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buckybabesonly · 1 year

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Protector

Summary: When Steve gets injured on the field protecting you, Bucky lashes out at you from fear of seeing you in danger, and jealously of Steve’s arms around you.

Pairing: Bucky x Female!Avenger!reader, platonic Steve x Female!Avenger!reader

Genre: Angst, fluff (y'all know we only do happy endings here)

Warnings: Jealous Bucky, Bucky being slightly mean to reader out of over-protectiveness, minor character injury, I’m not very good at writing action scenes I apologize 🙇🏻‍♀️

Word count: 4.2k

A/N: My creative juices are floooowing lately! I have so many ideas saved in my drafts 😭 Please let me know if you liked this one!

"On your feet. Again." Steve’s voice was authoritative, demanding, as per usual. He gestured his hand at you as you lay on your back, skin gleaming with sweat.

You gave him a faux-scowl, the muscles in your legs shaking with exhaustion as you forced yourself to stand, hands bracing themselves on your knees.

"Wait. Need a breather," you said, shaking your head. Your hair was coming loose from your ponytail, and Bucky's fingers itched to neatly sweep the strands back from out of your face.

He watched silently from one side of the room, observing your sparring session with Steve. He was going pretty tough on you, though he told you it was for your own good.

"No breathers out in the field," Steve grunted, tackling you and practically tossing you over his shoulder, but with enough finesse so you landed safely on your butt.

"Hey!" you exclaimed loudly in shock. If you had been looking, you would have seen how Bucky reflexively half-rose from his perch, afraid that you had actually been hurt, until he saw the way you scrunched your nose in annoyance at Steve and bounced back on your feet indignantly.

"I was making a point -" Steve ducked to the side when you launched a fist towards his head, then threw out a sharp roundhouse kick. You just managed to graze the top of his hair, and he laughed jovially.

"Almost. Try again."

Bucky settled back in his seat, feeling slightly uncomfortable as he watched you throw yourself again and again at Steve. Especially when Steve's strong arm encircled your waist, the other one hooking itself under your thigh to throw you onto the ground once more.

He clenched his fist, wishing it was him with his hands on your body instead, and in an entirely different setting.

His excuse for being in the training room was to try and see where your weak spots were and offer you pointers, in hopes that you would improve your hand-to-hand combat. You were an excellent sharpshooter, and could easily defend yourself, but needed to work on your offensive attacks.

Lately, the idea of you attacking someone head on had been making Bucky feel uneasy. Which was ridiculous, since you were part of the team and it was literally your job, but he found that it was affecting his focus out on the field. He felt like he had a constant obligation to look out for you, to protect you.

It seemed like Steve shared the same sentiment. The super soldiers were both oddly protective over you, and it had actually been Steve's idea to up your training in recent months.

The way you moaned as Steve landed a punch in your abdomen made Bucky simultaneously want to rugby tackle his best friend to the ground, and somehow planted sinful thoughts in his head. He knew Steve would never hit you with full-force, however, and made himself to stay put.

"Rogers, I swear one of these days, I'm going to kick your ass," you groaned.

He laughed again, and you took the opportunity to exploit his distraction, using your position on the floor to knock his feet out from under him with surprising force. Your kicked his shins sharply, sending him on his knees, and lunged for him.

You had him on his back for once, finally, and you grinned triumphantly at Bucky. He was mildly perturbed at your position, semi-straddling Steve, but he managed to crack a smile.

Steve finally called it a day half an hour later, leaving you and Bucky alone in the room. You were humming to yourself, stretching out your limbs. Bucky didn’t miss the way you winced slightly.

“Does it hurt?” Bucky asked, tossing you a bottle of water.

“A little, but it’s alright,” you shrugged. You took a sip, eyes sliding over to his form. He was looking particularly handsome today in a pair of form fitting black jeans, heavy boots and his leather jacket zipped up around his torso.

God, this man could be wearing a garbage bag and you would be drooling. From the first day you met him, you had developed a crush on him, hooked by his ruggedly handsome looks and tough exterior. What really made you fall, however, was that surprisingly soft personality hidden underneath. He made you laugh, too, and you loved the way the corners of his eyes creased when he smiled at you. Bucky had easily stolen your heart.

Said heart was continuously fluttering nowadays whenever you were near him, like he was a silly teenage crush. You tried to play it cool.

“So, any tips?”

Soon, you were both grappling at each other playfully, peals of laughter leaving your mouth as you “fought”. Bucky was smiling that darn smile, looking almost childlike as you circled each other.

At some point you ended up on top of him, your hands around his wrists as you pinned them back. He could easily free himself, but he humored you.

“Hah!” you called out.

Bucky’s laughter subsided slowly as he took in the sight of you, panting on top of him. His eyes inadvertently fell to your cleavage, where the swell of your breasts was oh-so-visible from his vantage point, your skimpy tank top doing little to hide your skin.

Mortified, he felt a rush of blood to his groin. He knocked you off swiftly before you could feel anything which would reveal what a pervert he was, coughing loudly to hide his embarassment.

“That’s enough,” he said, surprising you with a change of tone. You felt a little disheartened at the switch-up, confusion settling in.

“Ah, okay,” you said, nodding. He was probably getting tired of your games, knowing how you didn’t like to take everything too seriously. Bucky mumbled something about going to take a shower before he excused himself and left.

Being an Avenger was always going to be life threatening. However, you could think of nothing else you'd rather be doing than fighting alongside your chosen family, trying to make your contribution to the world, even if it meant risking yourself.

You usually considered yourself a solid team player, trusting Steve to make the right call out on the field. Now, you weren't so sure, faintly aware that maybe, just maybe, you had screwed up. Especially in situations like these, lying on concrete with your ears ringing, the metallic taste of blood in your mouth.

Smoke and dust filled your sight. Your mind was scrambled, unable to comprehend what had happened. You couldn't see a thing, but you could feel the pain in your shoulder, and you wondered if you had dislocated it or worse.

The smoke cleared. All of a sudden, Bucky's face appeared, panic clearly written in his eyes.

The pieces were slowly coming together. You suddenly became aware that Steve was lying behind you, shield in hand and positioned above you. You could hear him groaning in mild discomfort. The clanging in your ears were subsiding so you could hear him and Bucky's shouting.

Your disorientation faded, and you realized what had happened. The explosion.

Four S.H.I.E.L.D agents had gone rogue and had secretly been working for HYDRA, who had been spending the past year regaining power and presence. You had been one of the people dispatched to take them down after the team received intel on the location of their base. They had been holed up in an underground bunker beneath an abandoned warehouse, the perfect spot for a group like them.

You weren't even supposed to be in that part of the bunker, but you saw an opportunity to breach their control room, where undoubtedly you would be able to find all sorts of valuable information about what HYDRA was planning, or what terrible projects they had ongoing. Unfortunately, they had been savvier than you thought, and had implemented a safeguard in the event of a security breach.

That safeguard, as it turned out, was explosives.

Steve had found you as soon as he was made aware of what you were doing, and he had appeared no more than 15 seconds before the bombs detonated. If he hadn't been around, you were almost certain you'd be dead.

You barely had time to register Steve's appearance before you suddenly found yourself flying off your feet, Steve a blur of blue as he re-positioned himself to protect you.

"...fuck, will you say something? Are you okay?"

Bucky was screaming in your ear, and you blinked, the haze finally clearing. Alarms were blaring, Steve was back on his feet, scooping you up with ease.

"We need to get back to the Quinjet," you heard Steve bark, and he began sprinting, jumping over rubble with you in his arms, Bucky following close behind.

As soon as you boarded the jet, Steve sat you down and ordered Bucky to tend to you. He was already kneeling at your feet and inspecting your injuries wordlessly. Steve swiftly geared the Quinjet to life, desperate to get them out of the area before anything else went to hell.

"Look at me," Bucky said sharply, his voice rough. You were startled at his tone, his hands brushing your hair back as he inspected your head for any serious injuries. Blood was trickling from your temples, but from what he could tell, they were only shallow cuts. "Where does it hurt?"

"I'm fine," you managed to say faintly, the reality of what had happened slowly sinking in. You had put all of them in danger because of your reckless actions, and Steve had actually been injured because of you. You could see the blood dripping off his fingers as he sat at the console, though from the way he handled himself you knew they could only be minor lacerations.

Your eyes landed on Bucky's face then, scanning him for any signs of injury. He seemed physically unharmed, but his face was bright red and he was shaking with rage as he spoke to you. You were ashamed, knowing that he was furious you put his best friend in danger.

“I told you to stay put,” Bucky snarled, slamming his hand against the back of your seat.

"I - I know," you stuttered, vaguely remembering Bucky's request in your earpiece just moments earlier.

“Why couldn't you just listen? You had to play the fucking hero?"

"Bucky, lay off of her." Steve's warning was stern, and Bucky shot a glare at the back of his head.

"No. She was being stupid," he spat, looking back at you. "What were you thinking? Were you even thinking at all?"

You bristled then, despising his patronizing tone. “You’re one to talk. How many times have you completely gone off script and blindsided us with your decisions?” As soon as the words left your mouth, you knew it was an unfair statement.

He scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. "I don't think you realize what could have happened back there."

You looked at Steve again, guilt consuming you. He was focused on operating the jet, and you knew that he hadn't been seriously hurt, but he could have been. Or, worse, Bucky could have been caught in the explosion. He was lucky not to have been there.

"I'm sorry," you began, but Bucky cut you off.

"You need to take this fucking seriously," he snarled. "You went marching in there blindly, and look what happened."

"I thought I might be able to get something useful," you said weakly.

"Look how well that turned out," he said sarcastically. "You blew everything up."

You recoiled, hurt. You wondered if Bucky was actually upset that you had destroyed a valuable chance to get information on HYDRA. Though how were you supposed to know extracting the information would set off literal bombs? You had been acting quickly, wanting to get in and out. Maybe Bucky blamed you for destroying that chance.

"You can be so fucking stupid and selfish," Bucky exclaimed angrily, lashing out in full force. So reckless, doing whatever you wanted to do, without so much as a thought to how much potential harm you could be putting yourself in.

"That's enough," Steve shouted loudly, his voice angry and booming.

You flinched visibly, biting down hard on your lip to stop yourself from snapping back. Or worse, crying. Bucky walked over to the other side of the jet, away from you.

The feeling was awful. Your shoulder was burning, throat in pain from the smoke you had inhaled, and all Bucky had done was shout. It was surprising, how much your feelings hurt at his outburst.

Bucky was as tense as a statue. His mind was racing as he refused to look at you, thinking of all the worst possibilities. His heart felt as if it had literally skipped a beat the moment he saw you lying in the rubble, seconds after he'd heard the explosion and realized he could no longer hear you in his earpiece - there was a chilling moment amidst the action where he really, genuinely believed you had been killed.

Having you act so blasé about it after the fact infuriated him.

You, on the other hand, felt a heavy weight in your chest as you watched Bucky mutter to himself, the muscle in his jaw twitching. You felt so guilty, feeling so...incapable in Steve and Bucky's presence. Steve had been hurt because of you, and Bucky had every right to be mad at you. Nonetheless, his words cut you deeply.

Stupid and selfish.

The rest of the journey back to the compound was tense and silent. Bucky stared at the wall whilst you stared at the ground. As soon as the jet landed, Bucky stood up with full intention of hoisting you up against his chest to take you to the medical wing, but found Steve standing between you and him instead. Like a barrier, as if he wanted to protect you from Bucky's wrath.

"Let's get you checked out," Steve grunted, his arm once again around your damn waist as you stood.

Even though it was neither the place nor the time, jealously instinctively entered Bucky's bloodstream at the way you leaned on Steve. He wanted to be the one to take care of you, dammit, but all he had achieved was make you avoid his stare.

"Get her head checked out whilst you're at it," Bucky barked. "See if you can find out why she lost all her fucking common sense."

Tears sprang to your eyes when Bucky stormed off the jet, heading into the compound first. It hurt you more than you cared to admit that he hadn't even stayed to see if you were alright.

"He didn't mean that," Steve said quietly.

"He did," you retorted, wincing in pain as you experimentally moved your shoulder. "Shit."

"You alright?"

"Dislocated, I think."

Steve helped you to the medical wing, where you were promptly checked and - yep, dislocated shoulder. No other injuries though, thanks to Steve.

"You saved my life," you said gratefully as Steve stood beside you, wiping dried blood from his hands and face. "Thank you. I'm sorry, as well."

Steve's face was kind yet stern as he moved to stand in front of you. "No need to thank me. But yeah, the way you behaved was kind of reckless."

"I know."

He placed a heavy hand on your good shoulder, squeezing gently. "Get some rest, okay?"

"Do you think Bucky hates me?" you asked suddenly, looking up at Steve searchingly. "You know him best. Do you think he hates me now?"

Steve sighed loudly in a way that planted doubt in your mind despite his answer. "No, of course he doesn't hate you."

"I think he's at least annoyed that I risked your life," you mumbled.

"Okay, first of all, I've been in so many explosions that it's just a regular day at the office, now," Steve said, a slight smile playing on his lips. "Secondly, I think he's just annoyed that you risked your life."

You were dubious, thinking that Steve was just trying to placate you. You recalled how Bucky had glared at you before. If he actually cared, surely he wouldn't have just stalked off like that?

“I think my safety was the last thing on his mind.”

"Get some rest," Steve repeated. "Stop overthinking."

You nodded unconvincingly, all while your thoughts continued to be plagued by a certain dark haired, blue eyed man.

"She okay?" Bucky asked Steve the moment he saw him in the hallway just off the medical wing.

"You could ask her yourself, you know," he said, cocking an eyebrow. When Bucky didn't respond, he offered, "Dislocated her shoulder. Few cuts and bruised ribs. Otherwise, she's fine."

Bucky felt himself let go of a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. He had inspected you pretty closely on the jet and was sure you had been fine, though he was annoyed he didn't realize your shoulder was hurt, however part of him was still fearful. To hear Steve confirm that you were mostly fine was a relief.

"Good," Bucky said brusquely. Steve tilted his head at him, observing his best friend with judgmental eyes. The silence between them spoke volumes. “Shut up," Bucky added.

Your shoulder had been easily maneuvered back into place, though you were confined into a sling and would be for the next few weeks, rendering you useless on the field. That, combined with the gnawing guilt of putting Bucky and Steve in danger, dampened your usually upbeat self.

After being discharged from the medical wing, you had retired to your bedroom and stayed there for the rest of the day. A few mornings later, you left your bedroom at the crack of dawn, startled to see Bucky already making breakfast in the kitchen.

"Oh. Hey," you said meekly, clearing your throat as you made your way to the coffee machine.

He had dark circles under his eyes, and you wondered if he had slept at all. His hair was disheveled, like he had been running his fingers through it, and he had stubble all across his sharp jawline.

Things were weird now after his tirade at you. You considered the two of you to be friends - very good friends, actually. In fact, you would be lying if you said you didn't have a deep-rooted hope that you might become more than friends. But, after Bucky's explosive verbal attack on you, you felt so small standing in front of him. You had avoided him for the past couple of days, afraid of any potential confrontation.

He thinks you’re stupid and selfish, you reminded yourself. Each time his words replayed in your mind, a fresh wave of pain hit you. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about how harsh he’d been for the past few nights whilst in bed, tears slipping down your face and onto your pillow as you tried to sleep.

Your gut twisted in discomfort. You liked Bucky so much, and his admonishing had crushed you somewhat. You wanted him to respect you, didn't want to disappoint him, but you had achieved the opposite.

You turned your back on him and poured yourself a coffee, knowing that if you looked at him for too long, you might start crying. His face was one that you used to love looking at, loved how affectionate he was when he spoke to you, but now you were just scared. You didn’t think you could take it if he snapped at you again.

"Are you okay?" He broke the silence first, and you wondered if he actually genuinely cared about the answer. You really weren’t sure anymore.

"I'm fine," you said, nodding and moving over to the pantry to try and find something to eat. You stretched up to the shelves with your good arm, fingers curling over a bag of croissants but not quite being able to reach.

You felt his presence behind you, his chest pressing against your back softly as he took the pastries down for you, setting them down on the counter.

Bucky watched when you stiffened slightly, and felt a heavy twinge of regret at how he had spoken to you that day. He was already feeling like an ass about it, but now he wondered if you were somehow frightened of him. He knew that he had crossed a line, said some pretty nasty things.

He stepped away from you, clearing his throat loudly to catch your attention. When you half-turned to face him, he spoke.

"Look, I'm sorry about what I said the other day. It was out of line."

He could only see your profile as you bit down on your lower lip, shrugging as if to say no big deal. From the way your eyes were darting about, Bucky could tell you were holding back on your emotions. "It's okay. You were right."

Bucky frowned, watching as you chewed on the inside of your cheek. "What do you mean?"

"What I did was stupid and selfish," you said, your voice quivering. Bucky's lips pressed into a thin line as you continued. "I wasn't thinking, and I put both of you in danger. I'm sorry. You have every right to be angry at me."

Realization hit Bucky like a freight train.

"Hey," he said gently, approaching you again, his hand awkwardly curling around your wrist. He could see your eyes beginning to well up. "Don't get upset." He tilted his head at you, trying to coax you to look at him.

"I'm not," you sniffed, blinking hard in an attempt to rid yourself of your budding tears.

"When I said you were stupid and selfish," Bucky winced at those adjectives now, "I meant I just felt you were stupid to put yourself in danger, and selfish because - well, you didn't even think about what it would do to me."

Your brow furrowed at Bucky's rushed explanation, looking up at him quizically. Your eyes were still glistening, and his heart ached.

"I don't understand."

Bucky made a slightly frustrated noise, releasing your wrist. He planted his hands on the kitchen counter instead, trapping you, your lower back pressed against the marble edge. He sighed loudly, making you swallow nervously.

"Bucky?"

"I care about you," he began, suddenly unable to articulate himself properly as he looked into your eyes. “A lot. As in, a lot."

"Oh-kay..." The syllables were long and drawn out. You were still nonplussed.

"No, you don't get it," Bucky said through gritted teeth. He cast his mind back to the events in the bunker, that same fear creeping into his system. "There was a second where I heard the blast, and I thought you were done for. I was terrified."

Bucky leaned closer, so close that his forehead was almost resting on yours. His eyes fluttered closed. It was easier if he didn’t look at you to voice his feelings.

"There was a very real moment where I thought I lost you, and it was horrible." The unspoken meaning hung in the air. I can't live without you.

His confession made your heart rise in your chest with surprise and disbelief.

"Oh, Bucky." The way you spoke his name made him want to hold you tight. "I had no idea you cared so much," you said softly.

