#I have a few I’m debating on starting next I just dunno what one I’m in the mood for

[kastukj]

Read fish danmei and can’t read next volume for another month life is meaningless til then

[livwritesstuff]

for @steddie-week day 6 | drunken confessions

tags: alcohol, drunk steve, sober eddie, post-canon, vague references to period-typical homophobia

By all calculations, Steve shouldn’t be this drunk.

Eddie knows Steve only had three beers – one during Corroded Coffin’s set, and he was halfway through a second when Eddie finally caught up with him after the show, and he started on his third while they were hanging out at the bar.

(Exactly why Eddie knows this is entirely irrelevant, and it has nothing to do with how he'd had one eye on Steve throughout the entire performance trying to gauge how much he might be into it. Definitely not).

Eddie had seen Steve “Keg King” Harrington in the flesh enough times to feel pretty confident that he holds his alcohol better than this but…fuck, if Steve isn’t absolutely sloshed, eyes glassy, cheeks flushed red, and he doesn't seem to have any idea how precariously he's swaying in his bar-stool.

It's fine. Steve's a pretty quiet drunk on the whole, and Eddie gets sorta wired after shows – extra adrenaline or something – so Steve is mostly just listening to him ramble about whatever happens to cross his brain, which isn't a bad way to spend an evening, all things considered.

Midway through an entirely one-sided debate over the merits of starting guitar lessons on electric versus acoustic, Steve reaches over and pushes a curl of hair falling into his eye-line off his forehead with just the tips of his fingers.

Eddie trails off, losing track of his sentence entirely as his eyes dart back and forth between Steve’s face and the hand still hovering by his forehead. He blinks a few times, his parted lips just as forgotten as the end of his sentence.

Eddie knows there’s a kind of question in his eyes when they finally hold firm on Steve’s.

Eventually, after a few beats of silence, Steve supplies, “I like your hair.”

“Uh-huh.” Eddie lifts his chin, still looking at Steve like he doesn’t know what to make of him.

“I like you,” Steve continues, and Eddie feels himself freeze for a moment, a nervous kind of shock running down his spine because, fuck, he's big enough to admit he's fantasized about hearing those words come out of Steve's mouth more than once (way more than once), but his voice was also abnormally loud, and while it’s definitely an interesting little tidbit on Steve’s part, he really doesn’t need the rest of the goddamn Hideout knowing it too. 

“I mean,” Steve continued, “Seriously, I’m, like, super into–”

“Alright,” Eddie cuts him off as he grabs the back of Steve’s jacket, yanking him off the stool and dragging him down the hall, past the bathrooms, and out the back door into the gloomy alleyway. 

“Jesus Christ, Steve!" Eddie exclaims once the door firmly closes behind them, "You can’t just – fuck, man, you’re gonna get us killed!”

“No,” Steve argues, and Eddie’s eyebrows fly up.

“Oh, okay, never mind I guess,” he shot back, “Sure, let’s go back in there, maybe make out on the bar for a while. What could possibly go wrong?”

"Okay," Steve replies simply, reaching forward to clumsily hook fingers around Eddie's belt loops, "You wanna?"

“Uh, no,” Eddie replied, and he regretted it immediately when he saw the look on Steve’s face. He shook his head, desperately trying to course-correct, “I dunno what kind of boys you’ve been kissing, but I certainly don’t take advantage of guys when they’re too drunk to remember anything the next morning.”

"Not kissing any other boys," Steve slurs, "Just waiting for you." He blinks at him for a moment, then says, "Do you...I sorta thought you might..."

Eddie swallowed nervously, because despite his earlier comment, he doesn't actually think Steve is so drunk that he won't remember any of this tomorrow, which means he's gonna remember this: "Yeah, I like you, Steve. Jesus Christ, I like you loads."

And Steve's mouth split into the biggest, dopiest grin Eddie's ever seen, and, fuck, yeah, he wants to kiss him. He really wants to kiss him.

"Tomorrow morning too?" Steve asks hopefully.

Eddie can't help a little laugh as he nods, "Definitely tomorrow morning too. Probably time to head out, though, for now."

"Okay," Steve nods, and so Eddie untangles Steve's hand from his belt loop, clasping it firmly in his own when he's done (because he can do that, he thinks). As they head for Eddie's van, Steve adds, "Y'know, I bet if you rolled all the windows down I'd sober up on the way back."

"Sure you will, sweetheart."

[maiiuelle]

˚❀˚

the pogues take mario kart very seriously.

big john bought john b a wii when he was 10, and he and jj have been mastering the art of drifting and aiming shells since. spending at least part of the weekend stuck to the chateau’s small tv screen became mandatory. oftentimes, the crew would use a quick game to handle debates or disagreements.

“i’m tellin’ you. this plan is fool proof.” jj licks the inside of his lip, fixing his hat on his head for emphasis as he stares down a visibly unimpressed john b. “you don’t think goin’ in there—guns a-blazing—is gonna surprise ‘em?”

