so she can lick away at his slit. She wraps a hand around him to pump him as she does this.

“Baby, baby, hold on.” He pants, and moves her face away from him. She looks up at him with big, innocent eyes that were slightly watery now. “I’ll come if you keep doing that.” He sounded almost out of the breath. She nods and stands up. His hands grips her hips and then slide to the button on her own jeans. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.” She says, taking off her shirt. He looks up at her and kisses on her chest as he undoes her pants.

He yanks them down her legs. He smiles at her mismatched set of underwear. She had worn a white bra with her yellow shirt, and a simple pair of blue panties with her jeans.

“I didn’t think, um, I would be…it was a girl’s night, and-“

“Do you really think I care about your underwear not matching?” He raises an eyebrow at her as he smirks.

She smiles and rests her hands on his shoulders as he kisses on her lower tummy. He stands up to kick his pants away, and lets her get on the bed. She lays on her back, propping herself up with her elbows. He crawls onto the bed and settles between her legs. His lips find hers as he grinds himself against her covered center. She bites her bottom lip, just wanting her underwear gone. He reaches behind her to unhook her bra. After a few seconds of fumbling he gets it, and watches the bra loosen around her. She pushes it off her shoulders, and tosses it to the ground. His hands cup her full breasts immediately. He kneads them and tweaks her nipples. She grinds her hips up towards his as they continue to move against each other. He dips his head down to kiss on her chest, and he rolls a nipple between his teeth. He works his way down her body and slides her underwear down her legs, tossing them aside where he feels like. She parts her legs for him.

He dips his down and licks from her center to her clit. He does this slowly but with precision. Her hips buck up towards him, encouraging him to keep going, so he does. He licks all around her until his lips are around her throbbing clit. He nibbles and sucks and flicks his tongue while his fingers explore her folds. Her hands were in his hair. She kept thinking she was going to wake up. Any minute now she would snap out of her dream. She would pinch her eyes closed and expect to see the morning sun creeping through her windows, but not this time. When she opened her eyes there he was, head between her legs, lapping away at her. The clouds covering the moon and night sky. He had her whimpering and tugging at his hair. He wanted her to come, but not yet, just get her to the brink. She pouts at him when he lifts his head. He licks his lips and smiles at her.

“Got any rubbers?”

“Mhm, in the bathroom, I can-“

“I got it, just tell me where.”

“The box in the cabinet below the sink.”

He pecks her lips before going into her little bathroom. He smirked to himself wondering how he might shower the next morning. He was taller than the showerhead. He bends down to open up the cabinet and spots the box of condoms. It was opened, but not many were missing. Not the he was one to judge. Harry hooked up a lot. He grabs a couple, just in case they feel like getting frisky again later on, and heads back out. He rips the foil packet open and slides it on over his length. She bites her bottom lip in anticipation.

“Tell me something,” He starts as he gets back on the bed, between her legs, hovering over her body. “When you had me in your thoughts was it ever like this?”

He rubs his tip against her clit, getting her to moan out. He pushes into her entrance but doesn’t go much further until he gets his answer. His eyebrows were raised, looking at her.

“This is usually the part when I’d wake up.” She whispers. “Before anything good could really happen.” She cups his cheek and runs her thumb over his cheekbone. “Please.”

He kisses her as he pushes the rest of the way inside her. They both groan. She was so wet, even with the condom on, it still felt amazing. He was nice and snug inside her. He moves slowly at first to not hurt her. He hooks an arm under one of her legs to bring it up a little higher. He wanted to get in as deep as possible. She clutches at his shoulders as he drives it in.

“Oh my god.” She gasps as his tip brushes her g-spot. “Jesus Christ.” She grits her teeth.

“Ever had anyone like this before?” He says into her ear.

“Never this deep, shit.”

He sits up and puts both of her legs over his shoulders. His fingers press bruises into her thighs as he holds onto her. She looks up at him as her mouth falls open. He was ramming into her and it felt so good to fuck like this. She didn’t want to be treated delicately. What he was doing was amazing, but her clit was missing the friction, so her hand slides down to rub at it.

“Fuck.” He breathes as he watches her touch herself. He lets go of one of her thighs and moves her hand aside so he can rub it for her. Her head rolls back the second she feels his thumb on her.

“Just like that.” She pants. “Don’t stop.”

He grunts his response as he continues to fuck her. He could feel her tightening around his cock and he knew she was close. He rubs her a little faster, and watches as her body contorts under his.

“Let go, come on, show me how you do it, Y/N.”

That pushes her over the edge. She cries out as she comes around him. He rubs her still, but slows his pace to help her through it. She tightens around him again as she comes down from her bliss. He drops her legs and pulls out. He sits up against her headboard and pulls her into his lap. He doesn’t have her face him, though, he has her sit on him facing away. Her head rolls back against his shoulder once she sinks down on him. She uses her knees to push herself up and down on his cock. He bites down on her shoulder, licks up to just under her ear to suck on the tender skin again. His hands find her bouncing breasts, and he kneads them.

“Harry.” She groans.

“Feels good, love?”

“So good.” She turns her head and sticks her tongue out slightly so he’ll kiss her. His tongue meets hers and they practically slobber all over each other as her pace quickens on him.

His hands slide down to her hips to help her. He thrusts up into her to get into a rhythm. He could feel his orgasm bubbling at the base of his spine.

“Fuck, oh my god.” He moans, which makes her moan. She tightens around him. He wanted her to come again, to come with him, so he rubs her clit while she continues to bounce him.

“Shit, fuck, Harry!”

They come at the same time, both of them crying out form the intensity. He gives her a second to catch her breath before he lifts her off of him. She gets up and quickly walks to the bathroom to clean herself up. He goes in after her to rid himself of the condom. She was about to throw on a t-shirt when he comes back out.

“Don’t bother.” He smirks.

“What do you mean?”

“It’ll just come off again.”

“Oh.” She blushes and puts it back into her dresser.

He gets on the bed with her and pulls her close to his chest. His fingers run up and down her back lightly, causing goosebumps to raise on her skin. She rests one of her legs on top of his, and wraps her arm around his torso. She wasn’t sure if she’d have the energy to fuck him again so soon, especially when the rhythm of his heart beat was lulling her to sleep. Her eyes flutter closed. He looks down at her and smiles when he sees her lips parted. He kisses the top of her head, and slowly falls asleep himself.

The next morning, Y/N wakes up cozy, head stuffed into her pillow, blankets wrapped around her. It was darker than usual. Her eyes flutter open and see the rain falling down. She hears it tapping delicately against her windows. It was a normal Sunday morning, or it would have been if she hadn’t completely forgotten there was a warm body wrapped around her. She rolls over slowly not to disturb the stranger. She gasps to herself when she sees it really is Harry Styles, not just some guy that looked like him. She really took him home with her and she really fucked him. He pulls her closer to her and she sighs.

“Your bed’s comfy.” He mutters.

“Thanks, I’ve got one of those foam pads under the sheets. Makes a world of difference.”

She feels his chest rumble as he chuckles. She feels him press a soft kiss to her forehead before pulling away slightly.

“Mind if I grab a shower?”

“Not at all.” She smiles up at him. “If you don’t mind smelling like my fruity shampoo, that is.”

“You’re funny.” He chuckles again and stretches as he sits up. He rubs his eyes, and gets out of the bed. Y/N couldn’t help but ogle his naked body as he walks away. He pops his head out of the door frame to look at her. “Are you coming?”

“Oh…you wanted me to-“

“Obviously.” He scoffs. “Wouldn’t mind fucking you again, either.”

Normally she’d wrap herself in a blanket, but if he was going to be bold, then so was she. So she gets out of bed and struts over towards him. She brushes her teeth quickly as he uses some mouth wash. She gets the water in the shower going.

“Does that head detach? I don’t know if I can crouch for that long.” He laughs.

“Yeah, it comes right off, don’t worry.” She pulls back the curtain and they both get in.

She helps him wash up, scrubs her nails over his head as she washes out the shampoo, and once they’re both clean, he hoists her up against the wall, and kisses her. She was plenty wet for him, and he smiles against her as he slips a finger inside her.

“You were ready f’me, hm?”

“Guess so.” She nips at his bottom lip, which delights him.

“Mind if I just slip it in like this and pull out after?”

“That’s fine.” She smiles. “Wouldn’t mind actually being able to feel you.”

“Christ.” He groans, and then pushes his hard cock inside her. Her head rolls back against the tile as his lips attack to her throat.

It was a nice, passionate morning fuck. When they’re done she gets him a towel, and wraps one around herself. He watches as she runs around to make her bed back up. It was a small apartment, so any clutter just made it look even smaller. He grabs his phone out of his pants pocket, and sighs.

“Alright?” She asks, sitting on the edge of her bed. He comes to sit down next to her.

“Yeah, just a ton of missed calls and texts. Thought I made it pretty clear to Jeff I wouldn’t be coming back to the hotel last night.”

“Do you have a plane to catch or anything?”

“Not today, tomorrow though.”

She watches as he types away to respond to the dozen or so texts he had form various people.

“Would you like any coffee or anything? Juice?”

“Just a black coffee would be perfect if it’s not too much trouble, love.”

“Coming right up.”

His eyes flicker up to watch her bum and hips sway as she walks into the kitchen area. She fills up her Keurig to get his coffee going.

“No cream or sugar, just black?”

“Please.” He smiles. “Thanks.”

She nods and gets a mug down from her cabinet to place under the machine. She thinks he’s talking to her for a moment, but when she looks over she can see he’s on the phone.

“I’m not sure when I’ll be back. I’m well aware, thanks.” He sighs and shakes his head. “I’m allowed to go out and have some fun.” He crosses a leg over the other so he can rest his elbow on his thigh, propping his chin up with his palm. “She’s making me a cup of coffee, is that alright? No, I don’t just carry those in my back pocket…” He rolls his eyes. “I’ll take care of it. Alright, bye.”

She comes over to him with a mug for him, and one for herself. She added a bit of cream to hers. She just couldn’t do black coffee.

“Thank you so much, feel like I’m about to get a headache.” He says, taking the mug from her, smacking his lips after he takes a sip.

“I have some aspirin if you need some.”

“Caffeine should work just fine, but thank you.”

“So, uh, not that I was listening in or anything, just, small space and all, but what don’t you carry around in your back pocket?”

“Oh.” He chuckles. “An NDA, that’s all. Jeff’s gonna email one over to me any second I’m sure.”

“What do you need an NDA for?”

“It’s not for me, it’s for you.” She looks at him deeply confused. “I’m a very private person, and not that I think you’re the type to go around spouting your business, it’s just, well, you’re a fan and…”

“You need me to sign an NDA so I won’t tell anyone we fucked?”

“Basically, yeah. Sorry if that makes things a little awkward. It’s just to keep my personal life personal, that’s all.” He takes another sip of the coffee. “This is really good, what brand is this?”

“Green Mountain Coffee…it comes from Vermont.”

“It’s delicious, I’ll have to look into it.” He smiles, although she can tell she’s starting to feel uneasy. She’s painfully aware that this was just a drunk hookup, a one night stand. “Are you alright?” He puts a hand on her knee.

“M’fine, just a bit groggy.” She sips her own coffee.

“Well, I’m starved, you’ve gotta be too, right? What a good place to grab some breakfast around here?” He stands up and starts looking for his clothes.

“Um…there’s a place right down the street.”

“We’ll have to take a cab unless you have a really big umbrella.” He smirks as he pulls his boxers on.

“Do I have to sign an agreement saying I won’t talk about breakfast too, or?”

Harry sighs as he pulls his pants on. She looks at him as she sips her coffee.

“Guess I’ll find out when I read the fine print.” She stands up and walks back over to her kitchen area. He follows her there with his mug and sticks it in the sink.

“Why is it such a big deal?”

“It’s not, I just…I mean…what do you think I’m going to do? Go onto a blog and spill every detail about last night? As if I could remember every little thing.” She scoffs and rinses out her mug.

“You easily could. You have to understand, sometimes when stories slip or people feel like they know things about you, it’s harder to get deals or make business decisions. I want to be taken seriously, so I don’t post personal things on social media, and I have the people I hook up with sign NDA’s.”

“Well, maybe I should have you sign one for me then.” She says, crossing her arms. He raises an eyebrow at her. “How do I know our night together won’t be inspiration for your next love scenes? You’re quite descriptive in your works. You must take from real life when you’re writing those things.”

“I’ll tell you what, I’ll text Jeff and have him email me two, one for each of us. I won’t talk about you and you won’t talk about me. Now, can we please go get some breakfast?”

“Why do you even want to go anywhere with me if you’re so scared of people finding out?” She walks over to her dresser to pick out an outfit she wouldn’t mind getting wet in the rain.

“It’s one thing to be seen with someone at a diner, it’s another to have what you’re like in the bedroom aired out to millions of people.”

“It’ll be obvious we slept together. My neck is littered with kiss marks.” She taps over one of the spots. He watches as she wriggles a pair of panties up her legs, and then a pair of jeans. “You’re also wearing your clothes from last night.” She tosses him his button up.

“I don’t suppose you have a large t-shirt I could throw on?”

“I’m sure I could find one.” She find a bra and t-shirt of her own, and then rummages through her pajama drawer for one of her larger bed shirts. “Here.” She hands him the shirt. He puts it on and looks down at it.

“Cute.” He smiles. “You can keep mine, and I’ll keep this one, how’s that sound?”

“Guess I’m just glad that’s not my favorite one.” She grabs her raincoat and umbrella. She furrows her brows and then remembers where her rubber boots on. “Could you order an uber or something?”

“Sure.”

They get down to the street, and head into the car he ordered. The diner was busy when they got there, but since it was just the two of them, they didn’t have to wait long to be seated. Harry’s phone pings with the email from Jeff.

“So…I just need to digitally sign it?”

“Mhm.” He hands his phone over to her so she can read over everything. He rests his chin on his palm. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen someone read over it so diligently before.”

“I’m a lawyer.” She mumbles.

“No shit.” He sits up, suddenly even more intrigued with her. “Good for you.”

“Well, I’m in law school, and I work as a para at a law firm, but I’m getting there.” She says as she uses her finger to sign her life away. “I’d like to read the one he sent to you for me.”

“Just swipe to the next email.”

She nods and looks it over. It was the same as her. She hands him back his phone and watches him sign it.

“I’d like both copies emailed over to me.”

“Alright, what’s your email?”

“I’ll put it in.” She takes his phone back and puts her information in, sending herself the copies. “There.” She crosses her arms. “Happy?”

“Yes, actually.”

A waitress comes over to them, and they both order scrambled eggs with bacon, potatoes, and toast. It’s quiet between them for a few moments. She looks out the window to watch the rain fall, and then looks back at him. He was twiddling his thumbs in his lap.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?” He looks up at her.

“What am I doing here with you? You could have easily slipped out this morning, even last night…”

“I’m not that kind of guy.”

“So…what is this, a consolation before we never see each other again?”

“No.”

“Then what is this?! I feel like I’m not even looking at a real person. I’ve wanted to meet you for so long, and I would have killed for the opportunity to sit down and have breakfast with you. I have so many questions about your work, and-“

“So, ask me.”

“What?”

“Ask me all your questions. What can I answer that I haven’t already in an interview? You wanna know my thought process? Where and what I get inspired by? How long it takes me to write a book, a chapter even? I only have bullshit answers, to be honest. I keep notes on my phone for when I get inspired, and then when I’m able to be at my computer I’ll type for hours without stopping. It’s like I blackout or something. It feels like I didn’t even take a second to blink. I’ll work on multiple projects at the same time too. I have three other books I’m currently working, all with completely different topics and characters. I can’t shut my brain off, ever. I don’t know why I’m like this. Even when I go on a vacation to unplug, I have to keep a notebook with me to write things down. I started writing because I just needed to get everything out of my head. I feel a huge sense of relief when I’m done with a piece so I can just move on from it. I had to start my own publication because my content was going to be put in the same category as Fifty Shades, and I didn’t want that. Luckily, Jeff went to school for PR, and he helped me out, and now he’s my manager. He’s the best there is, but sometimes it would be nice to fuck a pretty girl and take her to breakfast without having to worry about every little thing.”

Before Y/N can respond their food is brought over. They both thank the waitress. She picks her for up and plays with her potatoes before looking at him.

“Not to mention, said pretty girl told me how much my work means to her, how it helps her sleep at night. Fuck, I mean, I thought I was going to melt into a fucking puddle right there. My anxiety gets bad at night too, I knew exactly where you were coming from, babe. I can’t tell you how many nights I try to go to sleep and can’t, so I just get up and go back to my computer until I pass out in my chair.” He blinks at her, as she still says nothing. “Are you…not going to say anything?”

“I’m not sure what to say, I’m trying to take in everything you said and match it to the person you were yesterday at that signing. It’s an act, right? Your cool demeanor?”

“I have a stage presence for sure.” He sighs, and takes a bite of his bacon. “What am I gonna do, get up there and tell everyone that the fourth book took so long because I had to have surgery for carpal tunnel?”

“For someone who likes to be so private, you’re sure telling me a lot of personal things.”

“You signed something saying you wouldn’t discuss any of this, so I feel a little freer to explain myself. Have I totally ruined your perception of me? Is this a never meet your hero sort of moment?”

“Not at all.” She smiles. “You seem comfortable with me, which is nice. I like that I’m seeing this side of you, you’re more than just the suave guy I’ve seen in interviews, or listening to on podcasts. You’re a person, just like me.”

“Exactly, so you understand why I might want some privacy.”

“I do.” She nods and finally takes a bite of her food. “I’m sorry if I got a little pissy about it.”

“Don’t be, it’s always an awkward conversation to have.”

“So, how many women do you hook up with exactly? You’re making yourself sound like a player.” She chuckles.

“I mean…I’m a guy who has needs. I’m not gonna lie, I probably do it a little too much, but I don’t usually spend this much time with the person, or if I do…well…it’s not usually like this.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to actually have a conversation with you.” He shrugs. “You peaked my interest.”

“Clearly.” She smirks.

“At least I’ve never rubbed one out to the thought of a famous person.” He smirks back.

“Oh, I’m sorry, do you consider yourself famous?” She grins at him. “And I haven’t rubbed one out, it’s usually just a dream. Don’t flatter yourself, Harry.” She shakes her head.

“My bad, so I’ll just assume you get that wet for every guy you hook up with?”