Bucky's eyes snapped open, and they were anguished. "That's the problem. I'm so scared of showing you my feelings that you had no idea I care about you more than anything." He scoffed, shaking his head. "I don't know what I was so afraid of. The idea of you being hurt is infinitely more terrifying than telling you how much I really like you."

“I - really?” His words were black and white, but you were afraid to truly believe them.

“Did you know,” Bucky began, lifting his hand to brush his knuckles against your cheekbone, “how much I want to protect you? Keep you from harm? At first, I didn’t understand it, but then I realized that I was falling for you.” He took a deep breath. “It’s been so long since I felt anything like that for anyone, that I barely recognized what it was.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed down his nerves. He knew he had to tell you how he felt. The way you were gazing at him now in pure adoration was motivation enough.

“I want to be with you, as more than friends.” He let out a soft huff of laughter, like he was amused it had taken him so long to admit something so simple.

You lifted your hand to cup the back of his neck, feeling a renewed confidence and sense of happiness at his words.

“I should have told you long ago how much I like you, too,” you whispered. Bucky's chest swelled in happiness at your admission.

"Would it be okay if I kissed you?" he asked quietly, his eyes flickering down to your lips.

Your reply was to stand on your tip-toes so you could meet his mouth in a kiss, finally doing what you had wanted to do since the moment you met him.

#bucky fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky angst #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fic #bucky fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky imagine #winter soldier

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margotw10bis · 3 months

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Pretty Baby.KNJ [m]

sugardaddy!namjoon x sugarbaby!reader

Genre: smut; short-story

Words: 4.9k

Synopsis: Namjoon is your sugar daddy. However, you can't deny how your heart is jumping in your chest when he calls you his "pretty baby"…

Warnings: rough sex; unprotected sex; anal sex; first anal; oral sex (f. receiving); Namjoon is huge 😳; he loves ass; use of "daddy"

1 → 2 → 3 (Bonus : Memories ; Doubts & Possibilities)

What just happened? Namjoon is so shocked about your demand that he just stays still for several minutes. He has never imagined, in a thousand years, that you, his pretty baby, would put an end at your relationship like that. Were there signs he didn't see? Were you unhappy? He genuinely thought that you liked spending time with him, especially since he started to make efforts to know you better. He even thought that you liked him. But you obviously don't.

He wanted to tell you to change your mind, to think about it, that he could change if you wanted him to, but it would have been selfish. It was already too damn selfish willing to keep you for himself when he was fucking other girls — even if he doesn't anymore.

He thought that something changed the last time you two had sex. It was different, more real. Did he imagine everything? It looks like it since you just stepped out of his office after throwing a bomb at him. Fuck. But then, why would you look so sad? Everything is messed up in his head, he can't think straight.

More than the surprise caused by your announcement, Namjoon feels something truly unpleasant in his chest and he wishes it was just his ego. But it's not. He knows damn well it's his heart. Once again: fuck.

————

"I don't understand you, honestly" Jimin sighs

Yeah, you neither. You regret so, so much what you did yesterday. You clearly let Lisa messing up with your brain. You should have trusted Namjoon rather than her. You were so afraid of being hurt that you pushed him away and you hurt yourself instead. That's fucking stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

"I don't need you to tell me I've fucked up, Jimin. I need you as my best friend to support me and tell me everything is going to be fine" You say with a shaky voice, ready to start crying, again

"Come here" He whispers to hug you and rub your back

"Can I stay here tonight?"

"Of course you can. We are going to watch your favorite show on Netflix and eat some pizzas. How does it sound?"

You look at your best friend and feel so damn lucky to have him. You rub your eyes to get rid off the last tears and get the TV remote.

In another part of the town, Namjoon opens the door of the apartment. Your apartment. He can't just give up like that, without even fighting. But the place is desperately empty. No lights on, no noise. You are simply not here. He still has a ridiculous slight hope when he opens the door of your bedroom. Yet, your face is no where to be seen. Namjoon's heart squeezes. Where the fuck are you?

He is not sure you will show up tonight so he decides to leave and go meet his parents. Maybe he could use some advices from a 40-year married couple.

Namjoon's mom is super excited to see her busy son. It's pretty rare he comes eat with them. But her smiles fades when she notices the look on his face. He looks tired and sad. Defeated. It breaks her heart to see him like this.

They sit in the comfortable and huge sofas of the living room. Every single furniture of their mammoth house is expensive. Namjoon's parents love buying costly things but also giving their money to people who need it. Maybe that's why Namjoon doesn't have any problem with spoiling his sugar babies.

"Can I ask you guys something?" He asks, unsure

"Of course, honey" His mom says

"How did you become a couple? Was it easy?"

His parents share a glance, half surprised half amused. Namjoon has never wanted to hear about love before.

"It was certainly not easy" His dad starts "Your mom is pretty stubborn. I gave her many presents, expensive jewelries and so on. But she didn't care at all. I honestly thought she wasn't interested"

"I didn't care about the money. I cared about him and his feelings. You know, love is not just words but acts too. However, the acts don't have to take the material form of gifts" The woman continues

"So how?" Namjoon asks

"Spending time with each other. Small acts of consideration. Actually, the best acts of love are the simplest ones because they show how sincere you are and that you care about the small details" Her mom answers

Namjoon takes a few moments to think about it. He has shown his affection with presents. Expensive ones, even. But you, you are full of those simple acts of consideration his mom is describing. You made sure he wasn't tired or that he ate well. You changed your shampoo when you noticed Namjoon's scrunched nose at the smell of it even if he didn't say anything about not liking it. You distracted him with a mind-blowing blowjob on the day he lost a huge contract. Fuck, everything you have done the past few months was little acts that made him slowly fall in love with you. But maybe you didn't think Namjoon cared about you too.

"Is this about the girl from the mall?" Namjoon's mom asks carefully

"Yeah, but I'm not sure she really wants to be with me" He replies honestly

"I think she does. The look she was giving you, it doesn't lie, honey"

Those words are what Namjoon needed. Now, he has to find a way to see you again.

————

You have thought about it all day. Should you? It's Namjoon's birthday and you were invited by his mom. But it's also true that you told him you wanted to end things... However, you miss him so bad and it has only been five days.

You check yourself in the mirror. Yes, you have thought about not going but you have still gotten ready. Your heart beats so loud that you wonder how it is not showing through the soft material of your white silk dress — great metaphor of your willing to go back from the start and start on a new page.

It's Namjoon's birthday. And you miss him. And you love him. The only thing holding you back is you and your fear of being hurt. Are going to stay alone your entire life because of that? That would be so pathetic. Fuck, Namjoon gave you so much confidence, where did it go? You would be so disappointed in yourself if you don't at least try. So you fix your mascara for the last time and head to Namjoon's party.

The house is way bigger than you thought, especially because it's in Seoul center. You can't imagine the price of it. You knock on the front door and a fucking butler invites you inside. You are stressed, you can feel your hands shaking. Thankfully, there are no too many people — you guess just family and close friends. That makes you wonder what you are doing here. Everyone is so elegant and, even if you have put on one of your most beautiful dresses, you don't seem to belong here.

"Boring party, isn't it?"

You jolt as a male voice whispers in your ear. You turn your head and meet some very handsome man. He could easy be elected World Wide Handsome. His brown hair looks smooth and his eyes are sparkling with playfulness. Let's not talk about his juicy and plump lips. Fuck, every women must be jealous of it.

On the other side, the stranger is quite amused by your shyness. He also wonders what such a pretty girl is doing it. If his friend Namjoon has you as a friend, Seokjin would be upset and disappointed that he didn't introduce you to him before. Yes, the man is a womanizer but a very picky one: he seems to date only the most beautiful women.

"I'm Seokjin by the way"

"Y/N" You reply, shyly

Seokjin's eyes widen. Are you Y/N? Like the woman his friend can't shut up about lately? Oh, things are about to get interesting... Now he understands Namjoon. You look very pretty in that dress, almost a sexy version of a cute bride. Yep, Namjoon will go crazy when he sees you and the slight shadow of your nipples through the thin and smooth fabric. But for now, he is not here and Seokjin is a flirt.

"I'm honored to meet the most beautiful woman of the night" He says with a seductive tone

You don't really know what to say so you just thank him. Is he flirting? Oh my god, how are you going to escape him?

"It's the glass I wanted to bring to my friend but I rather offer it to a pretty girl" He continues, handing you a glass of champagne

You take it. You need alcohol to gather your courage, especially if Namjoon tells you to go fuck yourself after what happened in his office. You drink the glass one shot.

"Well! You go faster than Dom Toretto!" Seokjin jokes, laughing so loud than a few people turn toward you

His laugh also attracts Namjoon's eye. However, he doesn't see his friend. The only thing that seems to be visible to him is you. You came. And you look so fucking gorgeous. Namjoon recognizes the silk dress, it was his birthday gift for you. It looks so good on you that Namjoon's brain starts picturing you in all kinds of situations — both with and without the dress on. He wonders if it's the kind of dress you would wear for your wedding day. And after your marriage, what you would look like with a baby in your belly, his baby. How proud he would be to have you by his side and how everyone could see you belong to him.

Okay, his brain is definitely sick because those are ridiculous thoughts. You said you didn't want this relationship with him. But, what are you doing here?

Namjoon walks toward you and your heart stops when you see him. He is the definition of handsomeness. And he is wearing a fucking black — Prada it seems — suit with a white shirt. It's the look you prefer on him. This is torture for you, especially if it's the last time you see him.

"Hi" You almost whisper

"Hi" His voice is neutral and you don't know if it's a good thing "Can I talk to you, in private?"

You gulp and nod. Fuck, you are stressing so much. He invites you to follow him and he leads you to his bedroom. A huge place actually with not only a king size bed but also a sofa and a large bookshelf. All the furnitures are matching, even the pattern of the fabric. The color scheme, warm beige with hints of green here and there, is soothing — something you really appreciate right now.

There are so many things you want to say but nothing seems to form on your tongue. You can't look at him. You are so overwhelmed by your feelings that you could cry.

"I'm surprised you're here" Namjoon says

There is no reproach in his voice, he is just sincerely surprised. You can understand. But is it a good or a bad thing?

"I can leave if you want"

'But please don't say you want me to leave' You pray internally

"No, I'm actually glad you're here"

Your heart does a backflip in your chest and you look at him with hope.

"I'm so sorry for what I've said" You say as you are gathering all your courage "I don't want to end the contract"

"But I do"

Your whole body freezes. Your heart stops too, in a painful way. It hurts so bad, like your soul is torn apart. So that's it. It's the end for Namjoon and you. Fuck, you wish you could go back and never went to his office. You would do anything to go back in time.

A breathless 'Oh' leaves your lips, like you have received an uppercut in the stomach — well, it's pretty much what you feel.

Namjoon gets closer and notices your eyes watering. Words are not enough to express what he is feeling so he does what he does best. He captures your lips and kisses you deeply. You moan both in surprise and pleasure. You don't know what the kiss means but you are ready to take whatever he is giving to you if it's the last time you see him.

Namjoon wraps his arms around your small frame. The silk of the dress is so smooth under the tip of his fingers, but not as smooth as your skin. His hands go down and find your ass. He makes sure to lift the fabric and digs his palms into the flesh of your asscheeks. The cold air on your hot skin makes you gasp in pleasure. He growls as he missed it so much.

You pull him closer by grabbing the back of his neck. His lips travel down your jaw and then to the thin skin of your throat. His wet kisses make you shiver and create a pool of arousal between your legs, especially when Namjoon sucks on your skin. A reddish mark adores your neck. Namjoon smiles at it. You are so beautiful, you can't go out without a stamp of him.

Namjoon doesn't stop. He firmly grabs your ass and lifts you up. You wrap your legs around his torso and secure your arms around his large shoulders. You are now higher than him and it gives him the opportunity to dig his face into your breasts. He messily kisses your boobs and captures your harden nipples with his teeth through the fabric of the dress. Namjoon smirks when he notices you don't wear a bra and bites your nipple a little harder, making you whimper. Your head rolls back and you arch your back to give him a better access.

Your soaked pussy also needs friction so you start grinding on his abs. You need him so bad. You are stressed and horny when you think about what you are going to do.

Namjoon walks to his bed and sits on it, you still inside his arms. The new position makes it easier for you to grind on his lap. You can clearly feel his hard-on against your clothed cunt. You tug on his hair to access his lips and you kiss him like there is no tomorrow.

"Damn, baby, you're on fire" He jokes against your lips

"I want you" You moan, there is no better way to say the truth

You pull off and stand up between his muscled legs. You can see lust in Namjoon's brown eyes but also some affection in them. It gives you confidence to carry on. You take off your dress and the sight of your body almost completely bare makes Namjoon's cock twitch in his pants. He can't help but caress himself through the fabric, and his dick gets even harder. You slid down your ridiculously small and wet panties to stand entirely exposed in front of him. You finally take off your heels, your feet thanking you for that. You feel fragile but also proud to have the courage to completely give yourself to the man you love. You will have nothing to regret, even if tonight is the last night you'll ever spend together.

Your breathe is shaky and your hands are sweaty. Fuck, stress makes your legs weak but you have made up your mind way before entering Namjoon's parents' house. You are prepared, both mentally and physically for what is coming. You now have to trust yourself and Namjoon. You turn around and give Namjoon a perfect view of your ass he loves so much. You slightly bend over so he can see both your holes. Your pussy is so wet that Namjoon's breathe on it makes you clench.

"Fuck, baby" Namjoon whispers as it was the most beautiful thing he has ever seen

"It's your birthday present" You say shyly

Namjoon is taken aback. Is it what he is thinking about?

"What do you mean?" He asks, clearing his throat — he wants to be sure he is not over-interpreting

You take a deep breathe and reply.

"You can have my ass tonight"

It's like a dream came true for Namjoon. He has been dreaming about it for months. Your perfect ass. He wanted to stretch it every time he squeezed your cheeks. It must be so fucking tight. Just thinking he will finally be able to dive in it could be enough to make him cum in his pants.

He doesn't waste any time and starts licking your glistening pussy. You moan about how starved he looks. He is literally making out with your pussy and it's so fucking hot. His tongue rolls on your clit, then digs in your entrance to go back to your clit again. It's so good that your legs quiver. At some point, Namjoon takes a fat licking from your sensitive bud to your pussy entrance but continues higher to your other hole.

You whimper as Namjoon takes big laps of it. The new sensation is beyond words. You feel way more sensitive. You have to grab his hair behind you when he enters your pussy with two fingers, still wetting your puckered hole. Namjoon's face is so deep between your asscheeks that it's scandalous but fuck it feels good.

He leaves your hole one second to bite on the flesh of your perfect ass. His fingers pumping into your dripping cunt are delightful, especially when he goes deep and fast, making your legs weak. You can feel some arousal going down your inner thighs.

"Keep going, I'm gonna cum" You moan

Seeing you liking it makes Namjoon so fucking happy. He could eat your ass all day. Your hole is damn soaked right now and Namjoon starts entering it with his tongue. You're so sensitive, you're not sure to can handle it. Namjoon speeds it pace in your pussy and you almost scream. You tighten your fingers in his hair, bringing him deeper against your ass and he growls. Your pussy clenches and Namjoon digs his tongue further in your hole, almost not able to breathe. You know how sinful you look but fuck, Namjoon is tonguing your ass. The wave of bliss you know well in growing inside you but there is something different, something that makes it more powerful and your teased area is more sensitive. You can't hold any longer and you cum on his face and fingers. Choked screams of his name escape from your lips. Namjoon grabs you in his arms to prevent you from falling.

He puts you on his bed delicately as you're coming back down to Earth. He lets you rest a little and take off his clothes.

"Are you sure you want this?" He asks you, kissing your lips tenderly

"Yes, just be gentle" You say

You are crushing everything in him right now. The trust you put in him doesn't only fill his pride but also his heart. He promises: he is going to fuck your ass so good that you won't ever want him to stop.

"Tell me if you want to stop, okay baby?"

He kisses your forehead and spoons you. You feel his large and buff chest against your back but the way he holds you is so sweet that you push your ass closer to his cock with an urged need of feeling him. He places your upper leg a little forward to have a better access to your ass. He also makes sure to bring a good amount of your juices to your hole and to his large cock to lube them.

"I'm going to stretch you a little, I don't want to break you" He whispers in your ears "Yet" He adds playfully to make you laugh

Namjoon slowly pushes one finger in your so tight hole and you gasp. You hold on his other arm wrapped around your waist. He softly starts back and forth moves. It hurts a little but it's also so fucking good.

"Try to relax, it will hurt less" Namjoon says as he pecks your shoulder

You do as he says and you notice how easier it makes for him to finger you. He adds other finger and you almost cum instantly. Fuck, it's so good. You can't even describe how it feels. It's like you can feel him better, deeper. All the sensations are increased.

Namjoon enhances his pace when he sees you feeling more pleasure. He can't wait to put his dick in and to make you cum all over it. Your tight hole is going to feel so good around his length.

"Fuck, I need your cock"

Namjoon is beyond happy to fulfill your wish. He pulls off his fingers and grabs his cock. You feel his tip slightly entering your pussy to gather some of your arousal and then going up to your ass. He pushes to enter you but he is so fucking big.

"Come on, baby, I know you can take it" Namjoon encourages you

You gasp as his tip is inside you. You feel so fucking stretched. Pleasure and pain have never been this connected. You dig your nails deep inside his forearm but he doesn't care: you are fucking taking his cock in your fucking ass. Namjoon caresses your stomach to soothe the pain and keeps kissing your shoulder. He is so gentle you could die.

"Are you okay?"

You nod and Namjoon pushes deeper. You feel every single inch entering you and stretching you. You know he is not entirely in you but you're not sure to take more of him. Namjoon seems to feel it and he slowly pulls over, not completely, to push inside again. You start moaning, louder and louder as Namjoon pounds faster. The pain is still here but the pleasure... Oh god, it's beyond words.

"Fuck, Joonie" You moan as he enters your hole deeper

"You're doing great, baby. It's the best birthday present ever"

He grabs your asscheek and squeezes it hard. He spreads it to look at his dick fucking your ass. Feeling your very tight hole stretched by his huge cock is delightful. Especially when he is the first one. The thought makes his dick twitch inside your ass. He enhances the pace a little when he sees you relaxing and having pleasure. He feels so proud of it, that his cock provides you pleasure. That his cock is fucking your ass. He growls when he realizes it.