“i think they have plenty of guns to a-blaze at us, jj.” pope deadpans, pinching the bridge of his nose as he leans back on the porch bench. jj’s resolve doesn’t falter, he only shakes his head, looking between the other two boys.

“yeah—but that’s the thing—we’re faster, dude. i mean, you saw me at the beach, i was like—bow bow, bowbowbow..”

kiara bumps your arm, drawing you out of a daydream. you turn toward her, then follow her eyes to your blabbering boyfriend. “are you hearing this?”

you didn’t have to be listening to know his plan is absurd, but you shrug anyway. “i dunno, maybe he has a point.”

“sure..”

“y’know what, jj? i think we should settle this like men.” john b crosses his arms over his chest. “on the track.”

“guys—“ kiara starts, but jj cuts her off, pointing a confident finger at john b.

“you’re on.”

next thing you know, you’re sat on the couch inside, jj sitting beside you with a white knuckle grip on the wii controller steering wheel. he’s leaned forward, elbows on his knees in the most intense focus you’ve ever seen him in. they’re split screened, jj on the left and john b on the right, perfectly mirroring where they’re sitting on the couch. the ever so reliable john b chooses classic mario, and jj sticks to his routine choice, yoshi.

everyone’s eyes are glued to the tv screen, kiara leaning on the side of the couch, biting her nails anxiously, sarah sitting on the floor between john b’s legs, and pope sprawled across the leather armchair.

the boys are on their third lap, and it’s clear the competition is getting heated just looking at them. the first two laps were filled with shit talking and all around bad sportsmanship, but now they’re silent. neck and neck, they crash through the final round of item boxes, and the air stills as their respective power-ups shuffle.

“c’mon, c’mon.. big money..” jj mutters biting his lip. you’re enthralled, one hand resting supportively on his shoulder. with john b just a few paces in front of him, jj’s first power up loads as a red shell, and he immediately shoots it at john b. it hits him dead on, a cinematic slow-mo of mario’s go-kart sputtering to an explosive stop capturing the chaos of the room perfectly. jj springs to his feet, yoshi flying past john b’s defeated mario and through the finish line like a bullet.

“john b!” kiara shouts, hands flying to her forehead in utter shock as she watches jj cross the finish line in first. john b opens his arms in confusion, looking between everyone innocently. ���what? he’s getting good! i mean—what d’you want me to do?”

“man, you threw that.” pope complains, hands wiping down his face as he grapples with the reality that is jj’s elaborate plan. john b can only brush them off, which is easy with jj shouting over all of them.

he’s already hooting and hollering. “yeah! yeaaah, that’s right, baby. don’t start sum you can’t finish.” he throws the controller down on the couch, coming back over to where you’re sitting and grabbing your hands, pulling you up to stand beside him. you can’t help but laugh, his elation infectious. he pulls you to his side like a trophy, pointing at john b in satisfaction. “s’why you don’t challenge papa j to a race, ‘les you wanna get owned.”

“i can count on one hand how many times you’ve won.”

“whatever, man, this time actually counts.” his hands roam down your side, gliding his fingers down the exposed skin below your crop top and he burrows his finger tips under the waistband of your shorts. “looks like today, papa’s in charge.”

“great.”

˚❀˚

[sabraeal]

Just a Second Away from Being In Love (Or Alone)

[Read on AO3]

Written for @another-miracle, who asked for any Obi POV in Wide Florida Bay-- but hopefully an obiyuki one ����. It actually took me a while to circle in on which one to pick; there's a few that I had my eye on earlier in the timeline, but when it came to obiyuki bits...I knew it had to be this one, which starts off a small mini-arc in the established relationship part of this fic!

It takes him two hours and two pounds of eggplant, but after five minutes of this newest crisis of morale, Obi finally gives in: he going have to use his Phone A Friend for this one. Or at least someone friendly. Ish.

“Tell me this is gonna be worth it,” he huffs, contorted into nature’s worst pretzel shape; his newest attempt to locate anything that could pass for another pie plate in this place. No way Doc’s lived here for three years without putting at least five of the most grandma-worthy vessels for piping-hot fruit somewhere in the cabinets. “Tell me this is gonna be the best thing I’ve put in my mouth my whole life. A fucking paradigm shift when it comes to food.”

“It’s eggplant parmesan. You’re gonna wish it was chicken.” Kelly Ann clucks her tongue, and god, she can be a thousand miles away, but he knows she’s got a knee balanced up on her desk, head tipped back because her eyes can’t roll far enough. “But you just spend half an afternoon drying the most finicky vegetable known to man, so you can’t turn back now. You’re committed.”

That’s the sort of talk that would have given him a life-threatening case of the hives years ago, limping around Atlanta’s unforgiving streets looking for an Urgent Care more quickly than taking a jab to the gut. But now he just asks, “But she’ll like it though, right?”

Kelly Ann sighs, already sick of him. “Yes. The poor innocent you’ve tricked into thinking you’re boyfriend material will think it’s the best thing she’s ever eaten. Even Cal’s officer buddies eat it, and they’re more picky than the four-year-old.”