Where was this conversation going, and why was it happening in such a public place? Was he trying to rile her up?

“I don’t think this is appropriate to talk about right now.” She whispers harshly.

He smirks and continues eating. They look at each other occasionally as they eat. The waitress comes over with the bill, and Harry throws some cash down on the table.

“Let me pay the tip at least.” She says, reaching for her purse.

“Don’t be silly, I put plenty down for the tip. I’ve got it.” He puts his hand over hers. “Seems like the rain’s stopped, wanna walk back?”

“Do you not need to be anywhere?”

“Nope.” He smiles. “Today’s my free day, isn’t that nice? I’ve got a plane to catch tomorrow morning, and that’s all I have to worry about. So, I’m more than happy to walk you back home.”

She nods and follows him out of the diner.

“So, do I only get your email, or do I get your number too?”

“Why, so you can hit me up whenever you’re in the city?”

“Precisely.” He nudges her as she laughs. “Come on, I gave you mine.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t even look…I would have been so embarrassed, you would have forgotten all about me. I don’t even know if I would have even had the courage to message you.”

“I wouldn’t have forgotten you.”

“Did you manager know you just gave your number out like that?”

“God no, he’d murder me.” Harry chuckles. “Jeff’s great, but he’s way too serious.”

“So, maybe I’ll message you sometime.”

“I prefer chatting on the phone, to be honest.”

“Why’s that?”

“Anyone can send a text, but a phone is, like, I don’t know, it’s romantic.”

“Romantic?”

“Yeah, like, a phone is something you really need to make time for.”

She pouts at him and looks at him with big eyes. They stop once they’re in front of her building.

“I come back to the city in two weeks, I really would like to see you again.”

“What are you coming back for?”

“Another signing. This one sold out, and I felt bad. I think anyone who wants to see me should.” He shrugs. “I wouldn’t have anything that I do if it weren’t for the people who supported me.”

“That’s sweet.” She smiles. “Okay, I guess we could see each other again.”

“Great, just make sure you call me, okay? Then I can call you, and we’ll just be two people calling each other sometimes.” He blushes.

“Why are you so romantic?” She laughs and wraps her arms around his waist.

“I wish I knew. It’s a blessing and a curse, I think.” He sighs and cups her cheeks. He leans in and kisses her, she happily kisses him back and pulls him closer.

“Do you, um, need to go back to your hotel now?”

“Not necessarily, what’d you have in mind?” He raises an eyebrow at her. She leans up and whispers in his ear, making his cheeks grow hotter. He looks at her, a little stunned. “I definitely have time for that.”

“I figured you would.” She winks at him and yanks him into her building.

She wasn’t ready to let go of him just yet. Everything still felt like a dream, only better. Even when Harry had to go off to his next signing, she slept better than she ever had. She called him late one night, much to his surprise, and they spoke for hours. She didn’t have to listen to the same words over and over to fall asleep, she had him, the real him.

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles smut

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delos-mio · 3 years

Text

Out of the Woods - College!AU - PART 1

A/N: Welp, here it is! Part 1 of my silly little AU for my favorite silly little king. I really hope I can do him justice and I greatly appreciate any comments and questions you may have! No major triggers- only implied drug use, drinking, allusion to sexy stuff. So, without further ado..

If you had to gaze into a crystal ball at the beginning of the year, this would not have been the future you expected to see. You didn’t plan on being unhoused, stuck in an idle relationship, and debating dropping out of school all together. But here you were, trying your very best to pick up the pieces, salvage what little motivation to carry on that you had left. It could have been worse. It could have been much worse, at least that’s what you kept telling yourself to keep from crumbling entirely. You were never one to back down though, and these few hurdles sure as hell weren’t going to be the thing to break you. At least one of your problems was solved.

You had just emptied the last of the boxes left from moving and were hanging up the rest of your clothes when there was a soft knock on your door. Genya popped her head in, smiling brightly.

“Hey. I was just making sure you were getting settled ok,” she said.

“Yeah, I’m just about done unpacking I think.” You sat down next to her on the edge of your bed. “Thanks again for letting me live here. You have no idea how much you saved his ass,” you laughed.

“Don’t mention it! I’m happy to have someone else here, honestly.” She seemed to mean it, so you decided not to keep groveling. “Anyways, I just had a friend text me about a party tonight if you wanted to go?”

Your party days were almost entirely behind you. Freshman and Sophomore year were a haze of booze and recreational drugs, leading to you almost flunking out of school on more than one occasion. You’d since cleaned up your act, for the most part, and found you way back on the Dean’s list. But...it was a Friday afterall. And you’d just spent all day moving and contemplating your entire life- did that not earn a beer or two?

“Yeah, ok. Ok. That sounds good,” you said with a nod.

“Awesome! I think we’re meeting there around 10ish, so I’ll come grab you to get ready in a little bit.”

“Get ready? Are we 18 and going to our first frat party?” you joked, making Genya laugh.

“I was thinking about it more so as a roomie bonding activity, but if you wanna be a brat…” she drawled, trying to keep the smile off her face.

“Come back in an hour,” you finally sighed. Genya looked simply delighted as she exited, very clearly planning out looks for you both in her head.

As you went to finish up organizing your closet, you felt the familiar buzz of your phone in your pocket.

Matt: u coming over tonight?

You couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling back in your skull. That probably shouldn’t happen when you get a text from your boyfriend.

Y: can’t, sorry. Going out with Genya M: ok- have fun. Make good choices. Y: wtf does that mean M: just to make good choices? Jesus does everything have to be a fight? Y: i’m not trying to fight omg Y: i’ll just talk to you later M: k

K. He had some fucking nerve.

---

Across campus, Nikolai wasn’t having much better of an evening.

"Do I have to?"

"Yes." Aleks's tone was final; Nikolai knew there was no point in trying to bargain with him at this point.

"Jesus, fine." Nikolai’s fate had been decided and it was now mandatory that he go to the Delta Chi party that night. And here he had been looking forward to a quiet evening alone with his guitar and journal...

"It'll be fun, you sad sack. And I really want you to meet Alina," Aleks chastised.

"I didn’t know you missed my irreplaceable company quite this much."

Aleks gently threw a pencil across the table at his head. "Maybe you'll even catch a new fish of your own, huh?" he said with an obnoxious smirk. Nikolai just chuckled, nodding noncommittally before heading off to his bedroom.

It's not that he didn’t want to go. Well, he didn’t, really. But normally, he would. It’d been about a month since he called it off with the girl he met in Statistics. And it's not like he even missed her all that much- he knew she wouldn’t be around long from the start. But he was still stuck in the “mope in his room, write songs about heartbreak” phase of his healing. Because of such, he hadn't felt like partying much lately, but he’d blown off Aleks the last 3 weekends...he wasn't going to let Nikolai say no again.

Nikolai figured the least he could do is try and look presentable. It was unlike him to spend as much time in sweats as he had; his sense of style had always been impeccable. He was a man who knew he was handsome and knew the best way to broadcast just that. He pulled out tight black jeans and paired them with a powder blue button down with the sleeves rolled up, maybe a couple of the top buttons left undone. He pushed his golden hair back out of his hazel eyes and scrutinized himself in the mirror. To his horror, he looked like he hadn't had a good night of sleep in a week, which was true. Overall, it could have been better, but it could be worse. With a sigh, he grabbed his phone and keys before going out to find Aleks.

They got to the Delta Chi house, and there were already a few guys passed out on the lawn. Nikolai wasn’t surprised, but it was only 10:30. They must have been freshmen. Aleks lead the way to the porch where a petite dark haired girl turned around and beamed at them.

"You're late!" she says with a clearly fake pout. Aleks leaned in to kiss it away and Nikolai looked everywhere but at them.

"Sorry, sorry, I know. Miss Princess here had to be dragged out of his cave," he laughed at his expense. "Alina, this is Nikolai. Nikolai, Alina."

"Nice to finally meet you," Alina smiled. She's cute, he can give Aleks that.

"I’ll have you know I was not in a cave. I was waxing poetic about love lost, heartbreak and what have you,” Nikolai smirked as Alina laughed.

"Genya and her new roommate are already inside," Alina said, grabbing Aleks's hand.

Thank god. Not that he didn't want to spend time with them or get to know Alina, but he didn't really want to watch them suck face and play third wheel all night. Genya had been a friend of theirs since Freshman year- she smoked them down at a random dorm party and she'd been part of the gang ever since. Nikolai pushed through the crowd and made it along with Aleks and Alina to the kitchen. There were fewer people back here and Nikolai felt like he could breathe again.

"Nik," Genya chirped and threw her hands up excitement. "He lives!"

"You saw me Wednesday," Nikolai laughed. “But, I understand. Aleks was desperate for his company too. It must have been unbearable without me.”

"I really didn't think Aleks would get you to come," she said with an easy grin. Genya handed him a cup of what he assumed was beer. "Doesn't matter. You're here now."

They all circled up and chatted for a minute. For once in his life, Nikolai felt like he was noticeably quiet, but he found he didn’t have much to add. They didn’t want to hear about how he managed to cook a meal TWICE last week. Or how he’d written probably a dozen songs, all of them dogshit. Genya was grinning at a story their friend William was telling when she looked over his shoulder and motioned for someone to join them.

"Guys! Guys! This is my new roommate," Genya said. Ah yes, the new roommate. How could Nikolai forget?

New Roommate had wedged themselves into the circle two people away from Nikolai. He looked up from his cup and immediately locked eyes with you. Honestly, the name should have tipped him off. He never, ever thought he’d see you again. There's no way you possibly remember him, right? God, you were still so beautiful.

"Nikolai?" you asked with a tight voice, eyes jumping all around his face. And it's right about then that Nikolai wished he got a little more beauty sleep. Here you were, practically glowing, while he looked like the walking dead.

"Hey," he breathed out. It sounded a lot more desperate than he meant it to, but you always have had that effect on him.

"You guys know each other?" Aleks interjected.

"It's uh, it's been a few years, but yeah," you said with a blush, looking down into your cup. Aleks and Genya both looked at Nikolai with a raised eyebrow. He could feel the sweat pricking along his brow. Fuck, now all eyes were on him...

"Maybe there's a spot open for beer pong. Let's go check it out." Thank you. Subtle, Genya. "You guys can catch up," Genya said walking past you and patting Nikolai on the shoulder. The rest of his friends followed suit and Nikolai was left alone with you, staring not so subtly.

You hadn’t grown an inch. You’d lost the bright red glasses too. But, god, you were still the most gorgeous creature Nikolai had ever laid his eyes on. Really, he couldn't have lost his virginity to a hotter person.

It's your typical boy-meets-girl story. Nikolai first saw you at the rink where he played hockey in high school. Your parents owned the building and seeing as such, you were employed as the kid behind the concession stand. Nikolai remembered the first time he saw you, he thought you looked like a dork. A very hot dork, but a dork all the same. Nikolai began to notice you watching him in particular during practice, which just further flustered his raging teen hormones.

One night, after everyone else had left practice, Nikolai stayed behind and introduced himself to you. He’d never seen such a beautiful mouth and he had to resist the urge to kiss you right then and there. It became habit that he stay after practice and lean against the counter to shamelessly flirt with you. You often had the rink to yourselves by that time, so Nikolai felt like he could really be himself during those hours. He was still figuring out his place in the world and had stuck-up parents who would never approve of him taking you home. But in the lowlights of the concourse, he was allowed to have a crush on you.

Flirting led to making out behind the counter. Making out behind the counter led to hand stuff in your beat up purple van once you locked up for the night. Hand stuff led to him fucking you in the locker room shower. It was both of your first time and it could have been much less hurried. But you were young and inexperienced and horny as fuck and still exploring sexuality. You kept that arrangement up for the next few months until the season ended and Nikolai left that fall for school. He felt like a dick for not saying goodbye to you. It's not in his nature to ghost. It just isn't. He thinks maybe he was still scared of what it all "meant" and how much he really liked you. Maybe this was the universe telling him to make things right with you and make things right for himself.

"Hey, stranger," you said with a lopsided grin. Fuck. Nikolai was so done for if you kept looking at him like that.

"Hey yourself." And Nikolai couldn't help himself when he reached out to you to pull you in a tight embrace. Lucky him, you didn’t push him away and call him a fucking asshole; he thought he would have deserved that. You buried your face into his neck and the hot little puffs of air were doing way more to him than they should. You parted just enough to get a good look at each other.

"You look good," you said with a dark edge to your voice, bottom lip trapped between your teeth. He knew very well what he looked like that night, but you seemed to mean the compliment.

"You look better," he replied earnestly, because it was true. It shouldn't have been this easy to fall right back into things. But it was always different with you. Sometimes, he still thought you were the only one that really understood him without him having to say a word.

"Nikolai Lantsov, you always were a little flirt," you laughed. Your eyes crinkled at the corner and Nikolai thought to himself how beautiful you are when you’re playful. You’re always beautiful. He wanted nothing more than to whisk you away and have you alone. This time, he wouldn’t fuck it up. He wouldn’t let you go. You must have noticed his brain going into overdrive because you say "What's going on up there? What ya thinking?" You pushed a rogue lock of golden hair away from his face.

"Honestly?"

"Honestly."

"I'm thinking about how much I wish we weren't at a frat party right now. I'm thinking about how I want to be selfish and have you all to myself," Nikolai said low so only you could hear. You laughed a little to yourself and looked at him with sparkling eyes.

"I'm not stopping you," you drawled. Fuck. Fuck, ok. This was really happening.

"Let me tell the guys we're leaving and then do you maybe want to get some food?" Nikolai asked hopefully. You just nodded coyly with a small smirk.

"I'll meet you out front." You squeezed his hand once and started pushing your way through the sea of bodies.

Nikolai ran his hands through his hair and took a deep breath before nearly running down to the basement, eager to say goodbye and make his way back to you. Genya, Aleks, Alina, and William were playing each other, a beer pong table stretching between their pairs.

"Where's your old friend?" Genya asked with a shit eating grin.

"We're um. We're actually gonna head out. So, I guess I'll—" but he was immediately cut off by Aleks.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Nik, are you leaving with a girl?" he teased.

"Yes. I am." Nikolai looked at him defiantly.

"How do you guys know each other anyways?" Bill asked before launching a shot.

"Just from growing up. High school or whatever," Nikolai mumbled.

"Cmon..." Genya begged.

"Wouldn’t you love to know," he said, voice laced with snark. "I just came down here to say we're fucking leaving!"

"Well then you better not keep your girl waiting," Genya said with a silent kiss in his direction. Nikolai just flipped her off and took his leave.

When he got outside, you were waiting with your hands in your pockets at the bottom of the porch steps. He smiled wide at you and offered a hand, which you seemed happy to take.

"So, are they gonna give me a bunch of shit next time I see them?" you asked as you walked hand in hand to the little strip of 24 hour restaurants on the outskirts of campus.

"Probably. Nothing you can't handle," Nikolai winked. You laughed then a little giggle. It's such a familiar sound and just like that, Nikolai was transported back to the ice rink and you giggling between kisses behind the snack bar.

You made it to one of his favorite delis in town and he offers to buy you a sandwich, which of course you tried to refuse his offer. Nikolai simply won't hear it. He had 5 years of douche baggery to make up for and insisted. You finally conceded and thanked him with the sweetest smile Nikolai had ever seen. You found a table in the corner, away from the door and prying eyes.

"So, how'd you meet Genya?" Nikolai asked.

"We have a writing class together. And we got to talking and became friends. I needed to find a new place cause my old roommate had to drop out and move home. I couldn't afford the place on my own. And I mean, you know how Genya is," you laughed, "I told her all about it one day in class and she offered me a room at her place without batting an eye."

"That does sound like Genya," Nikolai nodded.

"I've only been there like, two hours. But it's been good so far. Genya's been super cool," you said with a smile.

"I can't believe that we've been at the same school this whole time and it's taken this long to find each other," Nikolai said, mostly to himself, but you heard him and reached across the table to grab one of his hands.

"But we did find each other eventually, yeah?" You ran your thumb over his knuckle.

"Yeah," he said, suddenly bashful. Nikolai was seldom flustered. He had nerves of steel and had confidence to spare on his worst days. But you. You cut through him, all the way down to the core, and that made him nervous.

"So," you started, "Tell me about everything Nikolai Lantsov. Surely you've been up to something the last few years."

"Not much interesting to tell," he shrugged. "Been studying history. Writing music here and there to keep myself occupied."

"Girlfriend?"

"Who wants to know?" he asked with an arched eyebrow.

"Shut up," you mumbled into your soda. He doesn't miss the blush that's spreading over your cheeks.

"No. No girlfriend." he paused, considering how honest to be. But fuck it, he owed you candor. "I actually broke up with a girl a little over a month ago." You looked back up at him then, your eyes searching presumably for whether or not Nikolai was still torn up about it. "She wasn’t...she wasn’t right for mw and I guess I was just done. I feel like I should still be sad about it or whatever, but I'm not. I don't miss her. The wallowing and self reflection has been great writing fodder though," he said with a laugh.

"I'm sorry, Nik. You don't deserve that."

"Don't I?" Nikolai looked at you and suddenly felt torn open. "I...I'll never forgive myself for what I did to you." You bit down on your lip and looked out the window. "I regretted leaving you, god, and like a fucking asshole. I regretted leaving you so much. I know saying I'm sorry isn't even close to enough. But god, I'm so fucking sorry." He knew there were tears threatening to fall from his eyes, but he swallowed them down best he could.

"I'm not going to act like it didn't hurt me. Because it really, really did. But I accept your apology, Nik. You know I could never stay mad at you." You paused for a minute before looking at Nikolai with a tiny fire in your eyes. "You know, I'm pretty sure I was in love with you back then."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I don’t think I ever stopped loving you," He said confidently. Your jaw dropped just for a moment before you're giving him that sexy grin that apparently still drives him absolutely crazy.

"Still?” Nikolai just smirked. "What if you don't know me anymore?" you asked and sucked at the straw in your soda.

"I'd like to." There's a shift in the air between you. Nikolai was sure you could both feel it. It was suddenly too warm in the restaurant and there's too much table separating you. He decided to take his chance. “How do you feel about going back to my place?”

You suddenly seemed very interested in your nail beds, picking anxiously at the skin. “You didn’t ask me if I was seeing anyone.”