"You're so fucking perfect. Your ass feels so good"

The bliss is driving him crazy. He could fuck you so rough that you wouldn't be able to walk for days. But it's your first anal, he can't just destroy you. He grabs your chin to kiss you. Your hand reaches the back of his head. He gives you one hard dick stroke, making you scream his name. You don't even care that other people in the house hear you.

"That's it, scream my name, baby. Tell everyone who fucks you good"

"It's you, Namjoon" You moan loudly

He starts pounding pretty hard and fast in your ass and you're on the edge. Namjoon captures your throat with his large palm. He is almost entirely inside your ass and you feel him so deep. You have never felt so full. You start feeling a huge orgasm building inside you, despite your empty and clenching pussy.

"My pretty baby" He moans when sounds of skins clapping starts filling the room

You're so close to cum. Namjoon looks at your perfect ass taking his cock. Your cheeks get spanked by his thighs and abs every single time. He is not as gentle as at the beginning but he can't hold himself, especially when he notices how fucked up you look. You love his dick in your ass, he can feel it. He swears, he is going to fuck your perfect little ass harder the next time and you will beg for more. The show is so sinful that it spurs Namjoon to push deeper inside your ass, now entirely. He doesn't even know how you manage to take his dick in your tight hole but one thing is sure: you do and you do it fucking well.

"Oh, fuck!" You hiss "I gonna cum"

Namjoon smirks and slaps the side of your ass. You feel your empty pussy clenching. He seems to hear your silent prayers and the hand around your waist goes South to slide two fingers into your cunt, making you groan loudly. You feel so full of him that you can't help tightening your holes. Namjoon is fucking your ass so good. He hides his face in the crook of your neck and hugs you tighter in his arms as he pounds you deeper.

"Cum for me, baby" He whispers, almost begging you as he feels he won't last long

Your hole is too tight and it feels too good to have you in his arms. It feels so good to see how much you trust him — you let him fuck your ass for god's sake!

"Yes, yes!" You scream, loosing your mind over the pleasure

"Fuck, I love your ass" He growls, the vibration echoing into your core

You can't hold on any longer and you cum hard on his cock and his fingers buried deep in your pussy, almost crying of how huge is the wave of pleasure washing over you. You mumble some words you don't even know as you are high. So high, way beyond clouds.

Namjoon pounds a few more times into your tight ass and releases his cum inside. He hugs you so tight, leaving your pussy empty again but still inside your ass, like he is afraid you vanish.

You two stay like that a moment. You can't believe Namjoon just fucked you ass. You also can't believe how much you liked it. You almost fall asleep, you don't want to leave his embrace. You feel good, peaceful. You hum in content and scoot closer into his chest.

"Did you mean it?" He asks suddenly

"What?"

"That you love me"

Your body tenses and your eyes open wide. What? How does he know? You pull over, running at the opposite side of the huge bed. You try to cover your naked body with your hands. You look so panicked, almost terrified.

"It's okay if you didn't mean it" Namjoon reassures you, even though it breaks his heart to see how you are reacting right now

Did you just confessed your love while you were having an orgasm? Well, the best orgasm ever, but still. You're so ashamed. You didn't want to tell him like that. Fuck, when you tell Jimin you said 'I love you' to Namjoon while his dick was in your ass, he is going to laugh so loud...

You are ready to deny it but when you see Namjoon's face, you can't lie. You do love him. You can't keep being a coward and lying to Namjoon and to yourself.

"I meant it. I love you, Namjoon" You confess in a whisper

The silence is killing you. Especially when it's the exact moment you brain chooses to remind you that Namjoon said he wanted to end the contract too.

"That's a good thing" He says, surprising you "Because I love you too"

He gets closer to you and caresses your cheeks. Okay, you have always loved how kind he was after sex but the way he is looking at you right now, it make your heart melt so much it hurts. You can't help kissing him. Namjoon chuckles against your mouth and hugs you tighter. Honestly, he could fuck you again. No, he could make love to you.

"Say it again" You ask

"I love you"

His bright smile with his dimples brings so much happiness to you. Is it possible to die over joy? Because you could right now.

"Okay, there is no contract anymore but I'm not gonna lie, you're still my pretty baby"

You giggle.

"I have to tell you something" You say, pricking his curiosity "I'm jealous so don't you dare having another baby"

"I'm all yours" He reassures you

Like you said, Namjoon has always been honest with you. So you believe him when he says there is nobody else.

"I think we should go back to the party. I can't not showing at my own birthday"

You nod but wince when you sit.

"Are you okay?" Namjoon asks, worried

"Yes, it just hurts a little" You confess, cheeks reddening

Is it bad that he feels proud of it? He wasn't exactly soft but he definitely can get rougher and honestly, he can't wait to pound into your ass again. Or your pussy. He doesn't care as long as he can give you pleasure.

Namjoon helps you standing up and getting dressed. Your beautiful silk dress is now completely crumpled. You pout at it and Namjoon finds you so pretty. Now that he knows you love him, his brain is even crazier than before: images of you in a white dress walking down the wedding hall or of you with a round belly are stuck in his head. But he definitely can't go as fast, he will scare you.

Does that mean that he will wait for years? Absolutely not. His pretty baby better be prepared for her Christmas present. Especially after the best birthday present he has ever had: you saying that you loved him too.

3 → Next

Taglist @gimeow @whoreseok723 @wecanpretendit @missbangtangirl @dprmoon @baechugff @parkinglot-nights

#bts #bts fanfic #bts smut #fanfic #knj smut #knj #knj x reader #kim namjoon #kim namjun #bts namjoon #namjoon #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #sugar daddy fanfic #sugar daddy namjoon #bts rm #rm #rm bts #bangtan rm

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buckyalpine · 9 months

Text

Shapeshifting Bucky

Random thought from the depths of crackfic hell. But imagine an AU where Bucky's time with hydra also included the ability to shape shift on top of his super soldier serum. He can turn into whatever but he really only shifts into a wolf most of the time. Stealthy, huge, strong, agile and an absolute puppy. Werewolf Bucky is the scariest mf to exist. In his wolf form, his fur is nearly jet black, a stark contrast to his beautiful blue eyes. His teeth turn into sharp fangs and his claws could slash through just about anything.

However.

The large furry thing is nothing but a little puppy around you.

Human Bucky struggles to show his affection for you even though he loves you like crazy. He loves touching you but hesitates to do anything. Wolf Bucky has 0 issue hopping onto the sofa he doesn't fit on, attempting to curl up in your lap. He doesn't fit on your lap either and you end up drowning under a heavy mass of dark fur, the chuff he makes as you adjust himself is equivalent to his usual pouty face.

How dare you try and squirm away when he wants pets and cuddles.

And honestly, he's pretty irresistible. Even Tony's found himself petting the soft fur when he walks by, scrunching his face when he realizes who he's petting and cursing to himself immediately after. It's not just Tony either. Most of the Avengers catch themselves mid pet, occasionally shrugging and going back in while shaking their heads at themselves.

That isn't the only thing wolf Bucky enjoys.

“Bucky!” You stare at your boyfriend who was a human last time you left him, now in his wolf form sitting on top of your duffle bag you'd packed for an upcoming mission. There's no way for you to get to it, sitting as its hidden underneath him and it doesn't look like he has any plans on moving. He growls when you try and get closer, daring for you to try and leave when you just got back from a mission earlier in the week.

"Baby, I have to go, you gotta get off" You try to reason with him but he just stares at you with piercing blue eyes. By now you can read his body language and he's not hearing any of it.

Don't think so, stay with me

"C'mon, you know I'll be back soon" You gently scratch the top of his head and he nuzzles into your palm. He tiled his head to the side widening his gaze as best as he could and you couldn't help but giggle at how cute he looked, silently pleading with you.

"Aww, don't give me those puppy eyes Barnes, that's not fair" You coo while he lets out a whine, huffing and resting his head on his front large paws until his ears perk up with a bright idea.

"For fucks sake Bucky!" You laugh incredulously when he picks up the bag with his teeth, shaking the clothes out and burying himself under them, happy to be surrounded by your scent and finding another way to keep you there.

"What’s going on" Steve walked by the room, wondering why you hadn't come to the jet yet, eyes growing wide when he saw what his best friend was up to "What the hell"

"Oh my god" Sam looked over Steve's shoulder, snorting at the way Bucky was now half asleep while you were still in your tac suit but your bag now nearly torn to bits. You shrugged, deciding to give up, looking at the over grown puppy waiting for a belly rub, giving the two men an apologetic smile.

Bucky snuggled happily on top of your clothes, his nose nudging into your hoodie, before closing his eyes, ears twitching contently while your on the phone with Fury, coming up with a lame excuse as to why you couldn't join.

Some other things I imagine for wolf Bucky:

He's the cutest thing ever. Sam nicknamed him Sirius Black and he loves it.

Loves eating meat. Eats a lot in general.

Fiercely loyal

Likes to go on walks

I'm sorry for this, I have a headache, instead of taking an Advil and sleeping, I'm out here giving into my ridiculousness, I'll see myself out.

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wondersinwaynemanor · 3 months

Text

here i go again with "big brother dick grayson strikes again" prompts.

thinking of Dick probably helping his siblings on their first dates and offering to take them to the location.

Dick to Jason: Hey, Little Wing. I know you can take one of your motorcycles, but let me take you. You can just focus on being pretty.

Jason: Shut up, Dick. But, are you sure? I don't know why my hands feel a bit numb-

Dick, takes Jason's hands on his to warm them up and untighten the nerves there: It's okay. I got you. You're okay. It's going to be okay. Don't stress yourself out.

Jason: I know I fucked up many times, Dick. I don't want.. I don't know what to do if I fuck this up.

Dick, brings Jason closer: Shh. You won't, Jay. You're very smart and strong, and so so caring and you don't even realize it it. Ask the kids at the Alley, they idolize you. Roy adores you and everything you do. He knows who you are. And trust me, I'm not that bitter anymore of one of my best friends dating my younger brother.

Jason smiles which warms Dick's heart, making him smile too.

Dick: Plus, we wouldn't want Ollie to think that a Wayne cannot dress up and be romantic right?

Jason grins this time.

Dick to Tim: Timmy, I have a great idea! I'll drive you there. I know you're tired from work already. Just let me know which restaurant then you can rest a bit when we travel there.

Tim: It's okay, Dick. You're also tired from your shift. I'll just let Kon know I'll be late for a few-

Dick: No, no. If you want to rest first, let him know, he'll understand. But I'll still take you.

Tim: But, Dick...

Dick: Nah-uh. I didn't drive you to prom, remember? Let me do this, Baby Bird. And for me to also look out for Lex, just in case he bothers Conner again. We don't want that happening in the middle of your date.

Tim, laughs: Well, Kon will just have to drag Lex's ass to space.

Dick laughs with him.

Dick to Cass: Aww, you look beautiful, Cass. So where you going? Where will you meet Steph?

Cass, fixing her necklace: By her house.

Dick: Great! I already know where that is. I'll drive you there. We don't want to ruin your beauty. I mean, that's totally impossible, but I want you to just relax before the date.

Cass, blushes: I can do it.

Dick: Of course, you can. But I want to. Pretty please, pretty please. I'm a little protective over my sister.

Cass, rolls her eyes fondly but smiles: Of course. Thank you.

Dick: You're most welcome. And tell Steph if she does something extreme like set some fireworks, tell her to lay off with those energy drinks she started on her diet.

Dick to Duke: Little D, Little D! Don't even try to say no cus maybe your brothers and sister have already told you, but this is kinda my tradition now. I'm taking you to your first date.

Duke: They did tell me. But, Dick.. I don't want to be a burden. Weren't you injured-

Dick: No, no. That was like last week. I'm good. As long as you're good with me to take you, right? Now, I don't want to be the burden.

Duke, smiles: Never.

Dick, smiles and gives Duke a side hug: Then you're never a burden too, Little D. A big bro has to look out for the younger ones. Plus, I can say that you dressing up nice comes from my influence.

Duke, chuckles: Who else am I looking up to, right?

Dick to Damian: Shush, Dami. I know you're dating a super, and he can come and get you without a minute to spare, but tell Jon I'll be taking you.

Damian: Richard, please. I'm already at the right age.

Dick, puts a hand on his little (not so anymore) brother's shoulder and he refuses not to tear up (he fails ofc): I know, you've grown up so much, Dami. So much, since I made you Robin. But please, it will make me really happy to do this. It will give me peace, in some way. It sounds ridiculous, but yes.

Damian, doesn't even try to hide the fond he has on his face: Alright, Richard. I'll let Jon know.

Dick: He's not taking you somewhere out of Gotham or Metropolis, right? Cus then we'll have to take the Batplane.

Damian, chuckles: It's in Metropolis, don't worry.

Dick: Phew. I was as nervous as the time I took Tim on his date.

so....

maybe after a few years on Dick and Wally's wedding day, Dick's younger siblings will be walking with him on the aisle by his side and Bruce, their Father, on his other side of course. and they're thankful that the aisle is wide enough to fit the whole Wayne kids. Dick is a crying mess and he hasn't even reached Wally yet by the end of the aisle. because he's genuinely happy to have his siblings take him to the love of his life this time.

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 months

Note

wibta if i refused to cover up in front of my friend?

NSFW WARNING

all of us are adult men in our 20s. i’ve never been super sexually active in my life, i’ve had maybe like… one or two hook ups before this. but i got a boyfriend, and obviously my sex life has ticked up as a result

now i don’t want to give a bunch of details, but my boyfriend is very… bitey? for lack of a better word? he scratches me a lot, too. i don’t mind at all but i always come out pretty marked up by the end of things, and since we’re active they’re never really gone

me and my best friend were hanging out recently and he pointed out the scratches and asked what happened. i sort of sheepishly explained and he just went “oh” and apologized for prying, and then moved on, but he kept looking at my arms and was clearly uncomfortable. for a few weeks every time we’re in the same room he’s shifting around and glancing at me. he starts acting weird around my boyfriend, too, being really curt with him. i finally ask him what’s up over text and he tells me he finds it super awkward and embarrassing for him to have to see the marks and “know what caused them” and he asked if i’d consider wearing longer sleeves and higher necklines and stuff to cover them up

i didn’t know what to say so i said “maybe?” and haven’t texted him back since, but honestly i… don’t want to? i could be the asshole here because i don’t mind longer sleeves but i’ve always vastly preferred short sleeves and lower necklines. i think it’s way more comfortable. but that sort of feels like i’m just prioritizing my comfort over his

on the flip side, as much as i love the guy, i feel like it’s not my problem if he suddenly can’t look at me without thinking about my sex life, nor is it my fault that he feels weird about the idea of me having sex. i also kind of think the idea of adhering to a certain dress code around my best friend is ridiculous. it’s not like i’d be able to wear sweaters all the time

just in case anyone is worried, all of us are queer so i don’t think it’s the fact i’m having sex with a guy that’s bothering him. i think he just feels awkward about sex and affection in general. but, again, we’re all adults, so i almost feel like he needs to… get used to it. i respect if he doesn’t want to have sex but it’s silly and feels childish to try and pretend i’m not having sex

i considered asking my boyfriend to try and avoid leaving marks on my arms and shoulders and such, but i’m not fond of that idea, either. i don’t think i should have to modify my sex life for a guy who’s not involved in it, even if he’s my best friend. but am i, like… getting him involved anyway by letting him see the marks? would i be an asshole if i told him i’m not going to change the way i dress for him?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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stevieharringtonwifeguy · 1 year

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after my post about steve being just as obsessed with eddie as he is with him, i had to write something for it. with a little extra transfem!stevie flavour bc i have a serious problem

also on ao3 here

Robin has had enough. She’s spent all this time telling Stevie she’d always be there for her, but this is where she draws the line.

Stevie’s staring at Eddie Munson again.

Robin looked up from her shitty cafeteria food when she heard a dreamy sigh come from her best friend. Stevie had that look on her face again, the hopelessly besotted one that made Robin sure cartoony little love hearts would start popping up next to her head. Robin followed her eyeline and, yep, there was Eddie Munson, super-senior leader of the dungeons and dragons club, sticking carrot sticks up his nose to the uproarious laughter of his group of nerd friends. Robin shook her head in appalled fascination.

“Stevie. Babes. Why.”

Stevie turned towards her, tilting her head in confusion. “Huh? Why what?”

Robin waved a hand towards Eddie’s table. “Your obsession with Eddie Munson. It baffles me.”

“Wh- I mean-” Stevie flushed, looking back across the cafeteria with a shy little smile. “Just look at him, Robs.”

“Yeah, I’m looking. He’s trying to sneeze out a carrot stick he got stuck in his nose.”

Stevie giggled. “I know, he’s so funny!”

Shaking her head, Robin placed a delicate hand on her friend’s arm. “You don’t have to do this, y’know. I know pickings have been slim since you came out, but like. You’re still a catch! You have options!”

Stevie frowns. Robin hadn’t wanted to say it, but she knew Stevie had taken her ‘fall from grace’ after she transitioned pretty hard. She’d gone from King of Hawkins High to near social untouchable, and the whiplash had her privately confessing to Robin that sometimes she felt unlovable, like no one would ever want her again. It was ridiculous, but Robin understood that insecurity. She combatted it by complimenting Stevie whenever she could. And now by trying to dissuade her best friend from falling ass over tits in love with the first weirdo to be nice to her post-transition.

“It’s not that. He’s just so…” Stevie waved her hands around vaguely, searching for a word to accurately describe the apparent wonder that was Eddie Munson. Across the cafeteria, Eddie finally got the carrot stick out of his nose. He threw it towards the bin a foot away and missed, spectacularly. “He’s himself. It’s nice.”

“He’s himself.”

“Yeah! Like, he’s passionate about everything he does, and he’s not afraid of being judged for anything. It’s nice! Most people aren’t like that.”

“Most people are definitely not like Eddie Munson.”

Stevie rolled her eyes at her friend’s flat tone. “Plus, he’s super hot. And you can’t say anything about that one- you’re too gay to be an accurate judge.”

Robin groaned. “Steph, he dresses like an 80s vampire.”

“He has a distinct style!”

“It’s distinct alright- hey!”

Stevie had apparently had enough of Robin’s bitching, reaching over and trapping her in a loving sisterly headlock. They scrapped for a couple minutes, nearly knocking both their lunches off the cafeteria table, before being interrupted with a light cough.

Both girls looked up, Stevie immediately blushing a gentle pink as Eddie Munson appeared before them. He seemed nervous, fiddling with his rings and chewing on his lip. Robin watched the two stare at each other, and oh god. Eddie was down just as bad as Stevie was. He giggled a little manically at Stevie’s attention, pulling a lock of hair in front of his face and hiding behind it.