Nikolai stalled. He didn’t. You asked about his relationship status and he was so absorbed with letting you know that he was, in fact, single, that he didn’t bother to ask if you were even available. Hadn't you been flirting all night? He'd certainly been flirting. But like you said, maybe he didn't know you anymore. Maybe this was just how you were these days. “Are you...are you seeing someone?”

“Yeah,” you sighed. Maybe it was his own wishful thinking, him hearing the resignation in your voice. Not that he wanted you to be unhappy. No, you deserved the world and he wanted nothing more than for you to have the sun and the moon and the stars. But, maybe there was still a chance for him yet. “His name is Matt. We’ve been together for like, a year or so.”

“Matt.” He let the name burn his tongue. “You love him?”

“Nik…” you warned.

“Just a question.”

“It’s more complicated than that.”

“Just my two cents here,” Nikolai started, leaning back into the booth, “But you deserve to be with someone you can gush about. Someone who when you get asked if you love them, you don’t think twice and say ‘they’re the love of my life!’”

“And you don’t think that’s him?” you said, huffing. “You think that’s you?”

“There’s a chance,” he smirked. “All that aside, I’m very glad fate has brought us together again.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you laughed. “I missed you too.” You looked at your phone quickly. “Shit, I should get going. I have a shift at 9 tomorrow.”

“Let me walk you home,” Nikolai insisted, standing from the booth and helping you into your jacket.

“Always such a gentleman,” you smiled, tapping him gently on the nose before walking ahead of him.

The walk to your and Genya’s place felt too short. Nikolai had made this trek, both intoxicated and sober, and it always seemed much longer. But now he was at your front door, hands shoved in his pockets as he shifted his weight from foot to foot. “If you don’t want to hang out again, I understand, but I need you to tell me now if you think it’s a bad idea,” he rushed out.

“Of course I want to see you again,” you said, rolling your eyes. “So dramatic. We can still be friends, right?”

“We can be best friends,” he smiled.

“I’m glad I ran into you tonight.”

“Likewise.”

You were both clearly just trying to prolong the evening at this point. Nikolai took it upon himself to put you both out of your misery and pulled you into his arms again. You gripped his torso tightly, melting your body against his. He held you close, both strong arms wrapped around your shoulder while he tucked your head under his chin. After a moment, he pulled back enough to leave a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Get some sleep,” he whispered, his breathing a little hard.

“Ok,” you croaked, nodding. Nikolai stepped out of your space then, squeezing your hand one last time before walking back out to the sidewalk, waiting and watching to make sure you got inside safely.

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #prince nikolai #shadow and bone #grishaverse #nikolai lantsov fanfic #shadow and bone fanfic #nikolai lantsov au #shadow and bone au #grishaverse au #ootw #masterlist

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sunflowers-n-rocknroll · 3 years

Text

The One With Dean’s New Girlfriend

Pairing: Dean x reader

Warnings: angst, unrequited love, fluff

Word Count: 2, 528

A/N: This was written for @smol-and-grumpy SuperFriends Title Challenge. I chose title number 31, The One With xxx’s New Girlfriend. ;) And the beautiful divider was made by @firefly-graphics.

“Morning Y/N,” you turned at the sound of your name, your neighbor stepping out of his apartment.

“Morning Dean. Heading out?”

“Yup, got some errands to run. You?”

“Work.”

“Hey what are you doing this weekend?” he asked as you stepped onto the elevator.

“Uh not much. Grading, catching up on some laundry.”

“Sam’s having a get together at his house Saturday. It’s been a while since we’ve done that with the other guys and we were wondering if you would be able to join us.”

“Uh yeah of course. It’s been a while since everyone’s been together,” you smiled up at him and when it felt too long you looked away. Dammit. You hadn’t been too obvious, had you?

You had had a crush on Dean Winchester since you first moved in. At first, you tried to ignore those feelings. Telling yourself he was just a handsome guy. A very handsome guy. However, as you got to know him and you started to become friends those feelings became stronger. A simple crush had developed into something more complicated but there was nothing you could do. Dean had never shown any indication he felt something more for you than a simple friendship. Despite your simple flirting at times you didn’t want things to get awkward between you two.

“Alright well, I’ll let Sam know you’re coming over,” he said as you stepped out of the elevator. “Oh, and it’s at two. Later Y/L/N.”

“Later Winchester.”

The weekend couldn’t come fast enough. The school days seemed slower, but teaching managed to distract you for a while. Saturday morning you managed to finish some very needed chores. When one rolled around you started to overthink things. What were you going to wear? This was a simple get-together with the guys so some jeans and a simple t-shirt right?

But you also couldn’t stop thinking that Dean would be there. Your feelings didn’t seem to be going anywhere and maybe you should do something about them. Or maybe not.

Grabbing a pillow you screamed into it and you would’ve kept going if your phone hadn’t rung.

“Heya Sammy.”

“Hey Y/N. Dean said you were coming over?”

“Oh yeah, I was actually on my way over there.”

“Cool. Uhh…”

“Something wrong Sam?” you could hear that tone in his voice. There was something going on, something he wasn’t telling you.

“No uh. No. Nothing.”

“Right. Well, I’ll be over in a couple of minutes,” deciding to go for some shorts and a cute tee you put on your sneakers before going to the kitchen and picking up the pies you had made.

Sam’s call had left you unsettled, but you couldn’t put your finger on what could possibly be wrong. Aside from your worries, you were just glad to be able to see your friends again. Walking in through the backyard you saw everyone was already here. Castiel, Benny, Garth, Kevin, and even Jo and Meg were here. You saw Kevin, Garth, Benny, and Jo on the porch laughing at something Garth had said. Meg and Cas were sitting down by the pool and you had to smile.

Those two had been walking around each other neither confessing their feelings. Everyone else was probably oblivious to what was going on between those two, but you had known both of them well to know that their snarky comments towards each other were to try and mask their true feelings.

You saw Sam walking over towards you and laughed as he wrapped you in a hug.

“Long time no see stranger,” you said laughing.

“We were starting to really miss you around here,” he said as he let you go.

“Well, I hope these pies make up for it.”

“Oh, you are awesome.”

“I know,” you said in a nonchalant shrug.

“Alright come on. Everyone wants to say hi.”

Been around everyone reminded you how much you had missed them. It had been weeks since you had come together. Getting back to work had kept you all busy, but everyone acted as if no time had passed. As if it was barely yesterday that you had all been together.

“Y/N!” Jo had stood up from her chair and was making her way over to you as you stepped onto the porch. “It is so good to see you again.”

“It’s good to see everyone. How’ve you been?”

“Busy. The new bar is up and running, but work is never done.”

“No, it is not. By the way, how are you and Benny doing?” you looked around noticing Benny had gone inside, but you still kept your voice low. Jo was never one to talk about her private life to just anyone. The only reason you figured she told you stuff was because she had known you the longest and you weren’t one to discuss your private life either.

Jo tried to look away but it did nothing to conceal the faint blush rising to her cheeks. “We’ve uh, we’ve been doing really good so far.”

“The other guys know?”

“Yeah. We asked they didn’t make a big deal out of it.”

“Well, I can tell he makes you act like a teenage girl with her first crush so he must be good.”

“Oh, he’s really good.”

“We need a girl’s night. I want all the details.”

“Next Saturday?”

“You’re on.”

You went over to the other guys, everyone seeming to be in good spirits Sam’s call almost forgotten. Not seeing him outside you went to go see if he was in the kitchen. You stopped as you stepped in through the back door. Dean. Dean was standing there with another woman. And they were kissing. She was all over him, but could you blame her? I mean look at the man. But did they really need to be going at it here? Ignoring the tight feeling in your chest you turned to leave. Oh god, you had been standing there for too long.

“Y/N.” Great. Turning around you saw Sam coming down the stairs. On one side you were grateful Sam had been the one to call your name, but on the other, you had been wishing to slip away unnoticed.

“Hey Sam I was uh-I came looking for you,” you were purposefully trying not to look at Dean. You didn’t care if it was noticeable or not. If you looked at him every emotion going through you would be plastered on your face. It would be so obvious.

You noticed Sam shooting a look at Dean, but you didn’t know what that was about. “Yeah sorry I had a work call.”

“Sam it’s the weekend,” you rolled your eyes.

“I know, I know. Let’s-”

“Hi, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Krystal. Dean’s girlfriend.”

Oh. You tried not to cringe at her frilly voice and ignored the way she looked you up and down.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N,” you gave her a tight smile. It wasn’t real, but what were you supposed to do? Dean had a girlfriend. Of course, that explained why he never made a move on you. He didn’t like you. You wanted to slap yourself. Why hadn’t you seen it coming?

“Hey, where’s-” Jo’s voice stopped mid-sentence and you could feel her behind you probably scrutinizing the scene in front of her. “There you are. Sam, there is a problem with your grill. Y/N, Meg was asking for you.”

She wrapped her arm around your shoulders Sam and her bickering about something as the three of you made your way outside. Sam said your name and you knew there was a question involved but your mind was still in that scene back there.

“Sorry what?” you saw him and Jo share a look, but you didn’t have it in you to question them about it.

“I asked if you wanted a beer,” you knew there was something else he wanted to say but you just said yeah and went to go talk with the others. The whole afternoon felt like you were in overdrive. You didn’t want to see Dean. Those times when your eyes did find him, he was there with her always by his side. Now you knew where Dean’s feelings were at, but yours were all over the place. The feelings that had been developing for him were strong and real, but now that he was with somebody else your feelings were scattered and you were left to pick them up.

For the next few weeks, you avoided him to prevent the pain from becoming intolerable. If he wasn’t even yours why did it hurt so much? Sam and Jo had tried calling you a few times, but you avoided the topic. What was the point of expressing your undying love for Dean now when he clearly didn’t feel the same way?

A knock on your door pulled you away from your thoughts and you went to open it. “Sam, hey what are you doing here?” you asked.

“Well,” he shrugged, “since you didn’t want to meet for lunch yesterday and you didn’t pick up the phone the day before that and you have also avoided Jo I decided to pay a visit,” he smiled. That charming smile of his that you knew you couldn’t resist. And he also knew.

“Fine. You can come in.”

He stepped into your apartment making his way to your kitchen. He took a seat in one of your stools at the counter as you moved around your kitchen trying to figure out what to cook for dinner. And also avoiding him.

“So what’s going on?” Right to the point. Of course, you knew you couldn’t avoid him forever, but you had also hoped not to have this conversation.

“What do you mean? I’ve just been busy with school.”

“Right. And this behavior has nothing to do with Dean’s new girlfriend,” welp there it was. Sam was smart, but you had hoped your attitude had come out as indifferent and not that you were hurt Dean was seeing someone else.

“Hey, I have nothing against your brother seeing someone,” you said.

“I think you do,” he just wouldn’t drop it.

You heaved a sigh. “Sam-”

“Y/N. I know you have feelings for Dean. Hell everyone knows. Except maybe his dumbass,” you snorted a laugh. “But he’s completely clueless and I know that you’re feelings towards him are true so maybe you should talk with him.”

“Sam I’m not going to come in between him and his girlfriend. If he hasn’t made a move he’s clearly not interested,” you turned rummaging through your fridge,

“Maybe you should ask him,” you nearly dropped what you were holding upon hearing Dean’s voice.

You turned glaring at Sam first. He held his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t know you were stopping by.”

“The door was open.”

“Right,” you cleared your throat. Oh god, things were going to be awkward.

“Anyway I should go,” said Sam. Trying to make a run from the tension in the room. Standing up he clapped his brother in the back before giving you an encouraging smile which you did not find encouraging at all.

“So-” you began.

“Listen I didn’t know you felt that way about me,” you could hear your heart breaking right there and then. You knew what his next words were going to be and you couldn’t bear to hear them.

“It doesn’t matter,” you rushed to say. “It was just a simple crush and I’m glad you found someone. You guys are good together.”

He nodded. “You’re a great person and you deserve someone good.”

You wished he hadn’t said that. It hurt more than seeing him with somebody else. You wanted to scream into the void. Unrequited love was a bitch.

The next few weeks were spent avoiding Dean at any cost. You had just wanted to erase that whole encounter in your apartment. With winter break around the corner, you were so excited to have found an apartment not far from the school you worked. Thankfully packing took your mind off of Dean. At first you had a tough debate with yourself about whether moving was the best option. Was it because of Dean? Yes. Was this being too dramatic? Also yes but you couldn’t live right in front of the man you loved knowing he didn’t love you back. But the bigger reason was for yourself. You needed a change.

Deciding to take a break from packing you decided to order some takeout and put on a movie. Thirty minutes later you went to answer the knock at your door. You were met with familiar green eyes when you opened the door, your food in his hands and you couldn’t help but notice that his hair was a little damp and so was his jacket. He had probably been outside.

You had no idea what to say. He was there, but you had no words.

“What are you - uh - what are you doing here?” you managed to ask.

“Brought your takeout,” he said holding the bag up.

“Right. Come in,” it was awkward and you couldn’t stand it anymore, thus one of the reasons you were moving.

“You’re moving?” something in his voice made you look up at him, his green eyes scanning your apartment full of moving boxes.

“Oh...yeah. I found an apartment closer to school. Makes things simpler,” he set down the food at your counter but didn’t move.

“This is because of what happened isn’t it?” he wasn’t looking at you, he was visibly shaking. From the cold, you thought.

“Here. You should take off your wet clothes.”

“No, no Y/N I- I need to talk to you. I’m probably too late, but I wanted to apologize.”

“Dean for what?”

“For hurting you.”

“Dean-”

“No, listen. I lied ok. I lied to you and I lied to myself. That day after I heard you and Sam I couldn’t stop thinking about you. And I realized that maybe your feelings weren’t one-sided.”

Your heart was beating a mile a minute. Was this real? Never in your wildest dreams would Dean be confessing his love for you. Ok, maybe you had dreamed about it.

His eyes still wouldn’t meet you. His hands were resting at his sides and when you went over to take hold of one you could feel him shaking. He didn’t pull away, but his eyes finally found your face.

“Let’s get you out of these wet clothes first,” you went to move when his hands were suddenly cradling your face and his lips were on yours. His nose was cold and so were his cheeks, but his lips were soft and warm. Those lips that you had dreamed of kissing were on yours now.

He pulled away, his lips brushing against your when he spoke. “Please don’t say it’s too late.”

“I can never stop loving you,” he kissed you again and you could feel the smile on his lips.

“Be my new girlfriend?” he asked when he pulled away again.

You laughed. “Yes.”

#superfriendstitlechallenge #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #spn fic

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hetalia-has-a-secretary · 3 years

Note

allies + eje human au headcanons

I had to look up what eje meant, which was Axis in Spanish 🌮 (there's no sombrero emoji, and I'm mad about it). This is mostly a college Human AU, but there's still some future stuff in there. Enjoy the longest list of Headcannons in one post lol

Human AU Hetalia!

Allies:

America:

Has rich parents, but doesn't tell anyone, and somehow his big house that everyone parties at doesn't give it away.

The only person who knows is Japan, and that's specifically because Japan's dad works for America's dad.

Is a college student, hoping to go for some kind of music degree.

A first year.

Black T-shirt and jeans. Has a plaid button up for everyday of the month, usually has it tied around his hips.

Has like, one basic tux and refuses to wear anything but converse or airwalkers.

Space nerd #1, except he's more into what's beyond our boundaries, and loves the constellations.

One of the most popular kids, and no matter how hard you try he's not easy to hate.

Gives off dumb college kid energy even though he's one of the A+ students.

His glasses are for show. It was meant to be a rebellious thing since Canada use to get bullied about his own glasses, now it's just an esthetic.

Skate boards and plays the acoustic guitar in his free time.

Jeans are usually missing the knee section.

Once set off firecrackers in a metal trash can as a school prank.

England:

Last year of college, majoring in history after failing his cooking classes.

Graphic tee central. We are unsure how many he has but he's up to 43 different shirts worn on campus.

Usually has his earbuds in, listening to punk rock.

Has an ungodly amount of bracelets. His favorite one is a black snap bracelet with little pirate skulls.

Was practically raised by his older brothers.

Lives alone, but is secretly an amazing writer.

Has a Tumblr blog he writes spooky stuff on.

Top of his class, but can be a dummy if he's put on the spot.

France:

No one is sure how he's been allowed to take nothing but art classes. No English, or science, just art.

Is also a transfer student, he's probably the second richest thanks to daddy.

Is the school stud, despite not sleeping with a single soul, and is actually extremely nervous about dating, and is just more comfortable with playful flirting.

He wants to be a fashion designer, or Model. Mostly a Designer.

Loose shirts and tight pants.

Has a weird obsession with belt sashes.

Plays violin like a god, and is a senior.

China:

Another senior in college.

Had the unfortunate event of being in the same cooking class as England before Arthur decided to switch degrees.

Still hangs out with him and Japan.

One of the few who is taking advanced classes, and is literally everyone's tutor.

Going for a Degree in Cooking. Wants to be a head chef.

His parents are over seas, but he promised to get them to America as soon as he can.

He wears a lot of colorful shirts that is always tucked into his pants.

Most of which look like bowling shirts, but he likes to add little Chinese patches to them. Has a signature jean jacket that is overwhelmed with patches.

Has a panda beenie baby keychain, so everyone knows exactly who it belongs to when he losses his keys.

Very quick to panic, and hates to admit he's wrong.

Russia:

Third and final transfer student, along with Japan, and France.

Poor confused child is trying so hard.

He's kind of shy, and is fully aware his social akwardness creeps everyone out.

Almost cried the day America and Prussia adopted him into the cool kid circle.

His broken english is probably the biggest turn off for the people at school. It's why no one really talks to him, mostly because they can't figure out what he's saying most of the time.

Biggest sweetheart though, and is painfully smart, but do to the english thing he's stuck in the average classes, but China comes swooping in and his english gets almost fluent by his third year.

He doesn't own a single thing tech, minus a flip phone, but somehow knows all the hot keys on the computer to every program, and it's only because he's lazy about it and it's the funniest thing.

Space nerd #2 but knows more about the planets and can name every single moon, and knows the history of space discoveries by heart.

Secretly a hopeless romantic, and doesn't realize he reads England's blog.

Is pretty much a closet goth, but likes bright colors too much to be seen in all black.

Knows way to much about torture devices and learned very quickly that gets you out casted in a school setting.

Isn't upset that he doesn't have many friends, but somehow attracts all the little kids from the grade school.

He likes his northface sweater, and loose pants. But his shirts are pretty colorful, and he likes collecting shoelaces.

He spends a lot of time in the woodwork shop, creating amazing figures and such.

Canada:

I can feel the dissapointed stares of Matt not being a photographer. Welp, guess he also gets a degree in art then.

Second year, Because he skipped one year in college.

Clothing style is long sleeves and vests.

He likes feeling fancy, and owns an endless amount of beanies.

One of the few people who talks to Russia.

His locker has a snot ton of polar bear stickers that everyone stuck to it, and he loves it.

Is baby but can kick butt in the wrestling club after school.

Has a tiny white Pomeranian that he rescued from it's mother who wouldn't take care of it, probably because the puppy was the runt of the litter.

Has a Harley Davidson and it's been painted black with the aurora on it, making everyone think it was his non-existent girlfriend's or something. Now it's a running joke.

Axis:

Germany:

He's not a jock, but he's friends with them.

Military Dad.

Is usually found hanging out in the gymnasium on breaks. It's quiet and no one is going to bother him. Usually.

Senior, and so ready to get the heck out of college.

Ladies love him, but he really hates the attention, like please help him.

Style wise he's pretty basic, but really loves his camo print.

Has owned countless doggos, and only attracted so many girls the day he walked to school with a fluffy poodle that France Hijacked for the day.

Doesn't ever go to dances after the first one and everyone tried to get him drunk, to no avail.

Had out drank some of the dumber students to shut them up.

Can be mean if you persistently pester him for dumb stuff, especially if he's already said no.

He's into construction and is working on a degree in Construction Management.

Japan:

Exchange student number 3

Degree in technology is what he desires.

Style = Geek, but like a stylish geek.

Him and Canada are in photography class together.

Japan is also part of the cool kids, but only when they're about to do some dumb stunt, and need a camera man.

Doesn't mind, loves watching them make fools of themselves.

Has a rebellious streak, and tends to be a complete sass.

As soon as something seems to go bad, he gone. He's heading towards the door. Been in detention once, and that was it.

Why does everyone go to him for advice when china is literally down the hall?

Rich kid #3 and his parents are traditional and are having a crisis over their son's rebellious attitude.

Italy:

Is a first year, and is oddly enough, going for a degree in history.

Really likes antiques and old artsy stuff.

Has a few shared classes with France, and they pretty much own those classes.

Rivals America's charisma, but isn't as popular due to:

Being seen around France, and not doing dumb and entertaining crap like america.

Gets picked on a lot Because he doesn't understand you can't be nice to the Jock's girlfriend without everyone thinking your flirting, even though you just needed directions on your first day of school.

Germany is now his bodyguard and he was kind of like "???" But they get closer the longer they hangout.

Fancy shirt man, like hand me downs from his Italian father. So they're really nice, and a lot of eye melting patterns.

Gets attached to people easily, and is sensitive when he gets taken advantage of during assignments, but toughs through it because he has too.

Has two cats literally named Mona, and Lisa.

Has cried at least once at school because he's a soft guy, but he gets a thicker shell the older he gets and learns to just laugh off other people's stupidity.

Romano:

Protective older brother gooooo

Second year in school, and his first year made him want to eat brinks.

Doesn't know what degree he wants, but settled for a degree in cooking.

Shares his brother's shirts practically and it confuses everyone Because, didn't Feliciano wear that shirt last week?

Immediately thinks people don't know washing machines exist Because of this, so his sass factor is high up there.

Doesn't really have friends, and also does not care. He's a bit of a lone wolf and needed something to do.

The amount of not caring attitude contrasts his high grades and his teachers are painfully confused by it.

Will jokingly tell people to fight him at McDonald's, and almost fought someone but literally laughed, and suggested they got something to eat instead.

He's somehow, in a bizarre and unwanted sense, everyone's brother which is just...

No one understands him, but they like him, and he doesn't know why and it kind of bugs him.

He's usually in the front of the school daydreaming about, god only knows what...

Is the epitomy of the "she doesn't even go here" joke from mean girls, except he does go to that school.

Why did he need a degree? Oh yeah, Because work places don't care what kind of paper, you just need a paper.

Prussia:

Rival friendship with america, and Russia has had to step in to break up petty fights.

He's not sure why he's part of the popular kids since he's so fricken chaotic and obnoxious. Or so he thinks.

Genuinely a sweet guy in his last year, desperately wanting a degree in mathematics. Like, no one understands why mathematics until he starts pulling card tricks from his pocket that deals with it, and blows everyone's mind.

He is also head of the newspaper club.

Has the style of a teenage band member and will not apologize for it.

Has hijacked the schools speaker system to blast evanescence, which gave a huge boost to his friendship with Russia, since the big fellow shares Prussia's taste in music.

Can eat a whole ghost pepper without batting an eyelash, and this is only Headcannon and a worthy note because he became sick the day after and the whole school had "in loving memory of Gilbert's stomach" posters all over the place.

Teacher's are very much done with his harmless antics. They're noticably stupid pranks, but only to the point it's annoying.

Like he managed to make all the teacher's computer backgrounds as Brad Pitt wearing a sombrero. There's no joke, and no punchline. It's just a poorly Photoshopped sombrero?

Races his brother to school every morning, and afternoon. Cops have stopped them at least twice due to other bystanders getting freaked out.

Him and Romano don't mix well, but try to leave each other alone.

#hetalia american #hetalia england #hetalia france #hetalia china #hetalia russia #hetalia canada #hetalia germany #hetalia italy #hetalia japan #hetalia romano #hetalia prussia #hetalia #hws #hetalia world stars #aph #human au

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aquietwritingcorner · 3 years

Text

Embers of Revelation

Author: RealityBreakGirl/aquietlearningcorner Word Count: 10235 Rating: T Prompt: FMA Big Bang 2021 Warnings: Child abuse/neglect Characters: Riza Hawkeye, Roy Mustang, Jean Havoc, Heymans Breda, Vato Falman, Kain Fuery, Black Hayate Pairing: Royai Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Family Chapter: 2 of 7 Summary: Tasked by Fuhrer Grumman to investigate a suspected alchemic incident, General Mustang’s team finds themselves stranded in Hawkeye’s hometown. Needing a place to stay, they find themselves taking shelter in her childhood home. However, her past can’t stay buried there, and as revelations come to light, they also bring embers of danger with them. Sequel to Embers in a Wounded Heart AO3 || ff.net

________________________________

Chapter 1

Rain, Jean Havoc decided, was like pretty much everything else in life. It was fine once in a while, but too much of it was a problem. There had definitely been too much rain lately. He sat in the office, a cigarette in his mouth as he looked out the windows at the ever-present downpour. The view of the city was still rain-obscured, and there was no extra light coming in from the windows, unless you counted the flashes of lightning that happened every so often. Havoc didn’t, and he didn’t think anyone else did either.

Not that they had talked about it. The weather being this miserable had left almost everyone with a pent-up energy and short tempers. They all knew it and tried not to snap at each other, but it was hard to be either cooped up all day, or out in the rain all day. Even Hayate was getting restless.

Speaking of, the little pooch was currently sitting in Fuery’s lap, although he had long ago gotten too big for that sort of thing, and Hawkeye had—mostly—trained him out of it. The storms seemed to have left the typically happy dog subdued, wanting to be close to people, and Havoc wondered if it had to do with how he had been left out in a storm before Fuery had found him. It would make sense. It would also explain why he looked calmer with Fuery, as Fuery was the one who had rescued him.

But the presence of the dog also seemed to be helping Fuery too. It hadn’t escaped Havoc’s notice how the young man’s mostly good-natured grumbling about the rain affecting the communication lines had turned into something stiffer and more tense as the storms had moved in. Multiple cups of coffee had made their appearance on the young man’s desk once more, and he had been a bit more withdrawn. The pup seemed to help Fuery, though, and for that Havoc was glad.

Fuery wasn’t the only one being affected by the rain, and Havoc stretched out his back a bit as he sat there, taking the time to observe the others in the room. Falman was shifting what appeared to be a weather map around, and as he stretched, Havoc craned his neck to get a better view of what was on the other man’s desk. It seemed to be full of stacks of weather reports, including ones from other parts of the country. Falman was staring intently at the map he had and making notes on a notepad. It didn’t seem that interesting to Havoc, but Falman seemed focused on it. He looked at a stack of papers and frowned deeply, and Havoc caught sight of them enough to realize that he was looking at reports for the North. Havoc had to wonder—was this a project for the general, or did it have a more personal flavor to it? It might explain why Falman had looked so serious the longer this rain went on.

Havoc twisted the other way, just as Breda let out a grunt of annoyance. The red-headed man was scowling at what appeared to be a small amount of mayonnaise that had fallen from his sandwich, just narrowly missing the reports that were on his desk. Scowling, Breda reached for a napkin, although it didn’t escape his notice the way that Breda was favoring the elbow he broke in Pendleton. It seemed the weather was affecting it, which explained some of Breda’s irritation lately.

Havoc understood that well. He leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms. His legs were aching from the constant rainfall, along with his back, and he wished he could get outside and run, or even just get outside and smoke. Anything that wouldn’t leave him cooped up and soggy. He released his stretch, and reached in a drawer, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it up.

Breda glanced over at him, looking up from where he was cleaning up the mayonnaise. “I thought you were quitting those things,” he said.

“Tryin’,” Havoc drawled back. “But right now, they’re helping.”

Breda looked at him a moment, then snorted. “Go to the gym if you’re that restless,” he said, and turned back to his sandwich and his work.

“Nah,” Havoc said. “Its not the same. Doesn’t really help.”

“When you’re addicted again and Catalina tells you to shove off because you smell like an ashtray, don’t come crying to me then,” Breda said.

“Aw, didn’t know you cared,” he said back.

“I don’t,” Breda replied brusquely, and turned his back on Havoc.

Havoc grinned, glad to know that no matter the weather, he could count on his best friend’s surly attitude to brighten a room. Before he could say anything snarky back, the doors to the office opened, delivering a very soggy Hawkeye and Mustang, not that there was anything that wasn’t soggy lately. Neither of them looked happy, though, and Havoc found himself hoping it was because of the rain, and not because whatever news they had gotten.

As they shed their coats, though, Havoc caught sight of a plain manilla envelop in their hands and mentally groaned. Something told him that wasn’t pleasant news. Welp, only one way to find out.

“Hey Boss, Hawkeye,” he greeted them. “What’d Grumman want?”

“Fuhrer Grumman,” Riza corrected with a frown towards him. He let it roll right off him.

“Grumman wants us to go investigate another enclave,” Mustang said, either ignoring or exempt from Hawkeye’s scolding on how to refer to people.

“Again?” Breda said, turning around to face them. “Why us? Half of these turn out to be nothing, and most of the other half turn out to be so inept that they pretty much confess things on the spot.”

“Orders are orders,” Mustang said, although they could all hear the weariness in his voice. He wanted to be finished with jobs like this as well. “He wants the whole team on this one. It has the potential to be bigger than we realize. We’ll need to leave tomorrow.” He nodded his head towards Hawkeye. “Hawkeye will make the arrangements. We’ll travel by train. When she has that all worked out, she’ll let you know what time to be at the station.”

There was a mumbled agreement, and Mustang went off towards his office, envelope in hand. Hawkeye, on the other hand, went around pushing all the curtains open and turning on the lamps. Havoc could see Fuery out of the corner on his eye, trying to surreptitiously get Hayate down without her noticing.

“So, Hawkeye, where are we going?” Havoc asked her, watching as she came back to her desk. There was a tightness to her shoulders again, and it made Havoc frown. Why was she so tense?

“Womiob,” she said.

“Womiob?” Havoc said, the name ringing a bell in his head.

She nodded, but she didn’t say anything else as she was already picking up the phone and dialing. “Yes, hello. I need six tickets to Womiob, and I need to leave tomorrow. Yes, I know that your volume of traffic is up, however if you could—yes. Yes. Yes, I understand. A transfer at East City is acceptable. Yes. Yes, I’ll hold.”

Hawkeye glanced at the team, and frowned at Fuery pointedly, who at least had the grace to look a little sheepish, as Hayate was still in his lap. Before she could say or do anything, though, her attention snapped back to the phone.

“Yes, I’m still here. Yes. Alright, thank you. Someone from General Mustang’s command will be there to pick them up in the morning. Yes, I understand. Thank you.” She hung up the phone and took a moment to make a few notes on her notepad. Everyone waited silently. After a moment, she straightened up. “Alright, men,” she said. “The train leaves at 7:30 sharp. We need to be there at least by 7:00. The woman said that the trains have been packed lately, so it’s best to get there early to get a seat.”

“Mustang’s not going to like that,” Breda grunted out.

Hawkeye smiled. “You just leave Mustang to me. He’ll be there on time. Pack for a week or longer and pack a lunch. It’s going to be a long trip.”

There was a collective grumble at that, but it didn’t seem to discourage Hawkeye any. She just straightened her shoulders and, still tense, made her way back into Mustang’s office. They all watched until the door to Mustang’s office closed, and only then did they start speaking.

“…Think we’ll find anything this time?” Havoc asked.

“Who knows?” Breda said. “Half of me wants to find something to make this trip worth it.”

“Yeah…” Havoc looked out the window and trailed off. “I’m not looking forward to traveling in this weather.”

“Maybe it’ll be better at Womiob,” Fuery said, settling Hayate back in his lap.

Falman shook his head. “Not likely. Looking at the current weather patterns and the reports, I’d estimate that we’d experience at least just as much rain as we are here. In fact, looking at the current reports—”

“Yeah, yeah, we get it. It’s going to be wet, miserable and raining no matter where we go,” Breda interrupted.

Havoc sighed. “Well, guess we better make sure we’re ready.”

With a sigh, Fuery reached for the phone, placing a call down to records. Havoc could hear him apologizing to Sheska for breaking a movie date again, and he heard the others returning to their work. But Havoc’s attention was fixed more firmly on that door and the tension he had seen in Hawkeye.

It hadn’t been that long ago that he, Mustang, and Hawkeye had all taken a trip together. They had gone to Awrout, Hawkeye’s hometown, and to Hawkeye’s childhood home, for research. They had come back empty handed with that, and Havoc had carried the distinct impression that it might have been better that way. But Havoc had gained a greater understanding of both Mustang and Hawkeye, as well as some insights in their female captain’s early life.

This tension didn’t seem to be as heavy as that tension had been, but it was still heavier than the tension she typically had on one of these missions, and it left Havoc wondering.

“Hey, Falman. Lemme see one of those maps,” he said.

“Why?” Falman questioned as he passed it over.

“I wanna see where Womiob is.”

Falman passed one over to him, and Havoc looked it over. It was a little southeast of East City, near the border, and that explained why Havoc knew of it. Some of the supplies from the East had come through there to his family’s store. But that wasn’t what he was looking for now, and he traced the path they would take to get there. Sure enough, as he suspected, they would go through Awrout.

He handed the map back to Falman with a word of thanks, and then sat back, staring at the door again. That trip had brought up a lot of bad memories for Hawkeye, to the point of a vulnerability Havoc didn’t think he had ever seen out of her. Even though they would just be passing through, after that he was sure it would be uncomfortable for her.

Breda had taken the map from Falman and was now looking at the route himself. “…That’s why you wanted to see,” he said, and Havoc’s attention swiveled back to him. Breda’s eyes were fixed on Awrout as well. “You never did tell us what happened on that trip.”

That caught the attention of Falman and Fuery, who now also looked at the map, understanding and curiosity in their eyes when they saw Awrout.

“I told ya,” Havoc said, taking another drag on his cigarette, “It’s not my business ta tell. Hawk n’ Mustang will let you know if they want you to.”

“You did tell us that the captain’s father was the general’s alchemy teacher,” Fuery said.

“Yeah, and that’s all,” Havoc said, stressing it, “because that’s all I really know. You know how those two are. When they wanna keep a secret, no one knows about it.”

“It’s too bad it’s a rushed trip,” Falman said. “I would like to see the place the captain grew up.”

“It’s just a wide spot in the road, Falman,” Havoc said. “Now drop it. You know neither of them would be happy to hear us talking about Hawkeye behind her back like this.”

The others took the hint, and settled back down into their work, but Havoc couldn’t help but glance at the door, and remember the tension in Hawkeye’s shoulders. It should be fine, though, right? After all, they would just be passing through, and then all they would have to focus on was the mission.

The next day broke the same as all of the previous days—cloudy, raining, and miserable. Havoc personally felt that the early hour made it even worse. He had nothing against being up early—he had grown up getting up early—but he hadn’t been sleeping well due to his aching legs and back. It took him a bit of hobbling around to get his legs warmed up and ease the stiffness and pain out of them, which slowed him down. While he was well acquainted with doing various things from a seated position, the delay in moving meant that he had to rush out the door to make it to the train station in time. It was never a good idea to keep Hawkeye waiting when she had given you a clear time to be somewhere.

Wet and muddy from the walk, Havoc somehow managed to make it to the station on time. He grimaced at the muck on his boots, doing his best to scrape it off on the curb before he entered. The station was already packed, with dozens of other soggy travelers standing around in small, sleepy groups. He supposed that most people that had to travel were opting for the train as opposed to a car or wagon. It was less muddy, drier, and you could at least get up and walk around a little.

Still, in the crush of people, it took him a minute to spot his team. They weren’t the only military personal traveling by train—there were plenty of others there too. It took him a moment to spot his team, but once he did he wound his way through the crowd towards them, taking them in as he approached. Mustang had his expensive luggage again and was yawning, just like the last time they had traveled. Hawkeye was, to no surprise, looking positively bright-eyed and bushytailed, as his Pa would say, and had her sturdy carpetbag by her feet. Fuery was traveling like him, a rucksack slung over his shoulder, still looking a bit tired as he rubbed under his glasses. Breda was Breda, looking grouchy with his plain piece of luggage, but was, as usual, alert. Falman’s bag was odd, looking like something from up north, which it probably was, and the tall man was currently holding Hayate for Hawkeye, keeping the pup off of the muddy ground

Part of Havoc wondered how much longer it would be until Falman just went back up North and stayed there. It was obvious that he had become a Briggsman, and Havoc wouldn’t be the least bit surprised when he made the final move up that way.

“Finally,” Breda said as Havoc approached them, although there was an upturn to his lips that let Havoc know he was teasing him. “You just gotta be the last one here, huh?”