“Hi, Eddie,” Stevie said in a little breathless tone that had Robin about five seconds away from face-palming. She considered pulling out her phone and recording this conversation, just so that next time Dustin implied Stevie was some kind of goddess of romance Robin could show him the dumb little face she made as she stared at Eddie Munson’s chapped lips. “What’s up?”

Eddie smiled, shuffling his feet a little. “Um, so, my band is playing this Thursday- oh! Wait, I got you something-” He rummaged around in his bag for a second, cursing under his breath, before he finally pulled out a slightly crumpled looking sunflower and presented it to Stevie with a flourish. “A sunflower! Just reminded me of you- because you’re so sunny. Also it kind of matches that sweater you like.”

Stevie’s grin was blinding. She took the flower like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “Oh my god! This is- Eddie this is beautiful!”

Eddie grinned and bounced on the balls of his feet a little bit, as if Stevie’s acceptance of his gift had filled him with so much happiness he was in danger of floating away. It was, unfortunately, the cutest thing Robin had ever seen.

“A beautiful flower for a beautiful girl,” he said, and the cringiness of the line had Robin taking back every positive thing she’d ever thought about him. Stevie seemed to enjoy it though, if the pleased blush that spread over her face was any indication. “But I wanted to ask you- totally cool if not, I know it’s not really your style- but I’ve been practising some new songs for y- I’ve been practising some new songs. So, yeah, if you wanted-”

“Eddie,” Stevie interrupted, smiling up at him and placing a gentle hand on his arm. Eddie turned bright red. “Thursday, right? It sounds fun, I’d love to come watch you play.”

“Really? Great! I can pick you up at seven?”

Stevie nodded happily, bringing the sunflower to her face and turning back to Eddie with another besotted grin. “Seven sounds perfect! I’ll see you then! Just let me- I’m gonna go put this in my locker so it doesn’t get squished, but- yeah, I’m really looking forward to it!”

Stevie stood up, grabbing her bag, and hurrying out of the cafeteria. When she reached the door, she turned back and gave Eddie a happy little wave, which he returned with a sort of dazed look on his face. As soon as she was out of the door, he did a weird little jump/fist-bump combination with a loud whoop that had everyone in the immediate vicinity looking over at him.

Robin cleared her throat pointedly.

Eddie looked at her with a sort of deer-in-headlights expression that honestly she appreciated. Let him be scared of her. “So,” she said. “You’re taking my best friend out.”

Eddie blushed a bit, smiling despite his apparent survival instinct. “Yeah,” he said, dreamily. “God, she’s so out of my league.”

“She is.”

“She’s just so… wow.”

“Eloquent.”

“One time I saw her bodily lift that curly-haired kid she babysits out of the way of a car. Like fully carry him a foot off the ground for five steps. And then yell at him for like ten minutes for being a dumbass. What a woman.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh, shit,” he said, looking down at Robin with a panicked look on his face. “You’re like, her sister basically, right? Was I supposed to get your permission to ask her out? Wait, no, that’s marriage. Later, then.”

“Okay, that’s enough of this,” Robin said, throwing her hands up and stalking out of the cafeteria, leaving a befuddled looking Eddie behind her.

They were just as bad as each other. Robin had a feeling she’d be cringing at those two at their wedding.

#steddie #transfem steve harrington #stevie harrington #eddie munson #platonic stobin #also keen eyed readers may notice how much i stole from the notes of that post everyone is so right and hilarious #my fics

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slutforsilverfoxes · 8 months

Text

Oliver and His Company

[A/N: This can be read as a standalone, but if you want context on Aaron & reader’s relationship, find their story here and here! Enjoy 🖤]

4 times Aaron Hotchner refused to admit that he’s a cat person…

1) A Spicy Upgrade

“I swear, Em, it was like an out of body experience,” you tell your best friend through the phone tucked between your ear and shoulder as you balance grocery bags in one hand and fish your keys out of your pocket with the other.

“So everything was just backwards?” Emily laughs.

“Yes!” you cry, equal parts miffed by your dream and excited to have somehow slotted the key into the lock in the correct orientation without looking. “Pen was, like, fifty shades of beige, and everyone else was super bright and colorful! Hotch was wearing a suit worthy of Elle Woods herself,” you assert.

“I would pay a stupid amount of money to see that,” your best friend snickers. “Can we please get him a pink suit?”

“Not gonna lie, he looked pretty hot,” you muse quietly as you shuffle down the hall to the kitchen. “I’ll work on…that…”

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you answer immediately, sorry to have worried her. “Just found my man in an interesting position. Call you later, love you, bye,” you rush out in a whisper, ending the call and snapping a photo for your personal album before the opportunity disappears. Clearing your throat, you place the last of the grocery bags on the counter with a solid thud. “Whatcha doin’ down there?”

Aaron’s answer is muffled given the fact his head is currently in the spice cabinet, the rest of his tall form tucked under him, ass comically up in the air for better leverage. You bend down with a groan and open the adjacent cabinet to pop your head in, meeting his sheepish smile and reddening cheeks. Pressing your lips to his, you murmur, “I didn’t quite get that.“

“I said-” He pauses to capture your lips in another sweet kiss, and the butterflies that have taken up residence in your belly since the first day you met Aaron Hotchner stir to life. “I read online that it’s easier for cats to open doors with handles than knobs, so I’m fixing all the doors before you move in.”

“You’re what?” You bump your head against the top of the cabinet in shock, letting out a harsh curse that you’re glad Jack isn’t around to hear.

“Oh, honey,” Aaron tuts softly, unfolding himself from his spot to help you out and delicately rubbing the tender area on the back of your head.

“You- by yourself- you’re swapping out every single handle in this house for Oliver?” You don’t mean to sound incredulous, but there’s no way this man is real. Then again, he bought this house six months into your relationship so that you could each have an office space and ample room for Jack and one or two additional little Hotchners to grow up- although he hadn’t divulged the latter part of that plan to you when he gifted you a key.

“I know it sounds ridiculous-”

“No,” you cut him off immediately, molding your palms against his cheeks to pull him in for a kiss, your lips quirking up in a victorious grin. “It sounds like something a loving cat dad would do.”

Aaron scoffs before muttering, “Just don’t want him getting stuck, that’s all.”

“Right,” you draw out the word, one eyebrow raised playfully. “Totally not cause you’re a cat person. And that’s why I spotted an empty box sporting a picture of a cat tree as tall as you in the garage?”

“I never said I dislike cats, I’m just a dog guy!” Aaron insists, his words falling on deaf ears as you playfully hum a tune from The Aristocats while arranging the groceries in the fridge and he returns to his project.

2) A Sleepy Surprise

Toeing your shoes off in the mud room, you call out, “Boys? I’m home!” The novelty of getting to say those words has yet to wear off even though the last of your moving boxes are piled up on the curb, waiting to be recycled.

There’s no answering pitter patter of feet in the hallway nor voices greeting your arrival, but the sneakers lined up next to yours- one large pair in understated colors, one much smaller pair with Darth Vader on one shoe and Luke Skywalker on the other- tell you your little family is definitely home. You place your car keys on their designated hook before making your way down the hall, pausing at the threshold of the living room with a smile on your face at the sight before you.

Aaron’s lying on his back, his tall form taking up the entire length of the couch, with Jack tucked into his side and an orange ball of fur curled up on his chest, rising and falling with each peaceful breath of his. You let out a content sigh, warmth blooming in your chest from the overwhelming sense of comfort and love these three have brought into your life. Holding your hair back so it doesn’t tickle your darling boy’s face, you press a delicate kiss to his cheek and his mouth turns upward for the briefest of moments. Then you nuzzle your nose against the soft fur between your cat’s ears, and he stirs with a half-hearted chirp before curling up even tighter on his literal man-made bed.

“You’re home,” Aaron murmurs, his voice thick with sleep.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” you whisper with a guilty pout, carding your fingers through his hair. “Go back to sleep. I’m going to make dinner.”

He grabs your hand before you can get too far, and you turn back to find just who exactly Jack inherited the puppy dog eyes from. “We can order in tonight. Stay with me?”

You gesture to the full couch and ask, “Where?”

Aaron tips his chin down to see Oliver purring contentedly on his chest, and he taps his head until the cat sits up with bleary eyes. “You’re in your mom’s spot.”

You stifle a laugh as your cat pointedly yawns in your boyfriend’s face, then takes his time using Aaron’s solid body to stretch before flouncing away in search of a bed with less attitude. Aaron looks up at you with a self-satisfied grin and pats the newly vacated space. Shaking your head as you ease yourself down to lay across his body, you chide, “That was mean.”

“Never too young to learn about sharing,” he pontificates.

“Mm, yes, what a poignant lesson from father to son,” you respond, voice muffled against Aaron’s chest.

“Step-cat, at best. And don’t you even say it- I’m not a cat person.”

“Sure, babe.”

3) A New Purr-spective

“Jack-Jack,” you call out with a knock against the doorframe to get the little Hotchner’s attention. He looks up from his latest art project with a smile and says, “Yeah?”

“Daddy washed your uniform so you’re all set for tomorrow’s game. And I wanted to ask you about…this,” you offer hesitantly, flipping the shirt in your hands around so he can see Hotchner displayed at the top and the number matching his jersey. “Would it be okay if I wore this so we can match?”

“Does Daddy have one, too?” His excitement- and nonchalance about you sporting their last name- has relief flooding through you, and you mirror his eager smile.

“Of course! Except his is even cooler cause it says ‘Coach’ on the front,” you respond with a click of your teeth. “I made one for Uncle Dave, too!”

“Awesome. You’re the best!” Jack proclaims.

“No, you are.”

“Nu uh, you,” he insists.

“Nope! You!” You let the word be drawn out as you make your escape down the hall, peals of laughter from Jack’s room echoing behind you.

“I have received official approval to wear my shirt,” you announce as you cross into the master bedroom, only to find the space empty. You can hear Aaron’s voice in hushed tones from the walk-in closet, so you approach quietly thinking that he’s on the phone.

“…not exactly your textbook psychopath, right?” He pauses, then continues, “Right. So there must be a piece of the profile we’re missing, something that explains the evolution of the kills with the alarming disorganization of the crime scenes. Do you think we could be dealing with two unsubs?”

Aaron’s phone is on the bedside table, and he’s using both hands to wrestle one of his dress shirts onto a hanger. Then, you spot his silent partner- Oliver’s sitting in his bed, in the nook that Aaron built into the closet for him, languidly cleaning his paws as your boyfriend theorizes aloud.

“So,” you start, crossing your arms and leaning against the wide doorframe, “you still maintain that you’re not a cat person?”

You can see the back of Aaron’s neck turning red at having been caught, but he studiously carries on putting the clean laundry away. Without turning to face you, he asserts, “I’m just… using him as a soundboard. Animals are excellent judges of character.”

“Congratulations, Ollie,” you offer proudly to your son, “you’re the very first cat to join the Behavioral Analysis Mew-nit.”

“Now that’s bad, even for you,” Aaron chuckles, and you bark out a, “Hey!” with faux umbrage. “When are you going to admit you love this cat?”

“I do love this cat,” your boyfriend counters, finally turning to face you. He curls his arm around your waist to pull you against him and speaks between kisses dotted along your nose and cheeks, “I’m just not a cat person.”

Smoothing your hands across his chest with playfully narrowed eyes, you mutter, “The Hotchner doth protest too much, methinks.”

4) Paw-sitively Whipped

“Bedtime, my little bubbas,” you raise your voice to be heard over the churning of the dishwasher as it starts up, drying your hands on a towel while you walk into the living room. Jack is sprawled out on the floor, flicking a feather toy on a stick back and forth that has Ollie frantically giving chase. You’re honestly not sure which little guy is more entertained by the game. “But I’m helping Oliver get his exercise! Daddy says he’s looking chunky lately,” Jack negotiates.

You and your cat turn to Aaron in unison, the man in question suddenly engrossed in an article on his phone. “Daddy’s lawyer genes certainly passed on to you, huh, Jack?” The little Hotchner grins proudly up at you in response, but even that sweet face doesn’t break your resolve. “C’mon, my love, we left off at a really good cliffhanger last night, remember?”

“You’re right,” Jack gasps, suddenly inspired to get ready for bed. “I’ll be ready in two minutes!”

“Make it three- you need to brush your teeth for a full two, Jack,” Aaron calls as he zooms past you to his bathroom.

“Okay!”

“Alright, Weight Watchers,” you snort, tweaking Aaron’s nose while he looks up at you sheepishly, “who’s on reading duty tonight?”

“I’ve got it,” he declares, tugging on your hand to guide you into his open lap. You settle against him with a sigh, nuzzling into the crook of his neck and pressing lazy kisses to his skin. Aaron turns his head to capture your lips in a sweet kiss that quickly grows more heated, and you let out a whimper when he cups the back of your neck to hold you more firmly to him until Jack’s little voice rings out down the hall.

“I’m ready for bed!”

“And that’s your cue, Daddy,” you laugh, patting his chest fondly before detaching yourself from him.

“We’ll pick this up later,” he declares in a murmur, and you can’t resist a smack to his shapely ass before parting ways in the hall.

You run through your own nightly routine, then make your way back to Jack’s room to say goodnight. You find Aaron with his son settled on his lap as he reads, and Ollie is settled on his favorite boy’s lap, purring up a storm. Your boyfriend is absentmindedly scratching his chin, pausing only to turn to the next page in the book. Then Aaron shifts to hold the book with both hands, and Ollie bats at his arm until he relents and resumes petting him. He looks up to find you standing in the doorway, the ghost of a smirk twitching at your lips, and you mouth, You are so a cat person.

He smiles back and shakes his head in response, refusing to give in.

…and the 1 time he finally did.

When you open the front door, you’re surprised to find the house dark. Given your shared line of work and healthy dose of paranoia, you and Aaron always leave at least one light on when the house is empty. But then you hear Jack giggle, “She’s coming!” and Aaron quietly shushing him, and a smile graces your face at whatever adorable surprise awaits you.

You flip on the light to find the foyer decorated with balloons dancing across the ceiling and streamers hanging down, each one adorned with pictures of you and Aaron, you and Jack, and your little family together. Your eyes immediately well up with tears seeing all the memories you’ve created and thinking about all the love you’ve been blessed with thanks to this family.

You walk through, awestruck, touching the Polaroids and printed pictures as you pass them. By the time you reach the living room and your eyes settle on Aaron with Jack standing pressed against his leg, your little boy holding your cat in his arms, you’re damn near sobbing.

“This is why you sent me to get my nails done, huh?” you ask through a half sniffle, half laugh. “You boys certainly were busy.”

Aaron smiles at you and holds out his free hand, and you grab onto him like a lifeline, letting him pull you in before bending down to press a flurry of kisses along Jack’s squishy cheeks. Ollie lets out a squeak of protest in the same timbre as Jack’s ticklish giggle, and you relent your attack with a pleased grin.

“Jack has a very important question to ask you,” Aaron murmurs, then winks at his son.

Jack raises Ollie up as high as he can, not unlike the scene out of The Lion King, and a glint of light flashes at you from your cat’s collar.

“Aaron,” you breathe out, moments before Jack excitedly asks, “Will you marry us, Y/N?”

“Nothing would make me happier,” you answer softly, looking up at Aaron as if he hung all the stars in the sky to find your adoring gaze reflected in his eyes.

—————

Lying in bed that night tangled up between the sheets and Aaron’s legs, you absentmindedly trail your fingers across his chest and muse, “Mighty interesting that a vehemently self-proclaimed not cat person would use a cat to propose, isn’t it?”

“You’re still on this, hm?” he murmurs from above you, and you can hear the smirk in his voice.

“Merely making an observation,” you answer back lazily, then roll over until you body is nestled between his legs, your hands pressed against his chest so you can look at him directly. “I lied, I’m still on this,” you concede with a playful grin. “Look me in my eyes and tell me you’re not a cat person, Aaron Hotchner.”

He hums, then leans up to capture your lips in a series of soft, slow kisses that nearly make you forget your name, let alone the challenge you’ve posed. “Can’t do that, honey,” he finally admits between pecking your lips.

“Cause you are!”

He laughs, his fingers ghosting up and down your spine. Aaron notices you shiver under his touch and pulls the sheets up higher on your body while you settle against the warmth and security of his broad chest. “Honestly, I have been since day one.”

“Oh yeah?” You attempt to goad him, but your sass come out muffled thanks to your lips pressed to his skin.

“Well, yeah,” he shrugs nonchalantly as if you haven’t been lovingly arguing about this for over a year now. “He was your cat, and I’m a you person.”

Pushing against him to stretch up and level him with a raised eyebrow, you clarify, “Wait. He was my cat?”

“Of course, sweetheart. Now Ollie’s ours.”

“Everybody thinks you’re such a hardass, but you’re really a big teddy bear, Aaron,” you tease before pressing your lips to his.

“I’m admittedly both,” he concedes with a chuckle, pausing to kiss you again before adding, “and a reformed cat person.”

—————

[A/N: I absolutely adored writing these two and I enjoyed getting to sprinkle in a healthy dose of cat puns 😂 Thank you all for reading!]

AH tags 🖤 @gothwifehotchner

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gyll-yee-haw · 4 months

Note

Hi! i just had a great idea ok ok so what if you did like a 7 minutes in heaven with one of jakes characters? (detective loki? mysterio, literally whoever you want)

Yeah but what about all of the options above 🤭

I selected a few of my faves <3

Characters: detective Loki, Quentin Beck, Billy Hope and Donnie Darko

Warnings: kissing, fluff, some nsfw, fingering, they all kinda end suggestively, y'all might accuse me of favoritism cause Dave's got the biggest one (he IS my fave, sorry)

---

Detective Loki

100% would act like he thought games were stupid, but the MINUTE he was set up with you to go to the tiny room, would get butterflies in his stomach

I'm thinking like college student! David? Who's like super shy and doesn't have many friends, never talks to anyone, but has a massive crush on you

The moment you walked in and closed the door, he would immediately get nervous and start babbling "this is so stupid, we don't have to do anything, we could just wait here and..."

But he had no idea you were obsessed with that handsome mysterious guy who wore too much black and only ever smiled at you

"I know. It's okay if you don't want to, but..." You gave him your best doe eyes. "But I... just didn't wanna waste the opportunity"

His eyes widened. But he recovered from the shock pretty quick, getting closer to you

You smirked and leaned towards him

And you just know he's a face grabber, oh he is

Stroking your cheek gently as his tongue danced sensually with yours

Suddenly your body was against his, his hands on your waist

And the clock accused that the quickest 7 minutes of your life had passed

You two left the room straight to your dorm...