“Yeah, well, you try finding a taxi in this weather,” he shot back.

“Alright boys,” Hawkeye said, interrupting the banter. “Here are your tickets.” She started passing out tickets to them, along with a file folder. “You’re also getting copies of the reports that we’ll need to look over. This is confidential information, so let’s keep the chatter on it to a minimum until we’re in a more secure location—and please, try to keep it dry.”

Havoc was half sure he heard Breda mumble something that sounded like “good luck” at that, but if Hawkeye heard it, she ignored it.

“When we board, we need to do our best to find a place to sit together,” Mustang said. “It’s not going to be easy, but it’ll be for the best. Keep close. It’s clearly going to be a crowded train ride.”

“Is Hayate going to be alright on the trip?” Fuery asked, the sleep starting to leave his eyes.

Hawkeye smiled at him, concerns about the pup always softening her a bit. “He’ll be fine enough, I think. We’ll just have to keep an eye on him. If you can help me out with that, Sergeant, I’d appreciate it.”

“Of course, sir!” Fuery said.

“I’ll pitch in, too,” Havoc offered. “I’m sure I’ll be walking the train some—the pooch can come with me.”

“Thank you, Havoc, I appreciate it.”

Breda was eyeing the dog with a bit of distaste, but he wisely chose to not say anything. He still wasn’t fond of dogs, but he had nominally accepted Hayate as something that would be around and was occasionally useful, which was a big improvement from screaming in fear—not that Havoc was ever going to let him forget that. What good buddy would?

The rest of the time until boarding was spent watching each other’s stuff while they took turns for the bathroom, talking over the situation that they were heading into, and generally making small talk. They subtly moved closer to the train car as they did, hoping to get a good run at the seats.

Breda bumped his elbow. “Hey,” he said, in a lull in conversation, “You alright?”

He must have noticed the way that Havoc was shifting as he was standing there, having trouble standing still for a bit. “Yeah… it’s just going to be a bit rough. This weather has been messing with me. My legs and back have been aching a lot. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

Breda frowned. “I get that,” he said. “My elbow’s been aching for days. I know it’s not quite the same, but…”

“Nah, close enough,” Havoc said. “It’s just something I’ll have to deal with. I’ll take this over not being able to walk at all.”

Breda grunted, but Havoc could tell that he was keeping an extra eye on him.

Soon it was time to board the train, and they, along with almost everyone else, made a rush for it. It was a bit of pushing and jostling, and Havoc felt a bit sorry for the conductors, but they managed to get on board and snag some decent seats. They stowed their luggage and settled in for what looked to be a long and very crowded ride.

The poor weather did, though, help keep the crowds a bit subdued. The skies were still exceedingly dark, with the rain pouring in droves against the windows. Thunder crackled overhead and lightning flashed, and most people kept their conversation to a low murmur. The conductors came by and lit the lamps that were in the train cars. Groups sat together, cramped into seats, and kids played in the aisles, although quietly for the most part. The whole atmosphere had an odd feel to it that Havoc didn’t like, and it made him put off reading the folder that Hawkeye had given him. He didn’t want to add to the uneasy feeling that he already had.

The ride was long and, as he suspected, Havoc had trouble staying still. His legs ached for movement, and so he walked the train car, even walking the length of the train a couple of times. They passed through several small towns, although Havoc frowned when he realized that for some reason things were becoming familiar. It was only when he heard a conductor mention that they were coming up on Awrout that he realized why and headed back towards the team.

Passing between the cars was a bit more difficult this time, with the wind buffeting him and rain slicing into his uniform. He wondered if it was just the direction he was going, or if the weather was picking up. Ultimately, it didn’t matter. By the time he arrived back in the car he was more than a little wet. It wasn’t as important to him, though, as how Hawkeye was feeling. She had switched seats by this time—although to be fair they all had, several times—and was now sitting with Mustang between her and the window. She seemed tense, although she was trying not to appear tense. To her team, though, who knew her so well, it was obvious. Mustang angling towards her was a dead giveaway. Their subtilty was a little less subtle then normal, and the team took notice.

“You’re not sitting next to me like that,” Breda said, eyeing Havoc. “What did you do, stand on the platforms between cars?”

“Yeah. Thought I’d bring Falman another weather report and a sampling,” he replied, although he didn’t try to sit down.

Mustang frowned. “Is it getting worse out there?” he asked.

“I think so, sir,” Havoc said. “Or at least, it seemed to be. Coulda just been how we were traveling.”

Falman’s brow creased. “I hope that it isn’t going to cause any problems,” Falman said. “There have been reports of the amount of rain causing problems with infrastructure.”

Mustang’s frown increased, but he didn’t say anything as a conductor came by. “We’re going to be pulling into Awrout in a few moments. Please stay seated if you are not disembarking here.”

Breda looked out the window, although nothing but trees could be seen. “Doesn’t look like there’s much here to disembark for.”

“There’s not,” Hawkeye said, a bit harsh, and the other men exchanged a look. Havoc knew what was up, but the other men seemed concerned or curious as to her tone. None of them pressed it though, knowing how private Hawkeye was.

It was a few minutes later when the train started to slow, although something about it felt a bit off. They had all traveled on trains enough to feel that, and it seemed that they weren’t the only ones, as several other adults around seem tense up a bit as well. Still, they pulled into the station with no problems as far as the train went. Hawkeye, though, was very stiff and still, Mustang very atuned to her, and the rest of the team seeming a bit unsure about the whole thing. Havoc eyed them carefully, trying to get a good read on the situation as they sat in the train and waited to leave.

And waited.

They waited far passed an acceptable time to wait, even if the train needed water. Hawkeye was growing more and more tense as they sat there, and Mustang looked as if he was about to get up to go demand some information. Havoc was just about to volunteer to do it himself, just to make sure Mustang didn’t throw his weight around too much, when a conductor, drenched in rain, entered the car.

“Ladies and gentlemen, if I may have your attention, please,” he said, and the train car quieted down. “There’s been some trouble. The tracks have washed out down the line and have made any further travel unsafe. We’re going to stay here in Awrout until the tracks are repaired. There is a small inn that has offered up rooms for a reduced price, and many of the good folk have offered up their homes for guests. We’ll also be using the train for sleeping accommodations. I’m sorry for this, folks, but it’s not safe to go on.”

Havoc glanced at Hawkeye. She had gone ramrod straight in her seat, her knuckles white as she clutched her folder. Mustang was frowning deeply, and within a moment he stood up.

“Excuse me,” he said to the conductor, and the chatter that had started up stopped. “If it’s a matter of repair, I can be of help. I’m a state alchemist. I can fix the tracks if you take me to them.”

A murmur started up again, but the conductor shook his head. “I appreciate the offer, sir, but it’s not just the tracks. The ground is too saturated for it to be safe. Additionally, there’s also a bridge to cross further down that is too risky right now.”

Mustang frowned. “What about going back, then?” he asked.

The conductor shook his head again. “The problem of ground saturation is the same. Even after this rain ends, we’re going to have to inspect the tracks for safety. I thank you for your offer, but unless your alchemy can stop this rain, then there isn’t much you can do.”

With that the conductor left, and the train went back to murmuring among themselves. The team exchanged uneasy looks, but no one seemed to have a good suggestion as for what to do.

Finally, Hawkeye, who had been growing more and more on edge, spoke. “This is ridiculous!” she said, abruptly standing up. She gathered Hayate in her arms and strode down the car towards the door. Mustang shot out of his seat, following her with a look of alarm on his face.

“What—” Havoc heard Breda mutter, but that was all he heard before the red-head was gathering both his and Mustang’s luggage and following behind. Taking the hint, the rest of the team quickly followed after, Havoc grabbing Hawkeye’s bag as well as his own. By the time they got outside, Hawkeye and Mustang were already at the small Station Master’s building, Hawkeye pressing in to talk to the Station Master. Havoc couldn’t hear exactly what she was saying, but it was clear that she was unhappy.

“—you telling me that there’s nothing? No cars, no trucks, not even a wagon out of here?”

The Station Master was shaking his head. “No, there’s nothin’. Nothin’ can get through this rain. It’s hard enough for the locals to get about.”

“But surely there’s something. Clearly supplies have been coming in,” she pressed.

“Until right now, it was the trains,” he said, giving her a stern look. “There’s no gettin’ out of here unless you wanna walk, Miss Hawkeye—and I don’t recommend that.”

Her jaw worked for a moment, and tension seemed to fill her.

“What’s up with Hawkeye?” Breda murmured, his brow furrowed.

Havoc considered what to say for a moment. How much should he say about the little that he knew? Should he even say anything?

Even in her obvious emotion, Hawkeye was a logical person, and she seemed to sense that there was no further to go on this argument. She huffed. “Fine. We’ll go take a room at the inn, then.”

The station master fixed her with a chastising. “I never took you for the selfish type, Miss Hawkeye,” he said. “There’s plenty ‘a people on that train with no place to stay ‘round here. You’ve got a place that’ll hold you ‘n all of yours, just with some supplies.”

Hawkeye looked something between outraged, guilty, and chastised, to Havoc’s eyes and, after a moment, she turned to leave. Mustang stood in her way and their eyes met, one of their silent conversations flowing between them. She took a couple of deep breaths, her jaw set, and Hayate whined against her.

“Fine,” she said, voice tight. “We’ll go there.”

She turned and stalked off, heading off the platform and down, the bewildered team following.

“What’s going on?” Breda asked again, although louder, so that anyone could answer the question.

When neither Hawkeye nor Mustang answered, Havoc took it upon himself to. “…This is Hawkeye’s hometown,” he said. “And it looks like we’ll be staying at the place she grew up.”

That apparently answered very little of the team’s questions, but Havoc wouldn’t answer more at the moment. With no other idea what to do, they followed Hawkeye and Mustang. The packed dirt road Havoc remembered from his last visit had turned into thick muck that pulled at his boots, and the rain soaked his uniform even further. It didn’t slow Mustang or Hawkeye, though, as they made their way to the general store, where Hawkeye ducked in with no hesitation at all. Mustang followed her, but Breda stepped in front of Havoc and turned to face him, stopping the rest of them before they went in.

“Alright, I want to know what you know,” he said to Havoc. “You and the general and captain came here a few months back because the general wanted to do some research. Mustang and Hawkeye looked like they were going to end each other when they left, and when you came back, they were better than before. You know what happened here and you have information. I wasn’t going to press because it wasn’t relevant. It’s relevant now. What do you know, Havoc?”

Falman and Fuery’s eyes turned towards him, and Havoc looked between the three men who were looking to him for answers. Finally, with a sigh, he relented. “Alright. Look, not all of it is mine to tell, okay? And some of it is private. But I’ll give you the bare bones.”

Breda nodded and seemed satisfied with that.

Havoc continued. “This is Hawkeye’s hometown. She grew up here, but… I don’t have the whole story, but it wasn’t a happy childhood. All I really know is that it was tough, her mother died when she was young, and she took care of her father until he died.” He could see the men’s reactions: the sympathy blooming in Fuery’s eyes, the uncomfortable shifting of Falman, and the stoic, calculating gaze of Breda. “I… don’t think he was good father,” he said. “I already told you that her father was the General’s alchemy teacher, but no, I don’t know what this means about flame alchemy. For all I know, he just taught the general the basics and he learned flame alchemy somewhere else. I don’t know anything for sure.” Although he had his theories that it at least came from Hawkeye’s dad’s research. “But that’s the basics. Hawkeye’s hometown, hard childhood, and Mustang studied under her dad.”

Breda’s eyes cut toward the doorway of the store. “That explains a little, at least,” he said, although it was clear that he also had other questions.

“Yeah, well, don’t push too much on anything else, okay? I don’t think she’s in the mood for it.” With that, Havoc moved around him and into the store, looking around.

Mrs. Nelson spotted him immediately and waved him over. “Oh, Lieutenant,” she said. “It’s so good to see you again! I didn’t expect you to come back so soon.”

Havoc gave her an easy grin. “To be fair, ma’am, we weren’t supposed to do more than just pass through.”

She clucked her tongue. “I’ll say! What a situation! My husband is out back looking over a wagon that should be good for you. Riza said that there were six of you this time, correct? Plus, that little fellow,” she gestured to Hayate, who was currently enjoying the scratches and cuddles of a couple of kids. “That’s quite a number of supplies. We might have to stretch it a bit. Then again, she always has been good at making things stretch, poor thing.”

“Yes’m,” Havoc replied. He had heard the others come in behind him. “These are the others that are with us. Lieutenant Heymans Breda, Lieutenant Vato Falman, and Master Sergeant Kain Fuery. If you don’t mind, ma’am, I’ll let them help you with the supplies. The captain knows more about wagons then the general does, but I’d still rather look myself.”

“Mercy, yes,” she said. “You go on out back, that way.” She waved her hand. “I’ll take care of the rest.”

Havoc gave her a wave, leaving the others to her, and went out back towards the loading dock. It was still, of course, pouring rain, but Havoc had just resigned himself to being soaked to the bone at this point. He didn’t see them anywhere, but he kept going, eventually finding them in a barn out back that was, mercifully, fairly dry. Mustang, Hawkeye, and Mr. Nelson were discussing a wagon, and Riza was looking at it a bit uncertainly.

“If you’re wonderin’ if I can drive that in the rain, the answer’s yes,” he said, interrupting them. “I’ve driven them in all sorts of weather. It’ll be slow going, but I think I can manage.”

Mr. Nelson looked at him. “I like your confidence, son, but are ya sure? It’s a mite of a distance t’ the old Hawkeye place, and the road isn’t good to begin with.”

“That’s true,” Havoc said, “but if we do come across a problem, there’s a good chance that the general’s alchemy can help us out.”

Mr. Nelson eyed Mustang as if he wasn’t quite sure that he could believe that, but Hawkeye cut in on him. “No, Havoc has a point. If something breaks, or we need something made, then the general should be able to help us out. If you’re worried about your wagon, please don’t be. We will take care of it, and repair anything it needs.”

Mr. Nelson seemed to consider this, then nodded. “Alright. I’ll let ya take her ‘n’ a couple ‘o the horses, as long as ya bring them back in a couple o’ days, even if it’s still pourin’ rain.”

Mustang nodded. “We can do that, Mr. Nelson.”

Mr. Nelson nodded. “Alright. Then let’s get her loaded up for you.”

The next few minutes were spent with readying the wagon and horses, while Hawkeye went back to check on the state of the supplies. Mustang followed her after Mr. Nelson practically chased him out, telling him he’d be of better use in there then with the horses.

Mr. Nelson looked over at the door to the barn, then back to Havoc. “They seem to be better than they were comin’ in the last time ya were here,” he said.

Havoc smiled. “They are,” he said. “They got better by the end of that trip.”

He nodded. “Alright. You all look after her now, alright? I know she’s strong, but she’s had a tough time here.”

This time, Havoc grinned. “Don’tcha worry about that. She’s got a whole team to look after her.”

Mr. Nelson gave a nod, and they spoke no more on it after that.

After preparing it, Havoc and Mr. Nelson took the wagon out into the rain, but not before they made sure all of the supplies were ready to load. Neither of them wanted the wagon or the horses to be in the rain more than necessary. Havoc took charge of the loading, as Mr. Nelson’s sons who would usually do it, were busy helping with the train passangers. He had experience on how to load the wagon, and Mr. Nelson watched for a while until he nodded approvingly and left. It took a while, but the wagon was loaded up and covered with an oiled cloth. Not long after that, they were ready to go, Havoc at the reigns with Hayate sitting up there with him to spare the little dog the mud.

It was slow going, and most of the team walked just because of that. Truthfully, they could have walked it faster than the wagon was going, but they all stuck with it simply because of the difficulty that the wagon encountered along the way. More than once, they had to stop and dig the wagon out the mud or levee it up. At times, Mustang had to use his alchemy to try to make a way for the wagon to move easier through the mud. By the time they arrived at the Hawkeye estate they were all soaked and filthy.

The house, to Havoc, looked even more foreboding in this weather. It loomed, especially as the lightning flashed behind it. He looked at Hawkeye out of the corner of his eye and watched her shudder. It could easily be passed off as a chill from the weather and the way that she was soaked, but both Havoc and Mustang seemed to see something in her eyes, and they exchanged glances. This was clearly going to be hard for her, not that Havoc had really expected anything less.

He drove the wagon around back, just like before, although this time Hawkeye didn’t go in through the front door but took her keys around to the back. The team followed, all of them drenched and muddy. Hawkeye took the keys and put them in the lock, turning it, cursing, turning it harder, and then shoving her shoulder into it. It made a creaking sound like it was unsticking, but it didn’t budge.

“Oh, come on!” she snapped out, clearly irritated. She shoved against it harder, and it didn’t move. She huffed. “It’s always stuck in bad weather,” she said.

“Let me try,” Breda said, and Hawkeye stepped out of the way. Breda turned the knob, and leaned his shoulder into it, giving the door a hard shove. For a moment, it looked like it wasn’t going to move, but after a couple of seconds, it finally did, pushing open with a sticking, scraping sound. Breda stumbled inside with the door, shoving it all the way open.

Hawkeye followed after him, but Havoc stayed on the wagon. Mustang turned to look at him and the other men. “Alright. Let’s get this unloaded. Try not to track too much mud in.”

“Yes, sir!” Fuery replied. He reached up to the wagon, and gathered Hayate in his arms, taking the soggy dog inside.

“That’s cheating!” Havoc called after him but turned and got down off the wagon. He instructed Falman in how to roll the oiled cloth back just a bit at a time so all the goods wouldn’t get soaked while they were unloading them, and then a frenzied unloading began, all the men working quickly to pull out the items. Havoc got glimpses of Hawkeye as she directed them in where to put things, clearly in charge of the house. Most of it was piled in corners until she could clean the counters and the cabinets, but it was at least inside and out of the rain. Her floors were a mess of mud and water, but there was little any of them could do about that.

“I’ll go take care of the horses and get them settled. I think that the barn was relatively sound,” Havoc said.

“It is,” Mustang replied. “I made sure of it.”

Havoc saw Riza look at Mustang askance, but she said nothing. Instead, she started directing the men about what to do about their muddy clothes. After all, cleaning up tracked mud through the house wasn’t exactly anyone’s idea of a good time.

Havoc left them there, heading out to the barn. Like last time, he parked the wagon in it, and unhitched the horses. The Nelsons had been kind enough to provide hay and feed for them, and Havoc took care of it all, getting them settled. He figured that Hawkeye would probably know how to do this, but would anyone else? He honestly wasn’t sure if any of his teammates had the skills for this or not. It would be something that he would need to find out.

Soon enough, it was all done, and he stopped at the barn door to scrape what he could of the mud off of his boots. Sure, he was just going to get more on them, but it was, at least, less to track in or to leave by the back door. He made his way across the squishing, muddy yard to the back door, which had been at least somewhat shoved closed. He pushed it open and slipped inside, closing it behind him. The only one in the kitchen at the moment was Hawkeye, who was busy cleaning out cabinets and cleaning off counters.

“Where’s everyone else?” he asked as she worked.

“I made them strip down and leave their clothes in the washroom,” she said. “Then I sent them with their luggage to go clean up and change.” She looked at him. “You’re less muddy than the rest of us because you were on the wagon, but you’re still pretty dirty and soaked through. Why don’t you put your boots and clothes in the washroom, and then head to the showers yourself.”

“What about you?” he asked, not wanting to leave her to do all the work herself.

She shook her head. “It’ll be easier for all of you men to go first. Then I’ll go. I know where everything goes, and I can work on getting the kitchen order and cleaning this floor.”

He frowned at her. “It’ll be a bit, then, before I get a turn, yeah? I can help you out until then at least.”

Hawkeye seemed to consider that. “Alright,” she said. “I already sent the others up with cleaning supplies for the rest of the house while they wait. You can help me start unloading the food and washing the dishes here.” She jerked a thumb at the washroom. “Leave your boots on, because there’s no saving this floor at the moment, but go ahead and leave your jacket and butt cape in the washroom.”

“Right-o,” he said, and headed off to do that.

It only took him a few minutes, and then he was back with her, cleaning the taller things, and helping to get the kitchen in order. He helped her get the stove cleaned out and fetched some wood from the indoor pile to get a fire in it started. As soon as they had cleaned up the coffee pot, a pot of coffee was put on. All of the men would be appreciative of the warm drink. With the two of them working together, it wasn’t long before the kitchen was getting in working order, with the food put away and the appliances functional.

She sent him out when it was mostly done, to strip and then go wandering upstairs in his underwear to see if he could get a shower yet. It seemed Mustang and Breda had managed to shower, although the water was getting colder with each turn they took, and were now dressed in clean, and more importantly, dry clothes. Falman was currently in, and Fuery was waiting.

“I was wondering when you’d get here,” Breda said.

Havoc flashed him a grin. “What, couldn’t wait to see this?” he teased.

“Ugh, no. I just want to see Hawkeye put you to work like the rest of us.”

“Hey—driving that wagon was hard work!” he protested. “And I took care of the horses and helped Hawkeye clean up the kitchen. I think I’ve been doing more work than you!”

“It does sound like a lot,” Fuery pipped up from where he was leaning on the wall, waiting on his turn for the shower. “She gave us a list of things to do when we were clean as well. Most of it is just things to prepare the rooms, though.”

“Yeah?” Havoc said. “She tell you which rooms to go in?”

“She said all the bedrooms, but told us to stay out of the study,” Fuery said.

“Huh,” Havoc said. “Even that one?” he pointed to the Master bedroom.

“Yeah,” Breda said. His eyes narrowed in confusion. “Any reason she shouldn’t?”

“I mean, it was just that was her father’s room. I didn’t know if she wanted anyone else in there,” he said with a shrug.

“I’m the only one that’s been in there so far,” Mustang said, as he appeared from the study, the one room that he, apparently, had permission to go into that the others did not. “I’ve taken care of it. It’ll be up to her, though, what happens from here.”

“Gotcha,” Havoc said, but before he could say anything more, Falman emerged from the bathroom, done with his shower. “Fuery,” he called. “Your turn.”

Fuery wasted no time in getting up and heading towards the shower, clearly ready to be clean and in dry clothes again.

“If you want,” Havoc said to the other men, “Hawkeye ‘n I put on a pot of coffee downstairs. You might have to ask her pass it back out to you, if the floor is still muddy, though. She’s pretty adamant about us not tracking it in the rest of the house.”

Mustang sighed. “She always was.” The other three men looked at Mustang curiously, obviously hoping for some sort of story, but he didn’t give it to them. “Alright,” he said, “let’s finish up here and then see what she needs our help with downstairs.”

Fuery was, mercifully, a quick shower, and he was in and out soon. Havoc soon found out why. The water was freezing, but it did do its job. By the time he emerged, his teeth were chattering, but he was clean.

“I vote we make Falman shower last,” he muttered to himself. “He had to have gotten used to the cold at Briggs.”

He dressed and took note of how the second floor seemed to be quite clean and, at this point, fairly well-lit despite the dark day. He could hear the others downstairs, and so he made his way down. Hawkeye already had them cleaning, although she had clearly confined herself to the kitchen, who’s floor was about half clean.

“Hey, I’m out,” he said, looking at her, and she nodded to him.

“Alright, let me just finish this floor and then I’ll head up as well.” She said.

“Just to warn you, that water is as cold as Briggs.” Havoc said.

He could have sworn he heard a muttered “not likely” from Falman, but he didn’t follow it up right then.

Hawkeye just snorted. “It wouldn’t be the first time,” she said. “At least it’s not frozen solid. That was a problem one year.”

Havoc could imagine that it was, but he didn’t really have too much to say on that. Instead, he stepped into the kitchen, on the clean parts of the floor, and reached for the coffee pot. It didn’t take him long to pour a cup, just as it didn’t take Hawkeye long to finish the floor. Within minutes it was sparkling and clean, and there was no mud in sight. He honestly had no idea how she had managed it, but she clearly had.

“Alright,” she said, standing in the doorway of the washroom. “Close your eyes.”

“What?” he said.

“Close your eyes,” she repeated. “Do you think I’m going to go up there in this and track mud all throughout my house? No thank you. I need to strip down too.”

“Ah,” Havoc said, and immediately turned around. “I’m just gonna… I’ll go warn the guys,” he said, slipping out of the kitchen and into the rest of the house, keeping his back to her the whole time.

“Hey,” he said, as he walked into the rest of the house, spotting Breda and Falman right away. “Hawkeye’s about to strip down to go get her shower, and she’d rather have her privacy.”

“Of course.”

“Sure.”

“Hey Fuery,’d hear that?” He called, spotting the young man scrutinizing the old radio in the living room.

“What?” he said.

“I said Hawkeye’s about to come through, so look away.”

“Oh! Yes, sir, can do!”

“Where’s Mustang?” Havoc asked.

“Right here,” he said, emerging from the lower bathroom with Hayate wrapped in a towel. “I was trying to heat up the water. I think it worked.”

“What’s what the dog?” Havoc asked.

“She’ll want to bathe him too. Might as well do it while she’s bathing. It’s faster that way.”

“Is everyone warned?” Hawkeye’s voice floated back from the kitchen. Havoc looked at the men, who respectfully turned their backs to the direction that she’d need to come through. He turned his as well.

“Yeah, you’re good!” he called back, and closed his eyes for an extra added layer of security. He could hear her bare feet padding through, moving quickly, and then heard another set of footsteps join her—the General.

“I’ve got Hayate for you,” he said as they walked.

“Thank you, but I’m not sure how he’s going to take the cold water.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. I made sure that the water was warm.”

“Without burning the house down? Impressive.”

“Hey, that was one time!”

Their voices faded as they made their way upstairs, and when they heard the last stair creak, the men opened their eyes and turned back around. For a moment, they were silent.

“…well. We all knew it,” Breda said.

“Seems the general can see the captain like that,” Falman said.

“Yeah, and like it wasn’t anything new,” Breda said. A moment of silence fell over the men before Breda spoke up again. “Alright, back to work. We don’t want the Hawk shooting us because we were here gossiping instead of working.”

There was a bit of grumbling, but the men kept working. Havoc helped a bit with direction seeing as he had been here before and had a vague idea of what Hawkeye might want. Meanwhile, from upstairs they could hear some noise that sounded like feet moving too close together, and heavy steps. The men exchanged looks, Havoc raising his eyebrows more than once, at least until Mustang came down the stairs with Hayate wrapped in another towel.

“Sounded like quite a time up there, sir,” Havoc drawled as Mustang came into view.

Mustang blinked at him for a moment, and then scowled. “It was Hayate,” he said. “The captain was bathing him too, and after he was finished, she handed him out to me. But he didn’t want to come.”

“Mm-hm,” Havoc said. “Handed him to you, huh?”

Mustang’s scowl increased. “I can still set you on fire, Havoc.”

Havoc grinned at him but got back to work.

It wasn’t long after that, that Riza came back down, looking much cleaner and a bit more relaxed. Mustang had started a fire in the fireplace in the living room by then, and Hayate was laying by the fire, sleeping as he dried off.

“Feel better, Captain?” Fuery asked her.

“Much,” she said as she looked around the room. “You boys seem to be doing a good job.”

“Well General said you were picky,” Havoc said. “Although he didn’t say how he knew.”

A bit of a smile played at her lips. “I would hit him with the mop when he tracked mud in my house,” she said.

Breda stopped, leaning on the broom he had. “Yeah, so, that brings up a few questions.”

Mustang and Hawkeye exchanged a look. Finally, Hawkeye spoke. “This is my childhood home,” she said. “I grew up in this house with my father. He was an alchemist.”

Even though she had said it with a straight face and an even tone, that statement seemed to hold a hidden weight. Havoc exchanged looks with Breda.

“When I was young, he took on the general as an apprentice. My father taught him basic and advanced alchemy before the general left for the military.”

There was clearly more to the story, but she also obviously wasn’t going to share it. Eyes shifted over to Mustang.

“I was here for many years, but her father didn’t approve of me leaving to join the military and kicked me out. I only returned when I learned that Master Hawkeye was dying. After that, I returned to the military. But, if your question is, did Hawkeye and I grow up together, I’d have to say that yes, for a good portion of our childhoods we did.”

It was clear from his redirection that he considered the questions on the rest of it closed. It was also clear that there was a lot more to the story. But why they weren’t saying more, well, that wasn’t nearly as clear. Havoc had been satisfied last time with the little knowledge he was left with. But now? He had the feeling that he was going to end up learning more than he had the first time around.

He just hoped it was in a better manner then his last visit here.

With the topic clearly closed, the team got back to work, and, under Hawkeye’s clear direction, it wasn’t long before the house was clean to her satisfaction. With the fire blazing in the living room, making it the warmest in the house, they all took a break in there. Fuery headed straight to the radio to mess with it, clearly giving it a look over.

“It’s not very good,” Hawkeye said as she sat down. Hayate woke up enough to pad over to her and paw at her for attention. “Father wasn’t much for spending money, or for the radio.” She reached down to give Hayate some attention.

“Are you kidding, sir?” Fuery said. “It’s a beauty! It old, but I bet I can make it work again—with your permission, sir.”

Hawkeye gestured at it. “Go ahead. If you can make it receive better, I’m all for it.”

“You said your father didn’t like the radio,” Falman said. “May I ask why?”

Riza reached down and picked up Hayate, bringing him up onto the couch with her. “He never really told me. He didn’t really talk to me. But I think it was because the music reminded him of mother, and he didn’t want that.”

“What happened to your mother?” Falman asked, and Havoc listened with interest.

“She died,” Hawkeye said, “when I was young. I don’t really remember her, aside from associations of brightness, warmth, and color. I know she taught me a lot, because I have some early memories where I was thinking ‘that’s how Mother did it,’ but I don’t actually remember her teaching me. But Father didn’t want much that reminded him of her, so no music.”

Havoc looked at Hawkeye, and he couldn’t help but wonder about her statement that her father “didn’t want much that reminded him” of her mother. He wanted to ask, “did that mean you too?” but he didn’t feel like he should ask that, and so he didn’t.

But the question lingered in the back of his mind.

The day had been a long one and, even with a moment to rest, there was still more to do. They had been either traveling or busy most of the day, and the dinner hour was nearing. All of them were hungry and, after some time to rest, Hawkeye stood up.

“I should start supper,” she said. “It’ll require more prep time to feed this many mouths.”

“I’ll give you a hand,” Havoc said, and went to push up, only to stop with a wince as pain flashed through his lower back.

“Hav?” Breda said, concern in his voice.

Havoc gave him a strained smile. “Ah, it’s nothing. Weather’s just been affecting me.”

Hawkeye was frowning at him. “You’ve done a lot today too. Maybe you should just rest.”

“Yeah, but you need some help. And we know the General is of no use.”

Mustang muttered something under his breath, but Breda stood up. “You’re not the only one that can at least peel a potato, Hav,” he said.

“I can help too,” Falman volunteered.

“If you need me, I can as well,” Fuery said, although it was clear that he really wanted to stay working on the radio.

“No, you’re good, Fuery,” Hawkeye said. “These two should be good enough. Too many cooks spoil the pot and all of that.”

Havoc could see Fuery blinking at her in surprise, obviously not expecting a phrase that had a more country flair to come out of her mouth but nodded anyway. “Alright, thank you, sir,” he said, and turned his attention back to the radio.

Havoc watched them leave, and then turned and stretched himself out on the couch. It felt good to put his legs up. He watched as Mustang left, and then came back with a book in is hands. The house fell quiet, except for the sound of the falling rain, the crackling of the fire, and the muffled voices from the kitchen. Havoc closed his eyes, listening. He was just starting to relax when he felt something wet gently shove into his arm. Startled he opened his eyes to see Hayate staring at him. He let out a breath.

“Alright, pooch, come on up,” he said, patting his belly.

The little dog hopped up onto the couch with him and settled down on top of him. Havoc put a hand on him, lightly petting him for a few moments, and then little dog closed its eyes. Havoc decided to follow suit, hoping that the pains in his legs would die down soon.

It was actually kind of nice like this, with the quiet sounds, and Havoc’s mind drifted while he laid there. It was a lot different than the last time he was here. That time Mustang and Hawkeye had been angry at each other, dangerously so. If a few missteps had been made, he was pretty sure that there would have been irreparable damage done to their relationship. But, after a breakdown from Riza and an attempt at an apology gesture from Roy, they had reconciled, which had made the last two days of the trip more bearable, at least.

The whole trip had left him with lots of questions, though. Hawkeye had grown up here with her father, and with Mustang for a bit. So why were they so formal with each other? Why didn’t they let it be known that they were childhood friends? And then there was the fact that Hawkeye’s father was Mustang’s alchemy teacher. Neither had said anything about flame alchemy. In fact, the one time he had tried to bring it up, Hawkeye had abruptly exited that conversation, and Mustang had been unwilling to go further. But it still begged the question: Where had Mustang learned flame alchemy from and did Riza’s father have anything to do with it?

There were other questions as well. Things that Hawkeye did, or stories she told that made him wonder about the kind of life she had. The way she had spent a lot of her childhood hunting. That she had bathed at the pond on her property quite a bit. The way that she saved everything, even the smallest bits. All of the things in the house that had been sold to help with upkeep and bills. The lack of modern conveniences. The stories that Riza told about places she had slept, or time spent outside, or about the “first thrashing” she had gotten from her father or the anger he would show. All of that ran through the back of his mind as he laid there.

He honestly didn’t know if he should be concerned about protecting her past, or if he should be interested in learning more of it. Either way, Havoc was pretty certain that he was going to end up finding out more about her.

Havoc just hoped that it wasn’t as painful as last time.

The afternoon and night were spent fairly peacefully, with supper being eaten, the kitchen being cleaned, and all of their uniforms being put in the wash tub to soak. Tomorrow would be the day to deal with that more directly. Tonight, they were all tired.

Riza gave them permission to all the rooms on the bottom floor, including the library, much to Falman’s delight. She barred them from the basement, though, and the study on the second floor. It was curious, but no one really questioned it, although Havoc couldn’t help but draw parallels from the last time they were here. They were too tired to bother questioning it, though, and besides, Riza Hawkeye never did anything without a good reason.

Rooming arrangements were discussed. There were, technically, four bedrooms. But it was clear that the idea of someone in her father’s old bedroom was difficult for Riza. So instead, they agreed to share the other three bedrooms. Falman and Fuery took the bedroom that Havoc had been in last time, and Havoc and Breda took the one that had been Roy’s. There was an awkward moment where Hawkeye and Mustang discussed Mustang sleeping in the master bedroom, at least until Breda threw a blanket at them.

“Just go share a bed,” he said. “It’s not like you haven’t shared a tent before on missions. This isn’t different.”

With that it was settled, and they went into Hawkeyes’ old room together.

“Just so you know,” Havoc told Mustang before he went into the room, “the bed squeaks. I heard it the last time I was here.”

Mustang gave him a shove and slammed the door in his face, and Havoc laughed, making his way toward the room he was sharing with Breda to hopefully sleep.

#FMA Big Bang 2021 #fullmetal alchemist Big Bang 2021 #Fullmetal Alchemist #fma #royai #riza hawkeye #Roy Mustang #Heymans Breda #Vato Falman #Kain Fuery #black hayate #fan fiction #fanfic

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ssa-daddyhotchner · 3 years

Text

Undercover - Chapter 16

Chapter Selection

TW: Rape

My arms were wrapped around him; my hands around his torso. His back was pressed against my chest. My legs were over top of his tangled in each other. I felt him shift in front of me.

"This is different", I heard him mumbled. I hummed in agreement. "I like it though."

"Figured you word, who doesn't wanna be held." He made quick movements and flipped us around so he was hold me. "Yeah getting held is nice and all but this is better."

His hand went under my shirt and were resting on my stomach. Right as I was going to fade away his phone rang. I let out a sigh.

"Every fucking time, welp I'm up now." I stood and went to the bathroom while around laid in bed answering the phone. I looked at the clock, it was 7am. I jumped into the shower, I heard the door open and close.

Aaron got in with me. I was letting the water over my body, "What'd they want."

"It was Dave he was letting me know that he made reservations for dinner at 5 they Morgan texted saying he wanted to do to a club tonight. I started laughing,

"They just went out 2 days ago, I swear one day were gonna have to take them to the hospital for alcohol poisonings."

I moved him into the water washing his body; he did the same with me.

We stepped out, "I'm starving, oh my god can we get room service. I know its dumb but I've never done it before." He chuckled putting on his shirt, "Sure princess." I sat down on the bed getting on the phone, I placed an order for the food.