Quentin Beck

The way he is, he probably planned it for weeks and found a way to manipulate the game so he would end up with you

Ugh he's so cocky about it

Already grabbing your ass on the way to the room

Would tease you non-stop, drive you crazy

Whisper the filthiest things to you mid kisses

Would find a way to get 7 more minutes, even of he had to KILL someone

Billy Hope

Straight to the point, he's gonna finger you in there

Bring you so so so close, just to edge you

"Aw no, baby, looks like time is up" he would say with that shit eating grin

You would find a way to go in there with someone else after, to make him jealous

"What's wrong? It's just a game :)"

Yeah man, you would regret that afterwards...

He would have to show you that you belong to him, by making you cum until you couldn't feel your body anymore

"What's wrong, baby? Didn't you put on that ridiculous show because you wanted to cum? Well, take it now"

Yeah :)))

Donnie Darko

WOULDN'T IT BE CUTE IF IT WAS HIS FIRST KISS

And he had this MASSIVE crush on you, so his friends would set you up

He would be so nervous :(

But when the time came, he knew it was HIS CHANCE

And he blew your mind

Such a great kisser

Such a sweet boy <3

You left the place absolutely in love with him!

The two of you were never apart again, his friends almost regretted it

He's so clingy bf material, I love him 🥺

#jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal fanfic #donnie darko #donnie darko x reader #detective loki #billy hope #quentin beck

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1d1195 · 9 months

Text

Protection III

Hi hi, here’s part 3. I am focusing deeply on the word ‘protection’ today. You can read the rest here: Protection

I am going to spoil the plot a bit by way of warning, but I want to be super up front about it. ***A horrible guy is going slip something in her drink about a third of the way through. Nothing awful is going to happen to her—she doesn’t even leave the bar with him (not with Harry around) but I want to make sure everyone is aware before you read. Please only read if you feel safe to do so.*** Men are the worst. Except Harry. Obvi. Otherwise this is going to be a little angsty and a little fluffy/comforting? That's the best way I can describe it.

My aim in these beginning parts is to really establish their little relationship they have going. A lot of that entails what she needs protection from--which happens to mainly be stupid men. I'm really aiming to contrast how lovely Harry is by comparison.

~6.1k words

Harry looked briefly at his hand on her shoulder. He didn’t miss the way she flinched as he touched her. Then flicked his gaze back up at him. “Take your hand off her yourself, or I will take it off for you.”

On this particular Friday, Harry was a mere three seats from her. Still at the end of the bar. Normally, she was at a table or dancing with her friends, so Harry was far out of view and earshot. He paid no attention to her or the many guys that were fighting for her affection. He thought it was funny to see the action up close. There was a secret message hidden in her eyes that one of her girlfriends seemed to know implicitly and she would come to her rescue, getting rid of the men surrounding her.

Harry scrolled through his phone, nursing his glass of soda water pretending it was gin and tonic with a lime. All the while, straining to listen to the dull roar of the crowd to hear the names of the people that dropped into her lap so he could run them through a background check.

She had to give credit where credit was due. Harry never looked miserable when he was out and about with her. He never told her no either—at least regarding where they could go. There was never a moment of the place was too sketchy. He let her figure that out, which in a weird way was comforting. If it was sketchy, with a previous agent, she was pretty sure she would stand her ground and stay there. Even if she felt weird. Now, she would simply look at Harry and he would hold the door open for her as they left.

“Hey,” this guy had pristinely coiffed hair. Like it was sprayed into place. She noted that his green pants had little blue whales embroidered on them—the same blue that matched his polo. It was like he just set foot off a yacht.

She had met his type several times over the years. He was definitely not the guy she wanted to be around. She missed his name as she thought about the last time she was forced to be with her dad on a boat. It was some networking thing—back when he was a senator, looking for support and aiming for a higher position. The escapade entailed him rubbing shoulders with his fellow governmental famous friends while she was stuck with their sons and daughters.

She hated their elitist conversations about how much money they had and why the wait at restaurants was getting out of hand when no one wanted to work—when she was certain the lot of them had never set foot outside of Mommy and Daddy’s bank to make their own money.

Fortunately, the guy in the weird pants put his hand on her arm, causing her to tune back in. She hoped she didn’t look ridiculous zoning out. Obviously, she hadn’t, if he continued talking to her. Her friend didn’t come over to interject either so maybe he was fine. She smiled politely at him, focusing on the one-sided conversation he seemed to be having. Maybe that was why he hadn’t noticed she wasn’t paying attention. He was merely listening to his own voice.

She thought about her flashcards sitting on her coffee table at home. That was better than listening to this guy. She pictured the words, the definitions, the pictures she had painstakingly drawn on each one over the last couple weeks. She had her third exam of one of her major classes in two weeks. She wasn’t struggling—especially if you looked at her grades, but it was because of the effort she put into her work to make sure it was top notch.

Where was her friend to get this guy away from her?

Oh well, at least she could imagine the different ring-structures while she zoned out.

Why did she even bother coming out tonight? She and Harry were in the middle of their latest rom-com when her friend invited her out. After the whole concert fiasco, while she was staying in for a week to ease Harry’s worries (and because he got yelled at—despite the fact everyone told him she would leave) she studied a lot. Meanwhile, Harry had created a list of every stupid rom-com movie he could find on Netflix and during her study breaks, they were slowly working their way through it. Being the scientist she was, she created a spreadsheet to rate each movie and list any additional comments. There were subcategories for their rating system, predictability, likability, casting, soundtrack, trashiness, etc.

“What are we going to do with this information?” Harry asked, looking at her laptop with her as she screen-shared it to her TV post-viewing Your Place or Mine.

“Ashton Kutcher gets a 10/10—"she muttered.

“You always give him a 10/10,” Harry reminded her.

“—and I don’t know. Nothing. It’s fun!”

It was the simplest fun she’d had in years.

Where was her friend?

She took a long chug of her drink, finishing it off and shaking the glass at the bartender while she mouthed “thank you.” She continued listening to the mind-numbing conversation this man was having with himself. It shocked Harry she could be so grumpy toward DSS but someone that was clearly boring the lights out of her was not subject to the lovely attitude he had been so lucky to see so many times over the last two and a half months.

Harry received an email alert that the check was completed. She may have missed his name, but Harry didn’t. He glanced through the details, finding public indecency from getting too drunk and showing off in public in front of a group of people he shouldn’t have. What should have been a short stint in jail, there was instead a fine was paid by someone with the same last name as him and no more record of the event. That was enough for Harry to get her out of there but theoretically if it was swept under the rug, then it wasn’t all that bad...marginally. So, he could leave him be. For now.

He also attended one of the private universities in the city. A red flag on her end for sure, but she had to have known that; he had been talking to her for over fifteen minutes and he seemed like the type to brag about where he went to school. So why was she listening to him? Harry swore if he had to listen to him fail to give her an orgasm tonight while he stood outside her apartment, he was going to lose his mind.

She sipped her new drink. Her fourth or fifth. Harry felt a little nervous given she hadn’t had any water and it had been hours since she had eaten. He wasn’t worried about her getting intoxicated—Harry remembered drinking significantly in college, but he didn’t want her to have a hangover or feel sick. He hated that and wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Well, except maybe this guy. He had to remember to ask what she was thinking about while he spoke because there was no way she was paying this close attention to the nonsense spewing out of him about NFTs and Cryptocurrency.

He leaned toward her ear and whispered something. It made her cheeks turn red. But when she smirked it didn’t reach her eyes. Of course, this idiot didn’t notice. But Harry certainly did. She shook her head at whatever it was. But he didn’t accept that. He leaned closer toward her. Sliding in between her seat and the occupied one behind her. He draped his arm awkwardly around her and Harry couldn’t take it.

Her friend must have left or simply wasn’t paying attention.

Harry tapped her shoulder. “Love,” he said gently as she turned to him. “Let’s go please,” his voice was even, pleasant. He wasn’t trying to make a scene. But she was on drink number five at this point. Alcohol tended to make her a bit feisty—or feistier as Harry would say. She narrowed her eyes at him with a smirk.

“No, thank you,” she said just as politely and turned her attention back to the guy beside her. Even though she didn’t want to. It was so stubborn of her. Stupid of her. In hindsight, if she just listened to Harry, she probably would have had a much more pleasant weekend.

Harry grabbed the barstool she was sitting on and spun her back toward him. His thigh touched her knee. He gripped the back of her seat, closing her off from the guy she was speaking to. He leaned closer to her she could smell his minty breath. “Now,” his voice was low. But she could practically feel the vibration run through her like a current. Harry was intimidating (and without a doubt hot, it was impossible not to notice, especially when he was so close, smelled so good, and she had a lot of alcohol swimming through her bloodstream). It felt like maybe this was a terrible idea having someone close in age after all. Someone that, in theory, she could date if he were anyone else. If he weren’t someone charged with protecting her well-being every moment of the day.

“You always want to ruin my fun,” she grumbled sipping her drink.

He shook his head. “I don’t, love. I really don’t. But I want y’safe. Let’s go.”

“Look buddy,” the moron said to Harry. He put a hand on her shoulder. “We’re having a grand time right now. She doesn’t need your help.”

“Harry,” she hissed. Her eyes looked a bit glassy, and Harry thought she was probably feeling all four drinks she had tasted spin through her mind. The bar was hot, and confrontation was never off the table with her and probably fought well with the liquid running through her.

“Love,” Harry repeated.

“Don’t call her that,” the guy snorted. “It’s pretty pathetic you’re pining after her. There’s plenty of girls here that you could talk to. Why do you even want her?”

Harry looked at her directly in the eye, even though hers were struggling to see straight, her head bobbing ever so slightly. “I asked nicely, first. Please try t’remember that in the morning,” he told her evenly. In one movement, he grabbed the guy’s wrist off her shoulder so quickly and twisted it behind his back. Before there was any time to react from any party, Harry shoved him into the bar leaned close to the guy’s ear who let out the least manly squeal Harry had ever heard. “Public indecency charge and daddy covering up the charge doesn’t bode well for your limp dick, buddy,” he snarled in his ear.

“Harry!” She shouted angrily. Harry shoved him into the bar once more, causing him to grunt. In the next moment he grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the door. She pulled against him shouting and smacking his arm, but he didn’t release her. He was only mildly irritated by her weak punches. She was pissed he was strong. It wasn’t fair. The bouncers at the door were privy to the situation. They understood all too well who she was and who Harry was. They avoided eye contact with the girl vibrating with anger.

Harry lost his grip on her for all of two seconds. He caught her around the waist before she could even run three little steps. Without much effort, he swept her wiggling form into his arms. Tossing her over his shoulder like she weighed nothing but a small bag of potatoes. Then he simply turned to walk the few blocks back to his SUV.

She did not like it. “PUT. ME. DOWN.”

“Y’know, I did m'training with another political family. They had a young daughter. After a long day, I had t’do the very same thing t’her. If you’re going t’act like a child. I’ll treat you like one. M’doing this for your safety.”

“You’re EMBARRASSING me!” She shrieked.

“Then jus’ listen next time. M’not waiting around for some financial know-it-all t’indecently expose himself around you or worse. I’m done with your reign of paperwork terror. Not for a bratty girl that jus’ wants attention,” it was a low blow. He knew it as he said it. Especially after her last threat when he called her a brat.

She hit him hard against his back. Clawed at his shirt. It was no use because his muscles were dense and had no give for her weak punches. She wondered if he could even feel them. “I am not a brat!” she hissed at him.

“You couldn’t fool me.”

She gave him a few more lackluster punches. Yelled so many swears she would embarrass a sailor. But after two blocks, her yells turned into grumbles. She muttered a few more choice words with Harry’s name attached as he carried her further down the sidewalk.

After a full three minutes of silence, she sighed. The rush of blood to her head was definitely calming her quicker than if she were upright. She felt woozy between being upside down for so long and the flush of alcohol in her bloodstream. “I won’t run,” she mumbled after a moment. “Please put me down, Harry,” she said politely. “I promise.”

Given that any time she uttered the word or swore to keep a promise, she did (with the exception of losing her phone), he almost immediately righted her. He held her steady by the hip for a moment until the blood went back to where it belonged in her body.

They walked in more silence, another block. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

"S’okay. It was rude of me. I didn't like what I saw on the background. Nor what he had t’say,” he shrugged. He was grateful she didn’t take off again. Harry didn’t want to fight with her.

She smirked. Her eyes fluttered a moment too long. If Harry hadn't been practically studying her every movement over the last few months he might not have noticed the extra twitch in her eye as she did. He looked at her curiously, only one extra second longer, before he decided to shrug it off as the alcohol. “Least I waited t’carry you till we were outside, yeah?” He asked. Harry was nothing but partial to constructive feedback at least. Especially in a moment like this. When it was quiet, just the pair of them. Like their coffee runs or while they were watching movies. When she wasn’t on display in front of her friends, and she wasn’t thinking about Harry like he was her enemy.

She nodded. Her head felt really heavy, suddenly. The last drink must have caught up to her more than all the others. Which sucked mainly because it didn't even taste good. It was like the bartender added extra salt to it or something.

“Yeah,” she mumbled and stumbled a bit. She managed to press her hand against the building they were walking nearby as she stopped to try and catch her breath. Her brain felt so fuzzy. She tried to shake her head of the fogginess, but it only made her dizzier. Harry grabbed her other arm and held her upright only briefly before she nearly collapsed.

“Whoa, love?” Harry asked quickly wrapping an arm around her waist to stabilize her.

"Something’s wrong...my drink was salty," she mumbled almost intelligibly.

Her brain automatically put it together, but her tongue felt too swollen in her mouth to explain it to Harry. She pictured drawing it. Benzene rings. 1-methyl, 7-nitro. She could have drawn them herself if she wasn’t so tired. They nearly danced in her vision, as if they were appearing out of thin air as they attached to the cells in her bloodstream.

Harry swore under his breath as the realization hit him shortly after her. He swept her back into his arms, this time cradling her against his chest. His heart raced with anger and worry. “Love? Y'with me?" He asked uselessly. She nodded anyway and gave a small sound that he imagined was supposed to be a word but didn't make it all the way through her lips. "Fucking hell," he hissed and hurried the final block to his SUV.

Harry drove as fast as he possibly could while keeping an eye on her slumping figure in his passenger seat. He barely had the car in shifted in park (in a no parking zone at that) when he rushed to her side. “Gonna get y’some help, love. M’so sorry,” he mumbled to her. Harry felt terrible. Horrible. He should have been faster at getting her out of there. He should have...

Well, he didn’t really have time for should haves right now.

He cradled her once more. While his heart was fraught with worry his brain was trying to sort through everything that went wrong so, very quickly...he couldn’t stop the thought of how natural it felt to hold her like this. He wished with everything in him, it was for something else. Maybe she simply drank too much. Or she fell asleep on the floor amidst her study session. Anything. Anything but this.

Harry sprinted into the emergency room shouting orders explaining who he was holding in his arms. As soon as they realized the gravity of the situation, he explained who he was as he laid her on a gurney. Now that she was going to get treatment and out of his arms, the worry in his heart escalated. So much so it must have been plain on his face. The nurses were putting IVs in her, a doctor flashed a light in her eyes and all the while she limply laid there. Like she was merely asleep on her couch in her flowery apartment.

“Did he—?”

Harry felt his stomach knot at the half-question. His heart filled with venom. He couldn’t hear the words. He didn’t want anyone to hear it. He couldn’t fathom someone—no, something awful and terrible hurting her like that. “No,” he snapped. He was mad that he didn’t see the drink. It had to be when she was yelling at him. and her fitful, spiteful drink of the same glass when he stopped paying attention to her for half a second. He must have thought she would have shaken Harry off. Leave her alone with the likes of him.

Harry thought it would have been a hell of a lot worse if she hadn’t sat at the bar this evening. Or if he didn’t hear his name when he introduced himself. If he didn’t get the background check back as quickly as he did and knew that an indecent exposure was enough to make Harry weary.

Harry was pacing the hall outside the room where she was being tested. He was thinking of ways to murder him in the time it would take for her to be ready tomorrow morning. Or arrested. He could call a tip to his friend at the local police station. He called the bartender to let him know. To keep an eye on anyone else at that bar and to get that horrible monster out.

Oh, he was so fucking mad. “Goddammit!” He shouted knocking over an IV stand with nothing on it. Some of the staff stared at him momentarily and the clatter he created. Harry ignored their stairs, running his hands through his hair and pressing his forehead to the wall as he knotted his fingers behind his head. The onlookers continued about their business.

The paperwork was going to be brutal. He was certain he would be fired. Worse, he felt he deserved it. It was the least that should happen to him because he basically broke the one rule he was expected to follow: he let something happen to her. Something that he should have seen and prevented before it hurt her.

There was a gentle tap on his arm. He turned his head from the wall. “You can see her now,” the nurse said softly.

Harry wasn’t stupid. He knew only family or emergency contacts were allowed to see her, neither of which he was. He probably should call her father. How was he supposed to have that conversation? Regardless, he knew she wouldn’t want to see him. Not after that. No matter how forgiving she seemed once he let her walk on her own.

“M’sure I’m the last person she wants t’see,” he admitted. “And m’not family.”

The nurse shrugged and looked at the tablet in her hand again and then looked back up at him. “Harry, right? It says you’re her emergency contact.” She held out the tablet to show him that it was Harry’s name and number under the emergency contact information bubbles. The word ‘friend’ was written as the descriptor for relationship.

He sighed, feeling a larger obligation to her. Although he wasn’t sure it was right for him, after she got hurt on his watch. “Is she alright?” He asked rubbing the back of his head.

“Yes, thanks to you. You saved her. These kinds of things don’t usually have such a bright ending,” she nodded with a smile. She reminded him of a mum. Her kind, gentle encouraging words. She opened the door to the room and gestured for him to enter.

Harry slipped quietly in the door. She looked as if she was sleeping, like when she fell asleep on her couch in the middle of one of their movies without Harry noticing and he had to pretend he hadn’t already seen half the movie without her. There was a tube of oxygen flowing into her nose, her head was slumped to the side. An IV still in her arm. God, Harry hated it; hated that this happened to her and he couldn't stop it in time.

“We’re going to keep her overnight just to make sure it all clears her system. But she’ll be fine. And it’s really a much better scenario than what typically happens.”

Harry closed his eyes and sighed. Rubbing his hand over his face he nodded. “Thank you.”

“Can I get you a drink?” She asked.