"I'm gonna tell Spencer we'll be out later today cause I'm spending all my time with you." I tossed my phone to the side, sending the text. I went over to the edge of the bed where Aaron was and started tickling his side.

"Ah, fu- y/n.. stop", he rolled onto the floor. I was hanging off the bed laughing my ass off. Aaron just gave me a grin, staring at me, "Oh you want to be like that huh?" I smiled nodding my head. He started to stand up from the floor.

I knew what was coming and I got up and bolted towards the door. I opened the door walking down the hallway till I saw him coming after me. "No fuck you...." I was giggling now jogging down the hallway.

I was making my way down turning a corner, I didn't see him anymore. I thought I lost him when I felt a pair of hands holding me. He swiftly picked me up and put me over his shoulder. "Aaron!", I yelled tapping his back .

"I could feel his back tense and the laughter falling from his lips, "Thought you could get away? I mean good effort... you almost did." I gave up fighting him. "Ok hold on, put me down I wanna a piggy back ride."

He set me down on my feet turning around and I climbed on his back. My legs going around his waist and his hands hold me still with a firm grip on my thighs. We made our way down the hallway back into the room.

He flipped me in front of him and hovered over me.

I saw his eyes getting slightly darker. I gripped him by his shirt and slowly pulled his down to me kissing him gently.

His hand cupped my face deepening the kiss. My legs stayed wrapped around him. Then there was a knock on the door; my breakfast was here.

I opened the door and they rolled in a cart, I said thank you to the man and he left pulling the door shut behind him. "This is so cool", Aaron pulled the cart towards the bed sitting down. "Its just food."

"Like I said before I've never had room service before let me enjoys this", I had a smile on my face when I saw the food. I had ordered peanut butter waffles with real maple syrup and had them covered in butter. They were so flavorful and creamy from the peanut butter.

I took a drink of my coffee and fed Aaron some of my food. After he took a bite be picked up some of his food an fed me. He got French toast and bacon. I held up my finger and dipped the bacon in my syrup. He gave me a weird look, "Come on it's so fucking good."

"Yeah I'm not too sure about that", when we were done we cleaned up and laid in bed all day watching tv and playing some games. When it was time we went to dinner with the team and then we got changed for the club.

I stepped out of the bathroom and say Aaron. He was wearing a tight black t-shirt with washed grey jeans. The shirt was perfect for showing off his shoulder and his arms. I could see the veins running down his arm.

I walked over and started tracing them, he looked down at me. "Ready?", I said yes and we left. We walked over to the club, it was 5 mins from the hotel. I walked in with Aaron behind me and I saw Reid waving his arm at us.

Emily of course already had shots lined up I was going to grab on but she told me wait.

"We're gonna play a game ok. Never have I ever. If you've done the thing we mention them take a shot." We all nodded and started the game. Morgan started first, "Never have I ever had a one night stand." Practically every took a shot but Aaron and I. "Pretty boy my man", Morgan gave Reid a fist bump then they turned the attention to me.

"Really y/n? Not once", JJ said to me. "I'm more in it for the relationship." They shrugged it off then continued the game.

"Thought about sleeping with on of my coworkers." I took a shot real fast but so did everyone else. We wouldn't to keep those thoughts anonymous so we didn't elaborate. "What'd to date a coworker." I took another shot. They looked at me, "I'm keeping thoughts to myself." I said while laughing.

We continued that game for another 5 mins. I was 4 shots deep and I was starting to feel it. Aaron and I weren't planning on drinking too much because he knew how bad my hangovers were.

"If you didn't know anyone us who would you date." That question went around the table. Reid said me, Morgan said Emily so did JJ, Emily said JJ. Then that question came to Aaron and I. Aaron did answer till they forced it out of him. He said me, I wanted to mess with him so I said Morgan; He glared at me and tried to not make it obvious.

Morgan threw his arms up and yelled. "Ok ok calm down." Laughing I grabbed Aaron hand and went to the dance floor, the team soon followed. Morgan finding a group of girls to be with. I gave Aaron on more shot and he started to loosen up.

His hips landed on my hips swaying back and forth into him. My hands going backwards and landed around his neck. His breath going into my neck, they other people all around us raising the temperature.

Once I cooled off I felt really tired, "Aaron I'm gonna head back to the hotel."

"Okay let me know when we get there, I'll go back in an hour. Love you."

"Love you too", I walked away from his and walked outside. I started walking passing the building, there was no one around me.

As I was passing one of the building I felt hands going around my mouth and arms around my waist pulling me backwards into the ally between the building.

My mind was flooded with confusion, and fear; who just grabbed me, what the fuck if happening. My mind was running a hundred miles an hour; I was unable to process it.

I was still getting dragged, every step I saw the street lights getting further away and the darkness of the ally taking over my sight. I could hear the husky breathing of the man behind me.

He pulled me into a corner where there were dumpsters. We weren't in a building but we had cover; no one saw what this man was doing. When we got under he turned me around and slammed my back against the wall, my head smacking the cold concrete. I couldn't see his face, he had a mask; I could see his eyes.

I know those eyes, I used to see them all the time; those are the eyes that caused me daily pain.

He roughly moved his hand over my shoulder taking off the strap of my tank top. I was throwing my hands scratching down his arm; his skin was underneath my fingernails, "Fucking whore!"

He hissed through his teeth. He lost patience and held onto my throat, his palm pressing into my windpipe. I couldn't breath only taking very small wheezing breaths.

He used his other hand taking my shirt; with one forceful motion he torn off my top exposing my chest. There were tears flowing down my face, "Plea- please!" I cried out. I kept trying to move from his grip; he threw me to the ground. I scrapped my hands and knees on the pavement.

I hurried to my feet and grabbed the tin that was on the ground and hit him over the head. I made a run for it, but he dragged me so far down and I didn't have my shoes on. Every step was on rocks and chunks of glass.

I heard his heavy foot steps behind me and he kicked the back of my leg knocking me to the ground yet again; scraping my shoulders.

He flipped me over on my back and sat on me. His weight keeping me down. I was still tipsy from the drinks that were still setting in; I wasn't as strong. He slapped me across my face stunning me.

He brought both hands down to my pants and yanked my shorts down.

They bunched at my ankles and he ripped my underwear off. "Get the fuck off of me!", I screamed laying scratches on his face and trying to gauge his eyes. I would've done anything to make it stop. My mind was filled with what was about to happen.

Aaron thinks I'm in the hotel room peacefully sleeping; waiting for him crawl into bed with me.

I knew it was over when I heard the clanking of his belt and his zipper. He was getting ready to...

The fear I had in that exact moment was paralyzing.

It felt like I was being tore open, I knew there was blood. He was gripping my thighs leaving dark bruises. I finally gave up, I felt numb. I felt like I was outside my body watching what was happening to me.

There were tears flowing, I moved my head to the opposite direction of where his face was. I was praying that this was a dream; his face was covered, he wasn't going to kill me. He's gonna leave me with the constant thought of what he was did.

I squeezed my eyes shut, he had complete control over me. No one was coming to help; god I wished someone would. But even if they did the damage was done.

His hands had a frim grip on my arms; his nails digging into my skin drawing blood. He moved his hands to my hips forcing himself into me deeper, a blur covered my vision; I most likely passed out.

When he was done he knew I wasn't going to get up. He threw something over me, I don't remember. After an hour of fading, I slowly regained the strength and will to stand up. I pulled my torn shirt over my chest. I put my shorts on and put my shoes back.

I didn't have my phone with me, all I could do was go back to the hotel. I walked past a gas station and saw it was 2am. I left the club at around 12am. He was attacking me for almost an hour.

And I did nothing...

As I walked through the lobby there were eyes. Luckily just a few employees, but they just stared as I walked to the elevator going to my room. Knocking on the door not having my key I waited, I heard steps inside coming towards me.

"Where the fuck were you!", those were the first words to come out of Aarons mouth he quickly took notice of my appearance and the forming bruises. I didn't hold it against him he didn't see yet, he opened the door wider.

"Y/n what the fuck, oh my god", he went to go place his hand on me to bring me inside but I flinched away and he backed up. He let me walk in myself as he went to the bed and sat down.

I closed the door and walked away from him. I stopped crying but there was clear evidence that I had been. My eyes were blood shot, eyes were puffy, and there were streaks of dried tears on my face.

Once Aaron opened the door and saw my appearance he knew something happened, and he knew the answer. He had seen cases like these before, he knew what they looked like and how the victims acted. He wasn't ready to face the reality.

He sat quietly on the bed and I sat in the chair across the room. I turned it to face him. I was sitting uncomfortably as I could feel the dried cum from between my legs.

"Can you tell me what happened?", my mind lingered on those words; I wanted to tell him. He had to know, I just couldn't meet his eyes. His dominant presence made me fearful. I knew he'd never hurt me but it was the fact... that he was a man.

We tell rape victims to talk about the trauma; it helps them get through it... to move on. If I didn't take my own advice then how was I going to do it. I gathered the courage.

"I was on my way here, I was grabbed and uh- dragged", my voice was thick. It sounded like I was forcing the words out. I looked up trying to blink away the tears. But they were already falling, "I was forced to the wall, he- he tore off my clothes an- and he started to... touch me." I used my hand to wipe my face; reliving all of it.

I glanced up to see Aarons face mixed with emotions.

"He started to pull down his pan- pants... he." I couldn't continue. I met Aarons eyes and they were filling with tears.

They were flooding his face. His eyes were glassy, his pain didn't compare to mine but he was breaking just as much; seeing me like this broke his heart into a million pieces. I sat there crying and he knew I wasn't going to say anymore.

"Y/n, can I go over to you?", he spoke in the softest voice he possibly could trying to not scare me. I was contemplating and decided against it. Being hesitant; I needed space. I shook my head.

"Okay that's fine how about I gather some clothes for you... I can leave the room if you want."

He was doing as much as could to make me feel comfortable. "Don't leave just... please don't", Aaron nodded and started to get me clothes while I walked to the bathroom. It had been 2 hours since the incident and the bruises were more prominent.

I ran my fingers over them and my heart shattered, never in my life did I think I'd be in this situation.

I didn't tear but there were still blood from the penetration. I wet a rag wiping between my legs, I knew I technically wasn't suppose to wash off evidence I just- I couldn't leave it there.

I heard a soft knock on the door getting me out of my thoughts. "I'm setting your clothes on the bed, I'm going to get some food; if you want you can talk about it more." I took a step towards him.

"Please don't leave me, you can have Spencer get it. I want you to stay with me." Tears were threatening to spill yet again for the 4th time tonight.

"Okay", he left and sat in the corner so he couldn't see me get changed. He texted Reid and when I was done he turned around.

I was 'clean' but I felt dirty, like trash. Sitting on the bed there was a knock at the door. It was Spencer; Aaron walked to the door and opened it just enough for the bag. "Hotch what's going on?"

"Reid, not now", he closed the door and returned to the bed but didn't sit. He stood there waiting for me to say he could. "You can", he sat across form me. He handed me my food and I started eating. "Are you sure you wanna talk about it again?"

"Yeah", I let quietly and he was waiting for me to resume. "When he started to rape me, I gave up fighting when he actually went fully... in. I laid there feeling like I was just a ghost watching. I didn't do anything." I paused, I was upset and getting angry.

"I didn't do anything Aaron. I was getting raped and I didn't fucking do anything! I laid there taking it, I wanted to die from just fucking that!" They were flowing, I wasn't calming down. I was yelling and sobbing, pacing the room.

"Y/n this isn't your fault you might not have done anything but it definitely. isn't your fault." He was still speaking softly but at a normal tone, he was getting angry that I was blaming myself but he was trying to not raise his voice.

"Aaron how can I not, I'm the one that didn't stop it. God knows I fucking tried! He held me down! he choked me, hit me." I took a deep breath calming myself down. I looked at him in the eyes.

"He. had. complete. control over the situation and I had... nothing." My voice returned to normal. Lowering I wasn't yelling it was small.

"And the fact that I knew who did it doesn't make the situation any better." His face fell.

I saw anger flash through his eyes, his jaw clenched and he tightened his fists. "What do you mean you know who did it." His voice waved, he was livid. I knew I had to tell him but he was most likely going to lash out and go after him... with good reason.

"I'm gonna tell you but you need to promise me that you'll keep it together."

"Fine", he hated this whole night. He hated that I made him promise to not go after him.

"It was Mark... my ex. I could tell by the way he spoke and his eyes." He shut his eyes tightly trying to process the words that just left my lips. He knows that he was the one that abused me in the past. Mark was the one that was sending the letters to the house, watching me and Aaron, and now Mark was the one that assaulted me.

Mark was the one to finally pull the supports from my body. My world was close to collapsing but right now Aaron was the only thing keeping me above the ground.

He waited a few minutes before speaking. He lowered his voice again, "This is what I want you to do. You're gonna tell the team you're not feeling well and we're going to go to the hospital for a rape kit. That's going to prove Mark... raped you and I'm going to arrest his ass."

"Okay", I stood there leaning against the wall and Aaron sat still on the bed. "Can we go to bed."

"Yeah", I moved to the bed and Aaron moved to the other side. "Can you sleep on the couch, I want you in here but I just- can't be next to you."

"I understand, it's fine." He turned off the lights and I gave him a pillow. I laid down, wishing Aaron was holding me but I knew that I would be triggered if he was. I was cold the whole night missing the warmth he brought me and so was Aaron. He wanted to make me feel safe and protected but he also knew that I wouldn't be.

"Love you." I mumbled out.

"Love you too princess."

____________________________

@mac99martin @appleblossoms-posts @donttellanyoneireadfanfiction @oreogutz @marie1115 @wanniiieeee

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tnystrk-exe · 3 years

Text

we both know how this song ends 5

Jack Daniels x Reader

Masterpost

Previous Chapter

Warnings: drugging and sexual assault

Chapter Five

Dinner was sizzling on the stove. You had set Jack to make the biscuit dough for the cobbler as you cooked. Grabbing the berries, you tossed them all together into a bowl, cornstarch and lemon juice quick to join them.

Jack was humming a gentle tune. It had been a serene day. The two of you had skipped out on school. It wouldn’t be anything interesting today. Most people didn’t go to school homecoming day anyway, he had said. Instead you grabbed everything you needed for tonight and made Jack stop by the grocery store to make the senior Daniels surprise dinner.

“Sweetheart, I could get used to this,” Jack sighed contently, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

“Oh?” You gave him a soft smile.

“Mhm.” He stole a stray strawberry from the container, “Want one?” You scoffed lightly at him, but opened your mouth expectantly all the same. He traced it along your bottom lip before feeding it to you, eyes trained on the scene. “Give me a taste…” Jack’s hand traced along your jaw before pulling you in for a kiss.

You moaned softly, letting him take over. Happy to let him take what he had wanted. Only breaking away from the kiss when you finally decided breathing was vital, taking in short quick breaths. Not one to leave him hanging, you pressed a couple kisses along his jaw. He stopped you, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before resting his own against it.

A brief moment of bravery struck. “I could get used to this too.” Those weren’t the exact words others would say, but they were weighty enough for you.

Jack gave you a pleased smile. “I’m glad, baby.”

You had to move away from him, taking the stakes off the skillet before they had a chance to burn. Jack scooped the berries into a pan and added his dough to the top of it. Settled back into your task, it had been quick work to finish up dinner. The timing was immaculate. As Jack spooned the mashed potatoes into a bowl and you finished the cornbread, both the older Daniels walked into the home.

“That smells delicious!” Mrs. Daniels exclaimed, “You didn’t have to do that, YN.”

You gave her a hug, “It’s the least I could do. Jack and I were bored anyway. Besides, my buddy pal over there was practically begging for the cobbler all week.”

“And you made it didn’t you, Bug?” Mr. Daniels said smugly, ruffling your hair fondly.

Jack smiled at the three of you. He was happy you got along with his parents. It was always a noticeable change when they were around. Maybe they just gave you a taste of what you had missed he had decided. At least he had hoped they did. He wrapped an arm around you proud he had waited to bring such a great person to bring home to them.

“We should get ready for our date.” He hummed as his parents went to get cleaned up. “Can’t wait to see you all dolled up.”

“And I can't wait to see you in a classy pair of jeans,” you teased him. “C’mon I should start fixing up my face anyway.”

“And you’ll absolutely love the way they look on me,” he responded unfazed. All the same he grabbed your hand and led you up the stairs. “There’s nothing that could make you prettier.”

You grabbed your makeup bag and sat in front of his standing mirror. Jack turned on the music, opting to just lay on his bed and relax. All he really had to do is a clean up shave anyhow. Maybe a quick nap wouldn’t be too bad either. He didn’t know how long you’d take or want to bother you as you worked.

After a while, you straddled his thighs, excited to show him your work. His soft snores filled up the room. “Jack,” you half whined, bouncing lightly as you did, “Wake up.”

“‘M up, babygirl. I’m up. ” he sighed sleepily as he placed his hands on your hips to still you. Taking a good look at you, he smiled, his thumbs rubbing circles against your hips. “You look so beautiful, sugar. How’d I get so lucky?”

“You’re really cute trying to butter me up.”

“Cute enough for a kiss?”

“And there’s your motive.” You shifted closer to press a chaste kiss to his lips, already moving to get off of him. “You can have a better kiss if you go get dressed for me.”

“Uh uh. You’re not getting away that easy.” Jack moved, easily pinning you underneath himself. He pushed a strand of hair away from your face. “May I?”

“Always the gentleman,” you breathed out jokingly.

You caught him in a kiss. Your heart was already pounding away in your chest, it had never taken much with him. He trailed a hand along your thigh before hooking your leg over his waist. Taking your time, you kissed along his neck before sucking a possessive mark onto his favorite spot, your hands working on the buttons of his shirt pushing it off the second it came loose. Jack let out a too loud groan, enjoying the feel of your lips on him. Gladly making it known that you were a weak spot for him too.

“Now,” you pushed him off a bit, keeping your hands pressed against his chest so he wouldn’t try to steal a kiss from you, “Go get dressed.” You had stressed each word with a kiss along his jaw.

He hung his head against your chest, leaving a kiss there. “You’re one to talk about motives.” With a sigh he got off of you. Grabbing his clothes from the closet, he spared himself a quick glance in the mirror. “Baby…” he chuckled, “Was all this really necessary?”

You laughed, getting a good look of how your lipstick had smeared onto him. “I could definitely get used to that. It’s a cute look on you.”

“Remind me to take you on more dates,” he commented before he walked out of the room, making sure to shut the door behind himself. “Mom! Jesus Christ!” You heard him startle.

A sigh. “You’re not allowed alone in the rooms anymore. Especially when your dad and I are home.”

“That’s fair,” you heard him reply, almost picturing his bright blush, “Anything else?”

“Go get that lipstick off of your neck.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You fell back against his bed, pretty sure you could feel physical pain through the embarrassment. A knock sounded against the door.

“YN, dear? Do you need help with anything?”

“Uh, no. I just need to get dressed,” you winced at the wording, “Thank you. I’ll be right down.”

“If you need anything, just call for me.”

Hearing her walk away, you stood up and started stripping down. You took the time to make quick adjustments to the makeup Jack had ruined. Sure you may have had a hand in that, but it felt better to place the blame on him. Your eye caught sight of the Polaroid on his dresser.

Biting your lip you weighed the options. You knew he wouldn’t share it around if you did so happen to take a picture. He was easy to trust like that.

Why the fuck not?

You grabbed his Polaroid and set it on to a self timer. The sensual pose you had been going for broken as you laughed at the ridiculousness of it. Grabbing the photo you looked at the fading in picture. It didn’t look too bad. If you were honest he’d probably like this version better anyhow. He was a softie. Going to the closet you hid it in the pocket of his favorite shirt, figuring he’d find it soon enough.

“Hey, babydoll, have you seen my tie?” Jack asked, walking into the room. He was unaware of the situation, preoccupied with fastening his shirt buttons.

A quick look in the closet, you saw it hanging on the rod. You grabbed the tie and handed it over. He finally looked up, his eyes widening when he noticed your current state. You didn’t miss his eyes doing a quick once over before he looked away, bright blush covering his now freshly shaved cheeks. Not the mustache though, you doubted you’d ever see him without it unless you gave him an extremely good reason.

“Fuck… I’m sorry. I honestly wasn’t trying to catch you…”

“It’s okay. I trust you, sunshine. While you’re here, you may as well wait up and help me zip up my dress. It’s the least you could do after giving yourself a free show,” you teased him.

“Y’know, I shouldn’t feel too terrible. Let’s say I had taken you on a swimmin’ date instead…” He trailed off, letting you fill in the blanks, back at ease seeing you hadn’t been upset.

“Uh huh, keep telling yourself you would have gotten a look at the goods anyway. Learn to knock, perv.”

You pulled on the simple cocktail dress. The navy blue of it matched up with Jack’s tie well enough. It was a dress you had had for a while, but it was pretty enough to pass through the event. You turned your back to Jack. He moved your hair to the side, fingers trailing against the lacy fabric, before obliging and zipping up your dress.

“You realize you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen?” He asked, looking at you through the mirror, resting his chin on your shoulder, “Stop rolling your eyes when I’m trying to be sweet on you.”

“I know, I am,” you turned in his arms, facing him, “let me help you with that.” You took his tie from off his shoulder and placed it on his neck. “May mess it up a bit, it’s been a while.”

“You know how to?” He asked, letting you do it for him.

“Dad taught me a couple things. Said it was a useful skill if I had a son, but mostly he was just lazy as all hell. That man hated ties.” You pulled the knot toward his throat, catching his slight wince, “Too tight?”

“Just a little,” he loosened it slightly. Jack pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Wouldn’t know what to do without ya.” He stepped past you as you started to fuss with your hair, reaching up into the closet.

You snorted quietly when you realized what it was. “I can’t believe I’m dating a cowboy with a formal occasion hat and boots.”

“Get used to it baby, eventually we’ll get you to my level too.” Jack sat his hat on your head, “See? That’s fucking hot.”

You laughed, “Why don’t we snap a picture then?”

“I’d love that, sweet girl.” He kissed your cheek, looking at the already set up camera, “That’s weird. I don’t usually misplace things.”

You ignored his cocked brow, resetting the timer. “Welp, there’s a first time for everything.”

“Hm, I guess there is…” He didn’t push it, instead opting to pull you in close for the picture.

“Bubba! Bug! Y’all gonna spend all night up there?” Mr. Daniels called out. “We’re getting impatient here.”

You held out his suit jacket for him to slip on. “C’mon cowboy, lot more of those where that came from,” you said, putting the hat on his head, careful not to mess up his hair.

The two of you walked down the stairs hand in hand. Mr. Daniels was already snapping pictures the second you stepped into view.

“Don’t the two of you look precious!” Mrs. Daniels gushed excitedly. “Too bad your mother isn’t here to see the two of you.”

“Mare,” he shook his head slightly. “You two clean up nice. Good going, kids. Matching and everything.”

“Already had the dress,” you informed, hoping to glaze over the mom bit, “We took more time finding Jack’s tie than anything. I do think he looks extremely handsome.”

Jack blushed brightly. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

Bess looked over lazily from the couch, unimpressed with the commotion.

His parents fussed over pictures excitedly. From what you had gathered, Jack had decided to skip past all the other dances. No particular reason, but he had just preferred going out with his friends instead. Which made Jack asking you to go all that much sweeter to you.

“Okay, okay. You took enough pictures. There’s enough proof we went on a date now,” Jack complained, “Anymore with you two and we won’t make it to the dance at all.”

“Just a few more,” his mom persuaded.

“Mare, why don’t we go take these to the store to get them developed? We already wasted a whole roll on them.”

“Sounds great!” Jack went to hug his mom, “You’ll get some more of us when prom rolls around.”

She sighed, but nodded, “Fine, go have some fun.”

Jack turned, winking at you as he did. “We will!”

You followed Jack out the door. “Really bold of you to assume we’ll have our prom pictures together. Never thought I had other plans?” you asked, messing with him.

“Aw, baby, you got plans to break my heart?”

“Who knows what could happen, Sunshine.”

Jack wrapped his arm around your waist, “Ain’t nothing gonna happen to us. Won’t let it. You’re gonna stick by my side way past prom.”

You shook your head, smiling all the same. “Why are you so sweet on me?”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Hm,” he leaned on his truck, still keeping you close, “I don’t know, sweetheart. You just genuinely make everything better. Just knowing I get to see you on those no good days makes me push through. You’re so kind and genuine even after… everything. As cheesy as it sounds, I kinda do like the idea of getting to wake up to you everyday.”

You blushed brightly, not really expecting that answer. “Everyday?”

“As many as we can fit in darlin’. Wouldn’t be so bad would it? Waking up to my ugly mug.”

“It may take some convincing.”

“I’m plenty patient.”

You couldn’t help the smile, pleased at how he took it in stride. Anyone else would have been upset at hearing that. “How are you always so sure, Daniels?”

“Can’t help it. I know the job I’m gonna work and I know exactly who I want with me. I’m on this ride as long as it takes.”

“C’mon. We’re going to be late sweet talker.”

He opened your door for you, stealing himself a kiss before you could get in the cab. “I mean it, YN.”

All you could manage was a nod. As good as he made you feel, it was still scary. Trust was hard. Commitment is a nightmare. Even if this was going well, you had to keep yourself straight. It had only been a couple months. You were both in your first real relationship, which meant it had to have a touch too sweet and just a bit too perfect. And those rose colored glasses may have skewed the both of you.

But Jack was never pushy. He never pulled away from the too jagged edges, even when they did cut into him. Never put off by the few times you pushed him away. He’d give you your time, let you breathe and you loved that.

You loved that.

The thought alone sent a shiver down your spine. The idea of love and Jack always did. Glancing his way, you knew he was nervous, judging by the way his finger rapt against the steering wheel. Nothing else betrayed him except for that. If you had to guess, how forward he always was with his words always left him somewhat scared that they’d make you run off.

“Jack.”

“Hmm, yeah babygirl?”

“You know how much I care about you right? Even if I do choke saying sweet things back at you.”

The tapping stopped. He gave you a bright smile, “‘Course I do. You let me know with the little things. Those are better than any words.”

Crossing the bench, you leaned your head on his shoulder. “I don’t know when, but I promise one day I’ll be able to.” It was easier to say looking at the passing by trees.

“We’re going at your pace, darlin’. Just knowing is enough.”

“You just come from something so perfect. Sometimes I’m afraid you’ll think I don’t fit into the picture. It’s stupid because you’re so on your sleeve about everything, but I can’t help it sometimes. We’re just so different.”

“But those differences will make us all that much better,” he rebutted in his usual optimistic manner, “I wouldn’t have you any other way. Or this for that matter. It’s good. I’m happy with you.”

“This is such a heavy topic for our first date,” you acknowledged the ridiculousness of the situation. “I’m sorry.”

“No. Don’t apologize. It’s something you’re worried about and we should talk about these kinds of things. Besides, we’ve basically been dating since the first week of school,” he joked, “Look, we’ve been going at this for nearly two months now. Still new, but definitely over the awkward parts. Don’t worry about it.”

“We can talk about things you’re worried about too, you know.”

He sighed, “Honey, you know exactly what it is I’m worried about. Like you say, it’s a couple of months now. I can promise you, I’m not worried about us at all. It’s just that.”

“I’ll be okay,” you promised, “With the gig after school and everything. I’m gonna have a decent stockpile. I’ve been thinking about getting out of there soon enough.”

He squeezed your thigh, his thumb tracing pattern on your skin, “Yeah, I know. The faster you’re out of there, the easier I get to sleep at night. It’s hard not knowing if you’re safe.”

“We’re never safe, Jack,” you sighed, “You don’t have to worry every second we’re apart. I don’t want to be something like that for you.”

“You’re not just that,” he waved off the idea, “But you wouldn’t like it much if I was in your position instead.”

“And then you’d understand that I don’t want to feel like a burden.”

He parked the truck. “Honey, you’re not a burden. If anything, I’m gonna be the burden with how bad I dance.”

“As if. You’re good at nearly everything you do.”

“Nearly?”

“I’m obviously the better kisser in this dynamic.”

“Oh, obviously,” he mocked back, “Get out of my truck.”

You complied, he was quick to join you, giving your hand a gentle squeeze when he took it in his, already leading you toward the dance hall.

“Come on, admit it.”

“Fuck you.”

“You’d like that anyway.”

“I would!”

You laughed at his eagerness, “Who knows where this night could lead, cowboy.”

“Wait, what? Rea-“

“YN!” Georgia squealed excitedly, “You look so pretty! Is that your boyfriend?”

“Georgie!” You hugged her, “He won’t be anymore if you wanna give me a shot. You look jaw dropping.”

“Let me see how it plays out with Sammy. If it’s a dead end I’ll give you a call.”

“I’ll wait up,” you sent a playful wink her way.

“Yeah, I brought you a drink just like you like and I brought some fruit punch for YN,” you heard Vanessa’s sickeningly sweet voice behind you. “Why don’t you have a taste? If it’s not right I’ll make you another.”

“I should get going before Sammy misses me, maybe you’ll save me a dance lover girl.”

“I’ll do that,” you laughed.

You turned to see Jack gulping down a cup. “Yeah, see. It’s perfect thanks.”

“I’m going to go get you another one.”

“No, it’s okay.” His response fell in deaf ears as she turned to go make him another. “That’s the grossest thing I’ve ever had in my life.”

“Got yourself a barmaid?”

“The best I could do seeing you get all friendly with Georgia,” he drank the other cup trying to chase away the taste, “I wasn’t thinking about competition.”

You pulled him by the tie, toward the dance floor. “There’s no competition when I’ve only got eyes for you.”

“Aw, doll, that’s sweet.” He kissed your cheek. “Check this.”

You jumped along to the music, watching him dance. “Oh no,” you laughed, “You’re already a dad. That’s horrible. I love it.”

He smiled brightly at you, “Knew you would.”

The two of you danced happily, enjoying each other’s company. Jack had a lot of potential as a dancer, but your doubts rose when he broke out with the sprinkler. Eventually you ended up in a mixed up of your friend groups. Laughter and snuck in drinks passed all around. Which meant Jack had to struggle down a couple more of Vanessa’s concoctions, too polite to turn them down despite hating the taste.

“I’m cashing in my dances!” Georgia shouted over the music, stealing you away from Jack. “I’ll bring her back after a few.”

It hadn’t been long. Maybe two songs at most. Still, you just couldn’t seem to find Jack. You doubted he had gone far the dance hall was only so big.

“Hey Mikey, have you seen the cowboy?”

“Jack? I saw him with Vanessa. Seemed kinda out of it.”

“I saw them go outside,” Julie cut in.

“What?” You hurried to go see what was happening.

“Jackie boy’s in trouble.”

The group laughed.

Outside you looked toward the car lot. No one but a pack of stoners. Rounding the building, you called out for Jack.

“Can’t,” you heard him slur, “Don't want to.”

“It doesn’t matter to me.”

You could have sworn you heard the sound of a belt unbuckling. “Hey!” You ran, “What the hell are you doing to him.” Rounding the corner, you caught her with a hand stuffed down his pants.

Jack didn’t seem all there but he was definitely distressed. “No baby, please. I didn’t…”

Anger bubbled in your chest. It took over and you pushed Vanessa to the ground already aiming punches at her. There wasn’t much of a fight, she was too much coward to do anything. Even in his state and what had happened, he still attempted to pull you away.

“I never want to see you near him again. You get near him again and that’s it for you.” You only complied because you knew you needed to get him to the truck before he turned to completely dead weight. “You’re a fucking piece of filth.” You called out after her as she ran away.

“Baby, I didn’t want her to. I didn’t ask her to do anything,” he rambled, needing you to believe him.

“Hey, I know. I know. Let’s get you to the truck.” You readjusted his pants and belt to save him the embarrassment if anyone had seen him.

He slumped against you, dragging his feet. You should have taken better care of him. Jack would have kept an eye out for you, he always did. Instead you just assumed he was having fun, glazing over the signs that he wasn’t okay. Avoiding the group, he wouldn’t want people to see him like this, he was too proud, you finally got him to the truck.

“I don’t feel good,” he choked.

“I know, sunshine. I’m sorry. I’ll get you somewhere safe,” you kissed the side of his head before helping him into the truck.

You didn’t really know how to handle the situation. It was a first. Much less did you expect Jack of all people to be in this situation. Honestly, you saw a different outcome for this night. When you jumped back in the truck, you reached into his suit pocket and grabbed his keys.

“Oh,” you took in how tired and rough he looked, “Come here, honey.” You helped him lay down across the bench, his head resting on your thigh. His hat was missing, you made a note to get him a new one.

Obviously, taking him home was out. His parents would probably think he’s out of it drunk, you couldn’t deal with giving them that disappointment of finding out what happened not from him. Your house was laughable. That left the cheap motel across the street from the mom and pop shop. It was the best you could do.

When you parked in the lot, Jack seemed very dazed. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

He nodded weakly.

You got out of the truck and dealt with the motel worker. She handed over a key, looking too tired and overworked to even think about doing more than the transaction.

“Ground rules. Don’t be too loud, if you’re caught selling anything at all I’m calling the cops, and you’re out by 1 p.m. tomorrow.”

“Got it,” you waved her off. Before you made it back to Jack, you unlocked the room door. It would make things easier in the long run. “Hey, handsome, let's get you in the room.”

He groaned, but sat up. “You trust me? Right? You know I didn’t ask her to touch me?”

“Look,” you gave him a chaste kiss, “I trust you more than anyone. She’s not a good person. You don’t have to worry about me thinking anything bad about you. Now, help me get you inside so we can get you through this.”

Jack stood on shaky legs, letting you lead him to the room. When you got in, Jack immediately slumped down into the bed. “I’ll pay for it. My fault.”

“This isn’t your fault. You trusted her and she abused that. We take care of each other, right?” You sat down beside him. “How are you feeling?”

“Keep coming in and out. Nauseous to hell and back. Everything feels so...lagged behind. It feels like a horrible high.”

“Would you mind if I ran to the store? I could grab us a couple of waters, maybe some pills. I don’t know. Something to help. Be useful some.”

“I’ll be alright. I do think I’m going to sit in the bathroom.”

With that, you ran across the street to the store. The older man gave you a disgruntled look for coming in on closing time, but otherwise said nothing. Grabbing a basket, you made your way down the aisles as quick as you could. Sodas, waters, pain pills for him to take in the morning, a couple of snacks, a set of toothbrushes and toothpaste, and some shirts and shorts for both of you to change into. Once that was over and done with, you went back to the motel, leaving the items on the small table.

Jack was gagging in the bathroom, the sound of him being sick loud in the small room. You went over, water bottle in hand. Setting it on the sink counter, you crouched beside him, rubbing his back soothingly. When he was done, he looked at you, tears streaking his face.

“Why would she do that to me?”

“She’s not a good person,” you didn’t know what else to say. You grabbed the towel off the rack, using it to clean up his mouth. “I should've watched out for you more. I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head, laying his head on your shoulder. “Not your fault. We thought it was gonna be a fun night.”

You held him close, just wanting to keep him as safe as you could. All you knew in that moment was you couldn’t handle the idea of someone hurting him again. He was too kind and caring to ever deserve to be hurt. “It was fun,” you said, your hand carding through his hair soothingly, “Between your bad dancing and horrible jokes, I love being with you.”

“Don’t do that,” he mumbled.

“Do what?”

“Please. Please,” he stressed the word, “don’t say that you love me tonight. When I think about the first time… Don't wanna think about it being like this.”

“Okay,” you nodded, “Let’s get you changed then. Get you more comfortable to ride this out.”

You helped him stand back up. Taking him back into the room, you grabbed the clothes from the bag. It was quick work so slide off his suit jacket. Undoing his shirt buttons, you ignored the vomit your hands came across. The care you had for him overcoming the grossness of it. You casted the shirt aside before kneeling down in front of him.

“Help me a bit here sunshine, need to get your boots off.” Jack put a hand on the wall, leaning against it so he wouldn’t fall as he balanced on one foot. You pulled them off quickly. “Is this okay?” You asked him, motioning to his pants.

“You’re okay, darlin’. You know that.”

“Didn’t want to push you, sweetheart.”

Once the both of you were dressed out of your date clothes, you had set a trash can nearby before Jack pulled you on to the bed with him. The tv droned quietly. Jack was resting against your chest. Neither of you would have thought your night would end like this.

#Jack Daniels x reader #agent whiskey x reader

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