“Please. Thank you, ma’am,” he said politely. She hurried to do that and then left them alone.

Harry once more watched her sleepy figure. He was so used to this, as he had told Niall. Most of his job was watching her sleep. The number of times he stood vigilant while she slept amidst her textbooks and a coffee cup nearly spilling out of her hand. She looked so peaceful. When she wasn’t arguing or yelling at him. But right now was different, and he hated watching her sleep. He wanted her to be awake, yelling at him or furiously telling him that Rachael Leigh Cook and Natalie Portman were not the same people.

She’s safe, she’s okay, and she’ll be alright. He repeated it to himself like a mantra as he watched her dream-struck face. He hoped she was having a good dream. Hoped that the night wasn’t on her mind and that she felt safe again.

He scooted himself forward in the chair so that he was closer to the bed. He didn’t like the angle her head was tilted. Carefully, he pressed his hand to the side of her neck and gently moved her, so she was more evenly centered against the pillow. On top of everything else, he didn’t want her to strain her neck. She sighed softly; almost as if she melted into his touch. Harry felt the first bout of relief since they left the bar. He breathed out his own sigh. He propped his head in his other hand, gazing at her, his elbow resting on the edge of her bed.

He held her head up in that position the whole night.

She was quiet and groggy as he drove her back home the following morning. Wrapped his arm around her waist carefully and supported her weak frame up the steps to her apartment building. He didn’t let go of her in the elevator or when they were inside her apartment and moreover, she didn't protest. The rage Harry felt was as fierce as it was the night before. The only solace he had was knowing that poor excuse for a man was brought into custody.

Harry was dreading the paperwork he’d have to fill out for this one, but not even because he was annoyed with her. No, not annoyed; instead, he focused all his frustration and worry about caring for her.

She was silent, resting on the couch, her eyes still fluttering as if she needed to sleep more. Harry wouldn't blame her if she fell asleep again. It wasn’t her fault for the fatigue and exhaustion that wracked her body. Harry kind of hoped she would continue to rest for the afternoon. “Was supposed to study,” she mumbled.

“Sorry love; don’t think s’happening this weekend,” he remarked bringing her water and some toast for her stomach. Peanut butter slathered in one thin layer on the slice of bread, just as he had seen her do so many mornings before she headed to class. He sat beside her, holding the plate while she nibbled on her snack and was once more pleased that she didn't protest.

She was too tired to complain or argue or really do anything to torture Harry. Not that she looked for ways to torture him.

But specifically, it was never her intention to get hurt like this, of course. “I'm really sorry, Harry,” she mumbled. “Do you have to do the paperwork for it?” She asked. “I won’t tell anyone,” she promised.

Harry felt a twinge in his chest at her kindness that she was willing to lie on his behalf. That she was apologizing. He smiled sadly, and nodded. “I do, love. But s’okay. And...S’not your fault.”

“I should have listened to you,” she muttered looking down at her toast dejectedly. She messed up so bad. It wasn't supposed to happen like that.

“Love,” he said seriously. “I’ll blame y’till the end of time for you escaping or running away...this though? This is not y’fault,” he promised shaking his head. She frowned and didn’t speak. Her other security members would have blamed her. Because yes, he shouldn’t have spiked her drink. But if she were a pleasant person to watch, obeyed the rules like a lovely little pet, then she wouldn’t have had a sip of her drink to spite Harry and she would have left peacefully. And safely

“Thank you,” she said softly. “Can’t imagine what would happen if...” she trailed off thinking about if she managed to stay. She swallowed thickly, suddenly very frustrated and upset over her own stupidity for letting something like this happen. Letting someone take advantage of her. She should have been more aware. She shouldn’t have let her annoyance cloud her judgment.

“Love, I wouldn’t let anything happen to you,” he promised. “M’sorry this did. Feel like I let y’down.”

She swallowed a piece of her toast realizing that Harry knew to put peanut butter on it, and she felt a bit overcome with emotion. It was sweet that he knew her. Her other agents would never do this for her. They’d make sure she was okay and stay far away from her. “I understand if you want to be reassigned,” she whispered.

He frowned, suddenly taken aback. He put the plate of toast on the coffee table. He rubbed his palms along his thighs. “Y’don’t want me t’be here?” He asked.

She shook her head. “No, I do...” she sighed. “But...this is bad, even I know that,” she admitted. “M’sorry. Really truly sorry I didn't listen. I know...I know how seriously you take your job and it wasn't fair to you to have to suffer through that either.”

“S’jus’ paperwork,” he shrugged. She looked up at his face, his green eyes were soft. There was no other way to describe it. He watched her eat and rest. Of course, she knew how much Harry hated paperwork. He moaned and groaned about it from her dining table almost weekly. She wasn’t part of the meetings, but she knew that he would get yelled at for this one. Even if it wasn’t his fault. But...he wanted to stay anyway. "The important thing is you're safe, love."

“You want to stay?” She asked in surprise.

He shrugged then nodded again. “S’long as you want me here.”

She thought Harry was a glutton for punishment, but she liked how nice he was to her. Maybe she would take it easy for a little bit. This really was a lot more than he probably anticipated.

“So...m’your emergency contact?” He asked with a smug little smirk. It made her rethink her kindness only briefly due to the way he looked so pleased with the notion.

For years it had been her father. She had been waiting for someone to come along and take his spot. She could have lied. Said it was always her main agent. It would have been easy to lie but part of her thought Harry would see right through her. “Who am I supposed to put?” She grumbled. “My dad? Fat chance of that.”

He smirked. “Glad I was there,” he nodded. “Thank you.”

“Thank you?”

“I think I would have...gone a bit mad if I didn’t...get t’see you,” he explained.

Her lips turned up in a tired smile. Poor thing still weak and groggy. “Sorry you had to carry me, I know I’m not light.”

“S’not even on the top hundred things I was worried ‘bout, love. Y’shouldn’t worry ‘bout that either.”

She felt her face warm a bit and she nodded. “Do...you have to start the paperwork right away? Or can we finish our movie?”

He glanced at his watch and nodded. “I can spare the time t'finish the movie.”

Harry got the reaming of a lifetime. She wasn’t privy to it, nor heard any detail of it. But she could tell from the way Harry hardly spoke to her. He even tried really hard not to yell at her while she did stupid things like leave a candle burning while she napped. Or reached into the sink to get the spoon that fell in the garbage disposal. Or when she didn’t look at the active ingredients of her cleaning supplies while washing her shower down and got lightheaded.

He didn’t seem all that fazed though, and it kinda ruined her typical annoying fun with him even if she was taking it easier on him. Still, she wasn’t so heartless to recognize this was a job for Harry. She recognized how bad it was that something like this happened. Especially for Harry. But even so, because it was the first time that she ever found herself without control over herself. Her life was literally in Harry’s hands, and even if she didn’t know until after, she trusted that she would be okay anyway simply because Harry was there. Even if he was part of her detested security detail.

She was standing in the middle of her sitting room with the book from her shelf. She placed her mug of tea on the coffee table and pretended to read the back of her book with feigned interest. Glancing at Harry, staring at his computer, she wondered what was said or what he was told he had to do. He wasn’t even typing or moving the mouse, so she knew he was simply ignoring her. They hadn’t watched a movie in a week. “How much paperwork do you have to do if I die or something?”

His gaze flicked to her and then turned back to his screen--still no typing. “S’not funny, love,” he rolled his eyes. She liked the eye roll. That was the most interaction she had with him in a week. The most reaction she got out of him in a week.

“I’m genuinely asking.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “A lot, probably.”

She nodded. “Why?”

“You’re not supposed to die. Not while m’here. If you die, then I didn’t do m’job t’protect you. S’protocol.”

God, she hated that word. “That’s hardly fair.” She frowned. Harry noted her distaste seemed serious. “You have a mom and a sister who would be devastated if something happened to you—especially on behalf of me.”

He blinked at her curiously. He hadn’t ever mentioned his family around her. He was surprised she even knew he had a sister. She rolled her eyes at him as he tried to flesh through all their conversations to see when he slipped up. “You’re not the only one that can do a background check. You should really put a middle name on your social media instead of your last name. Makes it a little harder to find you. Don’t know very many Harry Styles around these parts.”

He smirked. She was pretty cute when she was a know-it-all.

“Finally. I thought my material was worsening,” she flung herself back on the couch. “I don’t know what they said to you, but can you just come over here so we can watch a movie? I feel like they forgot you were the one that got me out of that mess. I don’t think it’s fair they yelled at you because I was being a brat. Suddenly now they think I would listen? That’s on them more than anything,” she said assuredly.

Harry seemed to be having some kind of internal battle over by his computer. She began reading the first couple pages of her book while Harry tried to work through whatever it was that was bothering him before his resolve seemed to crumble, and he took his place on the other sofa. She closed her book.

“What are they like?”

“Who?” He asked. He bounced his knee with what appeared to be a bout of nervous energy. She wished she could reach out and still it. She didn’t want him to be nervous. Despite everything and all the reasons she didn’t like DSS, she really liked Harry. He shoved his hands into his front pockets.

“Anne and Gemma,” she smiled impishly. Harry chuckled because it was funny, she really did do her own little background check. He would have to view his social media profiles from his work laptop and see what he could find out about himself. See what she saw.

“They’re lovely women,” he said with a shrug. “My best friends, probably. Not much t’say.”

“Of course, they’re lovely,” she rolled her eyes. “You’re lovely. But what do they do? What are they like?”

“I’m lovely?” His knee stopped shaking. His eyes were so very green as he looked at her awaiting her response.

She glanced at him nervously--not because she was nervous around him...but because he was Harry. If Harry ever left she would have to have a serious chat with whoever decided the person in charge of her protection should be close in age to her. It was not good for her psyche. Or if he was going to be close in age, he couldn't be as hot as Harry. It was very unfair. “Well. Yeah. Not…many people put up with a spoiled brat like me. Even when they’re forced to.”

“Spoiled is not how I would describe you,” he shook his head. She didn’t respond and continued staring at him so she wouldn’t turn into mush at the barely there compliment he gave her. “Gemma is very sweet and funny. Intelligent. You would probably be best friends with her. If it wasn’t for escaping—Gemma is a good-two-shoes. She’s a writer—really into mental health. Mum would like all the flowers y’have. She works for a non-profit for domestic violence. She would probably want t’braid y’hair the way she braids Gemma’s. Gemma can’t cook—or she shouldn’t. Mum let me do most of the cooking. They crochet together a lot now these days. Every Wednesday night they get together t’have tea on the porch and crochet. They’re always sending new designs in our group chat.”

Her heart felt so warm as she listened to the adoration falling from Harry’s lips for the women in his life. She wished she had a sibling.

Or a mom.

...Or a Harry.

That sounded adorable.

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ihavethedreamies · 3 months

Text

Love or Hate (1) | Jongho

Choi Jongho - ATEEZ

Word Count: ~3.2k

Pairing: Jongho x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Fluff, Pining, Angst? Reader gets cranky, Jealousy

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, almost a slight moment with Wooyoung

Summary: You have developed a strong crush on your best friend over the two years you have known him. One day, all your emotions just boil over.

Part 1; part 2 will be smut u3u

Part 2: Sweet or Spicy

Part 3: Sweet? or Spicy?

Edit: I did change the banner images so this isn't new or changed otherwise...

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

You had been friends with Jongho for a few years. You met both of your Freshman year and now the end of Junior year was approaching. It was at some kind of Freshman event that all the clubs and school organizations were at to try and recruit new members. Walking around the rec center gym where a bunch of booths were set up, you were looking at some brochures on an unmanned table when you quite literally ran into him. When you turned to walk elsewhere, you smacked into someone's chest and you yelped, pulling back quickly, your hand over your mouth. Since you were pretty short, even though he wasn’t super tall for a guy, he was bigger than you. Also, not just from literally faceplanting into him, you could tell he was strong. His pants were extremely tight and so was the long-sleeve button up he had on.

"Woah!" He steadied you by placing his hands on your shoulders and even his hands felt ridiculously strong.

"I'm so sorry!" You apologized again, not normally very clumsy. At first you wondered why he had been so close to you, but the place was quickly growing packed and there wasn’t too much room to move around. The event was supposed to be outside with more room, but it was pouring so they had to set up inside. Due to the amount of people, if you backed up too far you would be sitting on the table, so you were forced to stay close to him. What drew your attention most was that he was in a dress shirt and pants with a vest. It was like…hot as balls out even with the rain. Why was he so covered up?

Someone excused themselves behind him and he was forced even closer to move out of the way, and his hand had still not moved from your shoulder.

"A-are you wanting to look at this?" You pointed behind you, shuffling to the side so he could look at the brochures. There was a map of campus laid out on the table as well, both things explaining all of the different places and things you could do. He smiled and moved up to where you had been and so you grabbed a pamphlet and went to move on, but he called out to you.

"Do you work in the weight room?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah. Why?"

"I saw you there yesterday. Is there a time where it’s less busy?" He had picked up a flyer and walked over to you and once again someone brushed by him, and you found him even closer to you again.

"Um, the early morning. We open at like six, there aren’t too many people then." Most people did not like hearing that. You went to bed and woke up early so you didn’t mind working then. It actually paid more than in the evening because most people don’t want to work that early.

"Great, thanks…"

"(Y/N)." you told him, holding out your hand for him to shake and he returned it.

"Jongho."

After that he would come by the weight room when you were working and since it was slow that was also when you worked out. You weren’t great with cardio since you had asthma as a kid and so you just lifted. It made you laugh when he came in because he always wore long pants and long sleeves, whereas you would be in a sports bra and capris leggings. Eventually you began hanging out outside of the weight room and you joined his group of friends. They were…a lot. Most of the time, Jongho and you would sit off to the side and watch as Seonghwa tried to calm the chaos. One night you were hit really hard by the fact that you had gotten a crush on the youngest of the group. It was Sophomore year, and you were all hanging out in a small grassy courtyard behind the Liberal Arts building. It was nearing the end of the school year, and it was early spring, only a sweatshirt was needed even as the moon rose. Some of the boys were running around like children while you sat on a picnic blanket with Jongho, Hongjoong and Seonghwa. You were putting together some small Lego sets with the eldest when you heard a shrill cry of your name.

"(Y/N) help me!" Wooyoung screamed and you sighed but didn’t turn to look at him.

"Whatever it is, you deserve it!" You called back and he screamed again. Finally, you turned to see what was happening and he was being held captive by San as Mingi and Yunho bit his arm. Not having any idea how it had come to this you deadpanned at the scene and sighed. Getting up, you shot Hongjoong a look and he looked up from where he was writing notes of a new song, his guitar on his lap.

"Aren’t you dad? Seonghwa's mom? When did I turn into mom?"

"When Jongho became dad." Hongjoong told you and glared at him. He wasn’t wrong. Jongho was the scariest and if Wooyoung or San were being annoying he would just pick them up or squeeze their hand real hard. He could even throw a Mingi over his shoulder if need be.

"Why am I mom?" You looked quickly at Jongho who was leaning against the tree, his eyes closed, earbuds in. Seonghwa snorted and you glared at him then.

"Please." He scoffed and you flinched.

"What is that supposed to mean?" You questioned and the eldest shot Hongjoong a look himself and they had a silent conversation.

"Whatever-"

"(Y/N)!!!!!" Wooyoung screamed again and you knew you would have to do something before you all got in trouble. Groaning, you jogged over to them, prying San's arms off of Wooyoung while flicking Yunho and Mingi hard on the forehead. They yelped dramatically and fell back, holding their heads. San lunged to grab Wooyoung again and the younger one hid behind you, using you as a shield.

"Uh, guys-" Yeosang, who was standing nearby trying to watch, but not get involved, called out.

"Jung Wooyoung!" you scolded as he squatted behind you, holding your legs, pressing his cheek to your butt. His hand was wrapped around your thigh and your face felt warm having him hold you like that.

"Wooyoung-" Yeosang was ignored again and suddenly the other three looked at something behind you in fear.

"What?" You tried to turn and look too but there was a person attached to you.

"Oh my gosh, let go!" When you reached to pry his arms off of you, he just held on tighter, his other hand landing on your inner thigh.

"Ah!" he screamed out of nowhere and he was off of you. You stumbled at the force of what yanked him off and teetered before getting your balance.

"What the-" You finally turned and saw Jongho had pinned Wooyoung down on the ground and was holding his arms behind his back. He wasn’t doing it hard enough to hurt him, but he was restricting him from moving.

"Ow, ow, ow!" He yiped and seeing the display of strength, and the fact that he was doing it to rescue you, made your heart thud against your rib cage. That must have been what Yeosang was trying to warn of and why the other three got startled. The fabric of Jongho's sweatshirt spread tightly over his back as he wrangled the older boy, his jeans hugging his butt and thighs perfectly, and it hit you. Throwing your hand over your mouth, everything that everyone had been seeing but you suddenly sprung to mind. Whenever you needed help with anything, Jongho was there. If you ever were upset or even excited, you went to Jongho first. He bought you your favorite snacks when you met up and you always sat next to him. When you were sick, he would go to your dorm room and take care of you. If it was cold, you would let him huddle up to you for warmth. Also, you were made aware of the way you would ogle him all the time. Not only was he handsome and had the voice of an angel, he was thick in the best kind of way and everything he wore was always tight. Even though he barely even showed his forearms, to you he was extremely attractive in every way.

"I think she figured it out." Seonghwa chuckled quietly to Hongjoong.

"About time."

For almost a whole year you had been crushing on Jongho, but you hadn’t the courage to do anything about it. You were scared that if he didn’t like you back in that way, it would ruin your friendship. So, you just held it inside and your crush grew and grew. Afraid to admit it, even in your own thoughts, you were falling in love with him even though you weren’t even dating. There had definitely been times when he would flirt with you, and you would give it back. But who knew if it meant anything past just being playful. One night when you were all at your apartment, eating, drinking, and playing video games, you had a bit too much to drink. You tended to get emotional and cry easily when you were drunk, and you could feel tears pricking your eyes with no prompting. Not wanting the boys to see you like that and make fun of you, you shuffled back into your room, mumbling about going to the bathroom. Instead, you just sat on your bed, sniffling.

"(Y/N), are you okay?" Wooyoung knocked on the door, peaking in and pushing it the rest of the way open.

"M'fine." you mumbled, and he fully entered, kneeling in front of you.

"What's wrong, why are you crying?" His hands cupped your cheeks, wiping the tears away.

"Dunno."

"You don’t know?"

"Mhmh." He cooed at your cute tipsy state and his hand moved from your cheek to your jaw. He couldn’t help himself anymore, you were way too cute. He leaned forward, his nose bumping yours and you sobered up quick. You quickly held your hand up, placing it between you two and he blinked in surprise.

"S-sorry, Wooyoung, you, uh-"

"I'm not Jongho?" The older boy sighed, and you gaped.

"I might be a dumbass, but I'm not an idiot, (Y/N)."

"M'sorry." you muttered, and he shook his head with a small smile.

"Not surprised. Though, I think you should tell him. I don’t like you coming in here to cry about it." He stood up and held his hand out to help you get up from where you were sitting on your bed. Giving him a shy smile, you let him help you up and you both went back out to the crazies.

"Where'd Jongho go?" you asked, and Yunho waved toward the door to the balcony. The door was propped open with a wedge, and you went to join him out there. Better than later, especially with some liquid courage in your system. For some reason though, when you reached for the handle, you halted. Fear gripped you and with a sigh, you took a step back and went back to sit on the couch. Wooyoung shot you a look from where he sat on the floor, and you shook your head. When Mingi asked if you wanted another drink you denied and sat watching them play games. Maybe another time…

Looking at the time on your phone, you huffed from where you stood. You were waiting outside of Jongho's classroom, ready to be done for the day. He was going back to your apartment with you because you needed help putting together your new desk. While you could manage physically, you were really bad at reading directions, and he offered to help after you started to complain about it. There were still some kids leaving the classroom since they had to gather the materials they needed for some presentation project. When what seemed like the last kid had left, he still hadn’t come out. The teacher had even left already, so you got up from the bench and went far enough into the room that you could look around the corner at the end of the entryway. He was still in there, two girls sitting at the table with him. Must have been in his group. For some reason, seeing them there so close to him made you really mad. Maybe it was because they were making you wait longer for him, but it was more how close they were sitting to him. It was not necessary, and they laughed at something he said a little too hard. He was funny, sure, but that was too much to make sense. When the brunette to his left rested her hand on his arm you saw red. Looking at the drink you had gotten him, you sneered and stormed into the room, clenching the cup tight. You had waited ten minutes between standing in line and getting the beverage for him, then you had to wait while he was flirting around! They didn’t notice you until you sidled up to the table and slammed the drink in front of him, the ice rattling in the liquid.

"I'm going home." you snapped and turned aggressively, storming back out. You knew you were getting a little too mad. He was your best friend, sure, but you two weren’t even going out, but you just got so upset. Why didn’t you have the courage to flirt with him like that? Why didn’t you have the courage to confess to him?

"(Y/N)!" he shouted behind you as you stomped down the hall toward the entrance. You heard one of the girls call something out as well, but you couldn’t hear it as you shoved hard against the push handle of the door, throwing it open. The cool late spring air smelled like rain, the wet pavement evidence there was a short downfall while you were waiting for him.

"(Y/N)!" he called you again, much closer now. Damn your tiny legs.

"Wait!" Jongho was right behind you, and you just kept going.

"Hey!" He sounded mad, his hand grabbing your wrist so he could haul you to turn around and face him. He was taken aback by your red cheeks and eyes and the fire in your gaze. His grip wasn’t tight but even being stronger than the average college girl, there was no point in even trying to fight him. His face hardened and he pulled you closer to him, his nose almost touching yours.

"Why are you so mad?" he snapped, and tears flowed down your cheeks like when a pot boiled over. The burner heating your anger shut off and you just started to sob.

"H-hey." His anger dissipated immediately as well, and he used his hold on your wrist to pull you into him, hugging you. You balled your fists up against chest, trying to push him off to no avail. You weren’t fighting that hard anyway.

"Let go." You cried pitifully and he knew you didn’t mean it.

"What's wrong?" He pulled back just enough so he could look at your blotchy face. Avoiding looking at his face, one of his hands came softly to your chin so he could move your head, making you look at him.

"I hate you." You mumbled and he almost didn’t catch it, but your tone was insincere.

"Uh-huh." He scoffed. You said that a lot when you were pouty. You hated things quite easily when you didn’t mean it.

"I hate your stupid handsome face. I hate your stupid pretty voice. I hate your stupid deliciously tight pants. I hate your stupid gorgeous hands-" You were rambling, and he stared at you in shock. Sure, you were saying you hated him in multiple aspects, but they were more or less compliments. They ultimately were also confessions, each one.

"(Y/N), (Y/N), hey, slow down." You had told him you hated how sweet he was to you, how sexy his strength was, that he smelled good. In his head he turned each 'hate' to 'love', and he translated your rant. I love that you are so hot when you’re scary. I love that you're so effortlessly powerful. I love that you look good in literally anything. I love that you know me so well. I love, hate, love, hate…When you kept going, he chuckled, releasing you from his hold, but moving both hands to cup your jaw. He cut your rant off with his lips on yours, swallowing your next words. You squeaked in shock as the kiss turned from a sweet 'shut up' into something extremely heated. You sighed out a moan, your eyes slipping closed, and he slipped his tongue in your mouth. One of Jongho's hands moved to the back of your head, tilting it, and pulling you closer. The other found your waist and you pressed closer to him, his hard body unrelenting against your much softer one. Your head swam and it's like his breath was fanning the flame building in your belly. When he finally, reluctantly, pulled away, you were both breathing hard.

"You still need help building that desk?" Both his hands were on your waist, his thumbs rubbed your stomach over your sweatshirt. Yeah, then you can bend me over it…

"Y-yeah." The reality of the situation hit you, and he pulled back, linking his hand with yours.

"Come on." As you two walked off campus and toward your place, you let him lead you, lost in your head. Your fingers were constantly brushing over your lips, not sure if you were more shocked by the kiss or the things you said leading up to it.

"So, I'm stupidly handsome?" He started and you groaned.

"Oh, god."

"My voice is pretty?"

"J-Jongho-"

"My pants are deliciously tight?"

"Please stop-"

"Gorgeous hands?"

"…"

"I'm sweet? Sexy? Smell good?"

"Uh…"

"Hot when I'm scary? Powerful? Look good in literally anything? What was that last one?"

"…that you know me so well…" He stopped right in front of your building, and turned to look at you, your hand still in his.

"Obviously not as well as I should."

"What?"

"If I knew you so well, I should have realized you liked me back."

"Well, I tried- wait, like you back?"

"Yes, silly girl." He smirked and held up your linked hands in front of your face.

"I love that you so readily hold my hand. I love how cute you are, especially when you're mad. I love hearing you laugh. I love how big my sweatshirts look on you. I love how you can split an apple in half like how I taught you. I love that you always spoil me by cooking for me. I love watching your cute little ass in your little shorts when you're at home. I love that you use the perfume that matches my cologne. I love how passionate you get about things you like. I love how you can problem solve anything. I love that you are so small but so strong. I love that you're always by my side." He listed off and you were crying again. You sniffed happily and he pulled you into another hug, you dug your fingers into the leather of his jacket.

"I hate you." You mumbled into his chest, and he laughed.

"I love you too."

Masterlist

#ihavethedreamies #kpop #ateez #ateez jongho #choi jongho #kpop fanfic #kpop x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #jongho x reader #jongho fluff #ateez fluff

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intotheseas · 2 months

Note

But like. Ominis and Seb meeting MC's parents for the first time? Hear me out. Seb has nowhere to go for the summer months after the *ahem* incident in the catacomb. So MC offers both Ominis and sebby boi to stay with her for the summer. (Her parents are weird like she is)

Soooo I actually have almost this exact scene coming in a couple chapters in my fic "The Softest Magic", except without the incident and Vera only has her mother, who is the epitome of uber-caring trollmom lol. But I also want to explore how it might have been if Vera's father was alive, mess with some story points, and play around with present tense too, so here you go! Hope you don't mind that I wrote it with my MC and most of all I hope you like it! Please keep in mind I am new to writing so it definitely won't be perfect ahh and I may have run with the prompt a bit lot :) Read here on AO3 or below the break. 3,817 words.

Features: aged up characters (characters are 17), love triangle, but it's not a bad thing, they're just dancing around it trying to figure it out, hurt/comfort, healing, supportive parents doing what they do best, good parents, fluff, some liberties taken with canon (basically made Solomon an absolute arse), forgiveness.

Contains mentions of murder, violence/abuse, HL spoilers, implied teenage romance, small bit of underage drinking, cheese. Not beta read or proofread super thoroughly.

She’s sitting with him in the Room of Requirement, her thumb rubbing circles over the back of his hand. Sunlight beats down on them and it’s almost uncomfortable, too exposing. He’s bared his soul to her - both the brightest and darkest corners, and it’s taking Vera some effort to average the two. She keeps her eyes trained on his hand, not sure how to look him in the eye when he’s crying. Like it’s a little too much, like it’s a boundary they haven’t made the decision to cross yet.

Which is pretty weird, she thinks, since she saw him kill his uncle just a few weeks ago. Since they’ve shared countless nights together with Ominis, slumped over books, demolishing poachers, falling asleep on this very sofa. The thought shakes her from her weird paralysis and she thinks, fuck it, he needs help. He needs love.

“Come home with me this summer,” she says. “You and Ominis.” Vera meets his eyes, dead serious. “You need somewhere to go and my parents will be overenthusiastic hosts.”

He gives her a look, like he thinks this is a trick. He gives her that look a lot lately, ever since…well, ever since the catacombs. Like he thinks he doesn’t deserve anything nice coming his way. Vera gets it, too. You don’t murder a family member, even in self-defence, and come out without some serious issues.

It’s evident in the way he folds into himself, like a child who’s been yelled at by his father. Vera wonders briefly, how often did Solomon yell at him like that? How often did he hit him? She knows Solomon fought to kill in the catacombs. It was either them or him.

His voice is quiet, meek. So unlike the brash and charming Sebastian she’s come to know and love over the past year. “You mean it?”

Vera pulls him into a hug. “What else would I do? Leave you both in that cottage without Anne? Ridiculous. You and Ominis can come back with me. My parents will love you.” She feels him stiffen in her arms. “And no, I won’t tell them what happened. That parts up to you.”

The wall behind them grates and shifts as Ominis crosses the door’s threshold. “I thought I might find you two here,” he says. His voice is soft, tentative, like he isn’t sure how to say the words, or if he should say them at all.

Vera releases Sebastian from her grasp and gets up, pulls Ominis close. Sebastian’s situation, from the Scriptorium to the catacombs, has traumatised him, too. His best friend, maybe more than that, slipping into the Dark Arts despite his most fervent warnings, careening down the road to hell paved entirely with obsession and good intentions. Despite all his apprehensions, he’s remained loyal to Sebastian until the bitter end. Vera loves Ominis for it. She loves them both.

“Hey Omi,” she says. “I was just telling Seb this, but come home with me this summer. Both of you. My parents are going to love you.” Ominis holds on to her like a life raft, like she’s the one thing keeping him afloat in the maelstrom of fucked-up their lives have become.

“You…you’re certain your parents would welcome two extra students?”

Vera laughs, despite the weird atmosphere. “I’m positive. They always wanted more kids, but Mum couldn’t. They’ll be thrilled to have you.” She leads Ominis to the sofa where Sebastian is still curled into himself, like an old piece of parchment. “I won't force you, but…if you both want to, I can send them an owl right now. What do you think?”

Ominis sits beside Sebastian, loops his arm around his back. “Sebastian? What do you think? I don’t particularly fancy the idea of spending the summer in Feldcroft…it’s too close to…everything. And my family isn’t even worth considering as an option.” Sebastian leans his head against his shoulder.

“If Vera thinks her parents won’t care…if I won’t be an imposition-”

“You won’t,” Vera insists.

“...then okay. It’s not like I have anywhere else to go. You’re right, Ominis, the cottage isn’t an option. I don’t think I could bear being so close to…and if Anne comes back and doesn’t want to see me…” He hangs his head even lower, buries it in his hands. Ominis holds him, runs his fingers through his hair.

Vera walks over to the table in the middle of the room, scratches down a note.

Mum and Dad,

Mind if I bring two of my friends home for the summer? I’ve told you about them, Ominis and Sebastian? They’ve…had a rough year. We all have. I’m giving them all the care I can, but I think some hospitality done Bell style would do them good.

Love you and miss you lots, let me know,

Vera

An owl comes in through the open window, hops over to her. She affixes the letter to its leg and sends it off with a few pats.

She walks over to the sofa and drapes her arms over her two closest friends. Kisses the tops of their heads with all the tenderness she can muster. “I sent them an owl. I’m sure they’ll say yes. In the meantime…I know none of us are okay, but we have O.W.Ls in a month. We need to focus, and you both need to get your mind off of this.” She summons several books and rolls of parchment to the table in front of them.

They groan slightly, but pull books to their laps, their quiet murmurs filling the air. It’s a step, Vera thinks. On a very long staircase. But it’s a step.

Two days later, the Bell’s family owl, Button, swoops in through the Room of Requirement’s window, crash landing into the pile of books and parchment littering the table. He’s small and spotted, and terribly uncoordinated. Perfect in his imperfectness, as Vera’s mom likes to say. He hops excitedly on one foot, waits for Vera to untie the letter tied to his leg.

Vera,

Of course we don’t mind. Tell them they’re coming home. We can’t wait to meet them.

We love and miss you, too. Good luck with O.W.Ls! Can’t wait to see you!

Mum and Dad

“Well, it’s official,” Vera announces. “You two are coming home with me in a month. My parents say they can’t wait to meet you both.” The first genuine smile she’s seen in weeks graces Sebastian’s face. Ominis shoulders slump, his expression relieved, and her heart feels a little lighter. This is closer to how it was before. It’ll never be normal again, she knows, but they’ll find a new normal.

A month passes, and day by day, step by step, they find their way toward something resembling peace. The relentless studying helps, takes their mind off of the existential horror of death and loss and replaces it with the existential horror of their futures. A better direction to look in, Vera thinks.

Their O.W.Ls pass without incident. Vera knows she’s done terribly in History of Magic, but failing that O.W.L is basically a rite of passage for every fifth-year, anyway. They’re all exhausted for a different reason now, a reason that feels earned. Like their naps on the plush sofa in the Room of Requirement are borne out of hard work, not a desire to escape consciousness.

And all too soon, they’re met with the scarlet train that will take them home. “Home,” Vera reminds them. “You’re coming home.” The train ride is both reflective and jumpy, an anxious energy buzzing all over the compartment. Flashes of blue skies and green fields fly by their field of vision as the train picks up speed and takes them away. Away from where it happened, away from all the daily reminders. And maybe she’s imagining it, but every metre they travel, the load feels a little less horrifying. It’ll never be gone, not completely, but like water smoothing a stone, time makes everything feel lighter.

Sebastian’s all nerves, drumming his fingers restlessly on his leg. Vera can see the thoughts racing behind his eyes, already knows what he’s thinking. He wonders if he deserves this, if he’ll fuck this up, too. Thinks he might dare to hope a little.

Ominis is a pool of outward calm, like usual. Vera knows better, of course. Knows he’s concerned about Sebastian, concerned about making a good first impression on her parents.

She’s nervous, too. Nervous about the unspoken bonds between them all. She loves them both, probably as more than friends.

No, definitely as more than friends. She thinks they might feel the same way about her, but she thinks they feel that way about each other, too, and probably have for a long time. The entire year has been a nervous yet comforting dance, the steps marked by stolen glances, lingering touches, chaste kisses on the cheek, fingers interlaced, and too many “accidental” nights spent curled around each other in front of the fire to be accidental. Vera supposes it doesn’t need to be figured out right away, as long as they’re all content.

The smog and odour of London is overpowering as they step off the train and through Platform 9 ¾’s barrier. They’ve decided to floo straight home - no need to make her parents come all the way out here to collect them. A coffee shop nearby provides some sanctuary from the sensory overload, a cheery witch levitating several pots of coffee and tea waves to them over her shoulder as they duck in. “Back from Hogwarts, darlings? Floo point’s in the corner. You enjoy your vacations now!”

They wave back in thanks and cross over to the crackling fireplace. Vera’s voice rings out clearly. “Bell Residence, London!”

The vertigo-inducing, oddly squeezing sensation of floo travel is something Vera still hasn’t grown accustomed to, and she’s a little dizzy as they stumble into her kitchen. The pale yellows of the wallpaper and tablecloth deepen in the warm glow of the sun through the window. Her parents look up expectantly, happily.

Ava, her mother, still in her lime-green Healer robes, immediately stands and gathers them all into a surprisingly crushing hug. Her blonde hair’s in its usual bun and freckles dot across her face like stars as her eyes crinkle into an enormous smile. “Welcome home, loves,” she murmurs. “I’m so happy you’re all here. I’m Ava, and this,” she points over to the man at the table, “is Riley.”

Riley rises from the table, taller than all of them. Vera peeks to the side at Ominis and Sebastian, sees them shrink back slightly and almost giggles. Her father looks imposing, but he’s even more of a dear than Ava. His ruddy cheeks emphasise his genuine smile, and his curly tawny hair falls in every direction. Vera hugs him tightly, and Riley grabs Sebastian and Ominis, brings them into the fold. “Welcome home,” he says. “All of you.”

Ava nearly dances around them, levitates their luggage with her wand and leads them down a long hallway toward another sun-soaked room. There are two guest beds set up, plush and feathery, with deep emerald green duvets resting on top. Vera’s bed rests to the left, her duvet a cheery yellow. “Afraid we don’t have a guest room, but this’ll do, right?” She winks, and her eyes dance with mischief. “I’m sure you’re all exhausted from the trip. Why don’t you all rest in here while Riley and I make dinner?” She steps lightly out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Vera sits on her bed, sinking into the thick duvet. “Well,” she says. “Those are my parents.” I promise Dad is a lot less imposing than he seems. He and Mom are really playful people. It’s just kind of how they show their love.”

Sebastian and Ominis sit, flanking her, their faces contemplative. They flop backwards, their hands finding each other by habit, fingers interlocking.

“I don’t know if I deserve this kindness,” Sebastian admits. His brow furrows as he gazes at the ceiling. Ominis leans his head against Vera’s shoulder, reaches with his other hand to place it atop Sebastian’s.

“Maybe it isn’t about deserving it,” Vera murmurs. “I mean, it’s happening anyway. The kindness. Trust me, my parents are going to treat you like you’re their own. And Mum has an uncanny sense with these things…you don’t have to tell her anything you don’t want to, but I think you’ll find she’s a lot more understanding than you’d think.”

Sebastian chews on her words, considers them slowly and thoughtfully. “It’s just…I feel like I’ve put enough bad into the world. Why should I accept any goodness?”

Ominis moves his hand to Sebastian’s shoulder and squeezes. “Because people are giving it to you,” he says. His tone is matter-of-fact. “It’s up to you whether you accept it. But if you’re asking me…I think you deserve some kindness.”

They stay like this for a while, thinking and reflecting. The air between them seems both impossibly vast yet precarious, like a single action could change everything. Eventually they doze, their proximity comforting each other.

Ava’s knuckles rap against the door. “Dinner!” she calls out. The three spring up, their reverie over.

Riley and Ava are at the table when they arrive. There are thick slices of bread Vera knows her mother baked this morning, topped with generous dollops of butter. Slices of cheddar cheese are nestled beside it, and bits of roasted meat and mashed potatoes send mouth-watering smells into the kitchen.

Her parents smile, tell them to sit down. The food is immaculate, and Vera senses both Sebastian and Ominis feeling more at ease with the lively chatter Ave and Riley curate. They talk about O.W.Ls, their Hogwarts houses, potential future careers, and all the gossip that Ava and Riley hear around St Mungos and the Ministry. The atmosphere is warm and familiar, and it isn’t long until the family’s pet kneazles are begging for scraps at their feet.

They end the night with a game of wizards chess, Riley insists he play with Sebastian. It’s a close game, but Riley booms with laughter when Sebastian finally checkmates him, the little chess pieces crumbling into bits and reassembling shortly after. “Seems like our daughter found a smart one,” he says approvingly. His eyes twinkle in that fatherly way, and it’s all for Sebastian.

Meanwhile, Ava, Ominis, and Vera indulge in a spirited discussion about healing magic. Ominis is ardently interested, shares his plans to become a Healer himself. Ava is over the moon hearing this, leans forward eagerly, wants to know everything Ominis thinks. Her attention’s all for him, like she knows he never had a mother to dote over him like he should have. She probably does know, Vera thinks. She just knows things sometimes, in her perceptive way. And Ominis soaks it up.

Ava and Riley retire to their bedroom shortly after. “Have fun tonight. Just don’t burn the flat down,” they wink. They crawl into bed together, a bubble of silence hanging between them before Ava pops it gleefully. “So, which one do you think fancies Vera?”

Riley hums. “Sebastian, maybe? But it’s hard to tell. They might both fancy her.” His face is thoughtful. “I hope it won’t end in heartbreak for them.”

Ava glances at him, surprised. “You think so? I think they all have a thing going. Sebastian and Ominis, too. They’re such a tight-knit little group.” She gazes at the ceiling, a smile dancing along her lips. “Well, as long as they’re happy. That’s all that matters to me. Times are certainly changing.” Riley murmurs in agreement, pulls his wife close.

“You’re right. As long as they’re happy. I’m sure they’ll figure it out.”

At the opposite end of the flat, Vera, Sebastian, and Ominis lay in their separate beds. Awkwardness hangs like a fog above them. No one’s sure how to dispel it.

“This is odd, right?” Ominis’ voice is quiet, a little unsure.

“No, it’s definitely weird,” Sebastian answers. “Vera?”

“Oh thank Merlin,” she sighs. “I thought you two were going to stay quiet all night. “Get over here, please.”

Sebastian and Ominis crawl under her duvet, and the three curl around each other like cats. Sleep takes them quickly.

The next morning, Ava and Riley peek in, and Ava lightly punches Riley’s shoulder as they quietly close the door. “I told you so!” she whispers, a wide grin overtaking her face.

Two months pass in a flash, and Ava and Riley lavish Ominis and Sebastian with affection every chance they get. Ava knows, of course, they’ve all been through something traumatic together, in that way that mothers often know. But she isn’t one to pry. Just to love.

And as this time passes, Sebastian and Ominis feel themselves heal, bit by bit. The wounds scab over, and the horrors of the previous year begin to feel more like bad memories, and less like recurring hellscapes. The pain dulls, and the hole ripped in their lives by the events in the catacombs is lined with wonderful memories, the edges becoming smoother, easier to bear.

They’re sitting at the table one night, lulled into comfortable camaraderie by copious amounts of butterbeer and firewhiskey. They finish their third game of wizards chess and a companionable silence settles over them. Sebastian’s eyes dart from Riley to Ava, then to Ominis and Vera. He takes their hands beneath the table and they squeeze back reassuringly.

“Ava, Riley…can I confess something?”

They nod, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Anything, love,” Ava reassures.

“My uncle died near the end of term. Just before O.W.Ls. Um..it was just me and my twin sister with him. Our parents died when we were kids. Uncle Solomon was…he wasn’t good to us. I mean, I guess he was okay to Anne…she reminded him of our mother. His sister. But he hated our father, and I take after him. He…well, we didn’t get along. There were times when he hit me, and there were times when I hit him back in self-defence. I…my twin was cursed, and I was desperate to find a cure for her, even when Solomon forbade me from doing so.”

Ava straightens in her chair, realisation dawning in her eyes. “Anne Sallow?” she asks.

Sebastian’s eyes widen. “Yes.”

“I remember her. We tried everything we could…it was difficult, seeing her like that. I would have liked for her to stay longer, but your uncle, he seemed determined to take care of her himself. Took her home against our advice.”

Sebastian’s eyes are glued to the wood grain of the table. “That doesn’t surprise me,” he says quietly. “I was so desperate to find a cure for her I went down some paths I shouldn’t have. And it made him angry. But…I couldn’t stop. Vera and Ominis tried to tell me the whole time I was going too far, but…I ignored them. I wasn’t always a good friend to them. But I needed to save her. She’s all I had left.”

Ominis and Vera scoot closer to Sebastian, wrap their arms around him. “We forgave you a long time ago,” Vera murmurs. Ominis nods.

Sebastian’s voice breaks as he continues, a hint of the terrified boy he was at the end of term creeping back in. “I did something I really shouldn’t have. I trifled with Dark Magic, with a relic I found mentioned in a spell book. I really thought it would cure Anne. And that was too much for Solomon. He attacked us, me, Vera, and Ominis. At first, I thought he was just trying to stop me from using the relic, but after he destroyed it, he continued attacking us. I…” His voice breaks again, and tears stream down his face. “I think he was going to kill me. And maybe even Vera and Ominis. He kept hurling fire at us and…and,” his voice dropped to a whisper, “I killed him. It was either him, or me, Vera and Ominis. I chose us.”

He stares down at the table, not daring to look up.

Ava and Riley stare at each other, horror covering their faces. Vera observes them closely. She can see it isn’t horror at Sebastian, but his situation. The choices a young man felt he had to make. The path he went too far down. The tragic conclusion.

They close the distance between them and hug him simultaneously. Sebastian cries into Ava’s shoulder, both weightless and burdened. “I’m sorry,” he sobs. “You’ve just been so nice to me and I…I regret it so much! I don’t know what I should have done instead. And now Anne is gone, and I don’t know where she is.”

Ava kneels down, meets his eyes. “Sebastian…this was too much for you to deal with alone. I’m sorry…I’m sorry you went through all this. Your sister, your uncle, your parents…no, it wasn’t the right idea to get involved in the Dark Arts, but I can understand why you felt you had to.”

He shivers in her arms. “I’ll never touch them again,” he sniffles.

“I know,” Ava soothes. “I know.” She looks at Riley. They communicate silently.

“You’re forgiven,” Riley murmurs. “And you’re always welcome here. That extends to you too, Ominis.”

Vera’s parents lean back and look at Sebastian. “And we won’t tell anyone,” Ava says. “In the wrong hands, this information could really get you in trouble, even though it was self-defence.”

Riley nods. “I’m sorry people weren’t there for you when they should have been.” He pats Ava’s and Ominis’ shoulders quickly. “I know my daughter and Ominis were, and I’m glad for it, but this isn’t a situation that should have fallen into the hands of teenagers.”

Healing is slow, and never linear, Vera thinks. But maybe this is a turning point for Sebastian. Maybe the acceptance and love he needed all along can help him get back on the right path, redeem himself in his own eyes.

A week later, Riley and Ava usher them toward the Hogwarts Express. Ava grips Sebastian and Ominis’ shoulders, her voice firm. “I expect to see you all home for Christmas and Easter, and I expect frequent letters. Okay?”

Ominis and Sebastian nod.

Ava continues. “And you treat each other well. And you two treat Vera well. And Vera, you treat them both well, understood?”

They flush crimson, but nod.

Riley and Ava hug them all, an all-encompassing embrace that feels like home. Vera hopes it feels like home for Sebastian and Ominis, too. After all, that’s what it’s become for them. Home.

#hogwarts legacy fandom #hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy mc #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy ominis #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #hogwarts legacy sebastian #ominis gaunt x mc #sebastian sallow x mc #sebinis

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thiswaytwoinfinity · 1 year

Text

just be a prick • jamie tartt x fem! reader

In honor of the season finale of Ted Lasso (because I refuse to let go of my beloved himbos), here’s a little story I wrote about everyone’s favorite scorer 😉

Warnings: smut (oral, f receiving; protected piv) so 18+ ONLY, canon-typical cursing, no use of y/n, Jamie being Jamie

Also the pic in the graphic is just for aesthetics and not indicative of reader’s appearance; no physical description is included.

The worst thing about Jamie Tartt isn’t that he’s a prick.

You knew he was a prick before you even met him. It was one of those fundamental facts of life, one of those things that was so intrinsically part of being a human that you didn’t need to question it. The sky is blue, two plus two equals four and Jamie Tartt is a massive prick.

Teachers may as well add it to their lesson plans, alongside phonics and multiplication tables.

It was the first thing you thought as you watched his over-the-top goal celebrations week after week. It rang through your head, clear as day, when he offered to buy you a drink at that ridiculous, super-trendy club your friends insisted was the best place for girls’ night.

And it was the annoying thought that stayed in the back of your mind when he had you pressed up against the wall outside the bathrooms, those bright eyes sparkling with mischief while colored lights danced across his cheekbones.

His reputation made you feel comfortable, in a way. You could flirt with him, kiss him, let him take you home, content with the knowledge that this was what he did, that it was all in good fun and there were no feelings involved that could possibly get hurt. Jamie was an asshole, a cocky, self-absorbed pretty boy looking for a good time — and you were fine with that.

No, the worst thing about Jamie Tartt is that he isn’t always a prick.

He was charming and funny when he flirted with you at the club, effectively distracting you from the sight of your flatmate making out with Isaac in the VIP booth next to you. He surprised you by remembering details from the stories you told, by waiting for you to nod your consent at him before he kissed you, by wordlessly draping his jacket around your shoulders to keep you warm on the short walk from the club’s back door to where his car was waiting.

Jamie’s hand is hot on your lower back as he guides you into the house, your cheeks warm from a night of drinking and laughing and flirting.

You expect him to be all over you immediately, wanting to get to the main event right away, but instead he offers you a drink and gets back to the story he was telling you in the car about something Colin did at practice that made Roy’s face turn nearly purple with rage. You’re doing your best to follow along with the story — Jamie’s terrible Welsh accent and his impression of Roy’s gruffness would normally have you in stitches — but you’re distracted by the way he runs his fingers up and down your arm, almost absent-mindedly as he talks.

His fingertips are leaving fireworks all over your skin, goosebumps following in their wake like your body already misses his touch.

You let out a shuddering breath and Jamie smirks, the absolute prick. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you. “Y’alright, love?” he asks, his voice dropping down an octave and making your toes curl in your stilettos.

“You gonna kiss me again, or what, Tartt?” you fire back, voice sounding steady despite your entire body wanting to melt into a puddle on his obnoxiously expensive kitchen floor. Jamie’s eyebrow raises and his arm wraps around your waist, tugging you closer to him before his face melts into the smuggest smile you’ve ever seen. It’s a miracle you don’t roll your eyes.

“Yeah, babe?” he teases, lips ghosting over yours. “You that desperate for it?”

“Jamie …” You’re attempting to tease him back but his name comes out high-pitched, like a whine, and that infuriating grin widens for a millisecond before his mouth is on yours.

And god, he even kisses like a prick, licking into your mouth with the same confidence he has on the pitch as his fingers tighten on your waist. Jamie’s teeth nip at your lip and you let out a moan, your hand flying away from the counter that was keeping you upright in order to wrap around his neck and pull your entire body flush to his.

Your head is spinning, sparks exploding behind your eyes and by the time Jamie pulls away to breathe you’re beginning to wonder if you had him wrong this whole time. There’s still a ghost of a smile on his lips as he drags them along your jaw, across your cheek, to suck at that spot behind your ear that makes you moan. “Thassit, yeah?” he murmurs against your neck, “That’s what you were looking for?”

“Fuck you,” you huff out, eyelids fluttering closed as he continues to tease you.

“Trying to, love,” Jamie responds, pulling back to cup your jaw so that you have to look him in the eye as he winks at you. His thumb caresses your skin, and for a second there, you almost forget that this is Richmond superstar Jamie Tartt — it’s just you and Jamie, the gorgeous guy who chatted you up during a night out. You’re tempted to succumb to the thought, to pretend that this is more than just a hookup and there’s the potential for something more here.

It’s a dangerous thought.

You tangle your fingers in Jamie’s ridiculously highlighted hair and tug his mouth back to yours, shoving any of those stupid, romantic ideas in your head aside in favor of feeling. You can indulge in what-ifs tomorrow — for now, what matters is losing yourself in this moment and letting his touch chase away anything that could distract you from this beautiful, absurd man.

A soft moan escapes from his mouth and you just kiss him deeper, pull him closer to chase that noise out once more.

You have no idea when — or frankly even, how — Jamie managed to get you into his room with your dress on his floor, but you’re not complaining, not when he’s got that self-satisfied smile back on his face as he uses his teeth to tug your panties down.

“You’re a fucking menace,” you say with a laugh and, oh, apparently Jamie takes that as a challenge because he stops showing off and practically tears that scrap of lace off of you before diving in between your legs like a man on a mission.

“Fuck, Jamie. Oh my god,” you moan as he works his tongue with the kind of passion he normally reserves for game days. He laps and sucks at your core and your back arches up from the bed; Jamie works a finger inside your wet heat and crooks them just right and there’s nothing left in your mind other than a litany of JamieJamieJamiefuckyesJamie.

“Shit, right there … don’t stop, please,” you babble, moaning and whimpering when Jamie begins sucking at your clit just as he adds a second finger to join the first. He flicks his tongue against that sensitive nub, pressing his fingers right into that perfect spot inside you that causes another wave of wetness to gush out of you.

Your thighs are shaking, hips moving against his mouth and Jamie fucking Tartt is smirking as he eats you out and it’s so obnoxious but goddamn it’s so hot and you’re coming, jaw dropped open in a silent scream as your vision whites out for a second. His fingers work you through your orgasm as he coos at you, that Mancunian accent stronger than normal as he tells you how “fucking sexy you look right now, falling apart for me.”

“What the fuck?” you pant, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. “Oh my god …”

“S’ good, yeah?” Jamie asks, sliding his fingers out of you before popping them in his mouth and sucking them clean. You lift your head up just enough to roll your eyes at him before flopping back down onto the bed.

“Yes, it was fucking good, you fucking prick. That was … I’ve never — “

“Oh?” he cuts you off, one eyebrow raised as that cocky grin spreads across his face. His chin is shiny with your arousal and you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of complimenting him, but he clearly knows that he just blew your mind. Jamie crawls his way up your body and leans in, bumping his nose against yours as he brags, “I just like to make people happy.”

“Shut up,” you whisper against his lips, licking into his infuriating mouth. The taste of yourself is prominent on his tongue, along with the faintest hint of the vanilla vodka he drank at the club and the smugness that has been driving you crazy all night.

You’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, braced for the moment that Jamie goes full-on prick and selfishly puts his own pleasure above everything else.

But just like he surprised you at the bar and in his kitchen, by going down on you so enthusiastically, he surprises you by taking his time with you, drawing out two more orgasms with his fingers and his hips before his thrusts begin to get frantic and sloppy.

“Fuck, yeah, babe, you feel so good … so tight and warm,” Jamie babbles, his face pressed against your throat, hands gripping yours on the pillow above your head. “So fucking good, been doin’ me head in, driving me insane since I first saw you.” He lets go of your hands and slides his down your body, before wrapping them around your plush thighs and pulling, bending your legs at the knees and pressing them up towards your chest.

“Jamie, Jamie … Jesus, fuck, right there,” you whine, and he flashes a smile at you once more before he feels you clench around him with pleasure and his eyes fall shut. “So good Jamie, your cock feels so good. Pleasepleaseplease.”

“Yeah, you want it babe? You want to feel me lose it? Want me to come for ya?”

There’s something about hearing Jamie say such dirty things in that fucking accent that makes you feral and your head tosses back and forth on the pillow. One hand works its way back into his hair and you tug at the longer strands at the back of his head, making him keen and pound into you harder.

“Thassit, baby, yeah,” he chants. “‘M coming, gonna come for you, fuck … fuck.” With one, two more deep thrusts, Jamie lets go, spilling into the condom as his arms give out and he flops down on top of you. You can feel your walls fluttering around him where he rests inside you and he lets out one last little whimper.

You’ve never felt more like a goddess in your life.

Later, after he finally pulls out and disappears into his en suite to discard the condom, Jamie surprises you once more by gently cleaning you up and settling back into bed with you, chatting about the match Richmond has against Tottenham later this week. His fingers are drawing lazy patterns along your skin, lulling you into a sense of comfort as you cuddle up in his fluffy duvet.

You’re waiting for the awkward moment when you’ll have to get dressed and call an Uber before slinking out of his house in the early hours of the morning — but it never comes. Instead, the two of you talk and banter until your eyelids get too heavy to stay open and you drift off with Jamie’s arm wrapped loosely around your waist.

When you wake up the next morning (far too early, in your opinion, but Jamie says he usually gets up at 4 to train), he makes you coffee in his obnoxiously expensive Nespresso machine. You flirt with him some more as you stumble back into your heels and wait for a car to arrive. Jamie walks you to the door in nothing but his briefs and kisses you so intensely that the driver actually tuts when you slide into the car, cheeks flushed and a smile firmly affixed to your face.

He texts you later that day, a cheeky message asking to see you again soon with an appalling amount of emojis and as you feel your face heat up again, it finally hits you.

The worst thing about Jamie Tartt is that you could very easily fall in love with him.

Pls don’t delete my story readmore

Comments/reblogs are very much appreciated!

#ted lasso #ted lasso fanfic #Ted lasso fic #jamie tartt #jamie tartt: himbo extraordinaire #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt smut #Ted lasso smut #ted lasso season 3 #jamie tartt/reader #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt x y/n

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