“I dunno,” he hums, hand-pulverized breadcrumb scattering over sea foam ceramic. “She cooks really good. Have I told you about the Cornish hens? They—”

“I have heard all about the Cornish hens. I am sick of hearing about the Cornish hens.” Obi’s mouth twitches. Gotta be hard for her, having to share the pedestal for Gayle’s Favorite Child. At least with someone who isn’t her own kid. “What kind of guarantees are you look for here? That it’s going to get you laid? It will definitely get you laid.”

“Kelly Ann.” If his hands weren’t covered in egg, he’d be pressing one to his chest, scandalized. “I wasn’t— I’m not doing this for sex.”

She snorts. Which, frankly, he’s earned. But he’s turned over a new leaf. Become a new, better man. One who knows that the most important part of a relationship isn’t what happens between the sheets.

But it certainly helps hedge your bets, especially when you’re as much of a fuck up as he is. Hell, if sex was an option, he wouldn’t be here, debating which hand he’d used for the wet ingredients and which was for the dry. Oh no, he would have been far too busy making her see shrimp colors to worry about whether eggplants stayed crispier fried or baked. But since he’d had fallen for her absolutely genius— though, as Yuzuri warned, biologically inadvisable— beach-dinner-sex seduction strategy, Doc’s on the bench for the next quarter, sexy-time wise, and he’s—

Well, he’s got to show her he’s got talents out of the bedroom too. Or, er, off the couch. And shower. Sometimes even—

Ah, well, non-flat surface based talents. Cooking’s supposed to be one of them.

At least, it would be, if his eggplant slices weren’t eating floor. “How are you supposed to even get these slippery bastards over to the tray? They just keep— fuck.”

“Just go slow,” Kelly Ann informs him with an aggravating amount of patience. “It’s not a race.”

“I am going slow,” he snaps, gingerly transferring his next slice to the rack. “There is no possible way I could be going slower. I’m going to be here for days just doing this. Years from now, archaeologists will find my body and wonder why I’m only halfway through—”

“If there was an Olympic event for complaining, you’d take gold five years running.” She can tease him as much as she like, but there’s no bite to it anymore, no sharp teeth waiting to take a nibble. No, he’s pretty sure that the stretch on her vowels means she’s smirking; the closest thing to a smile when she’s aimed in his direction. “Maybe you should be doing this for sex, it sounds like you might need—”

“You keep this up and I’ll ask Gayle when you’re thinking you’ll have round two.” His mouth is all teeth as he adds, “After all, Laila would make such a cute big sister.”

He can’t see her, but he can hear her seething on the other end of the line. “I know where you live.”

“It’s a fourteen hour drive at best and I’ve got Mom on speed dial.”

Her scowl radiates from the speaker. “Fine,” she grits out. “Guess I’ll just have to tell her we’re waiting until number two could have a playmate.”

Obi blinks down at her picture. “Huh, Toddy’s found some girl? That’s fast. He was single at—”

“I’m not talking about Toddy.”

There’s enough silence in the kitchen to make his ears ring. “…What?”

“Oh, come on, Obi,” Kelly Ann sighs, as if he’s the one being obtuse. “The only people you two were fooling at Christmas were yourselves. And now you’re spending a whole day pampering eggplant to impress her?”

“I had a day off,” he murmurs, knees suddenly as solid as his egg dredge. “And I don’t think battering and frying count as a spa day.”

Kelly Ann grunt, unconvinced. “Sure, sure, we can sit here and have you deflect all day. But when it comes down to it…you’re serious about her aren’t you?”

As a heart attack. Which would be fine, if they weren’t barely two months in to the longest relationship of his life. “I think it’s a little soon to say that, uh…”

“That you love her?” His heart beats so loud in his ears he can hardly hear her ask, “You do, don’t you? Love her?”

“Yeah.” It’s a miracle he can even speak with his mouth this dry. “Of course I do.”

“Have you said that? With your Big Boy words?”

He has to press his hands against the counter to keep them from shaking. A strategy that would go better if both of them weren’t covered in egg gunk.

“Ah, gotta go,” he gasps, already reaching for a towel. “Making a real mess of all this.”

“Obi—”

The first finger clean shoots out, cutting off the call.

“There,” he sighs. “That’s enough of that existential crisis.”

*

The eggplant’s fresh out of the oven and sauce just off the heat when the door opens with a shush, his own personal problem stumbling out into the living room, trying to toe her sandals into the tray. If he weren’t elbow deep with this casserole dish, he’d saunter out to appreciate her attempts; there’s a lot on TV nowadays, but none of it can compete with Doc nearly giving herself a concussion trying to unlatch one of those little buckles. TLC used to say you learned something new every day, and listening to her grumble approach swears without ever intersecting, Obi agrees.

“Oh, really.” Most people might be happy just to hurl abuse at inanimate objects, but not Doc. Oh no, she’s got to reason with them.  “This sort of…of…tomfoolery is very…rude. I think you should just…stop…if you would…”

He waits until the first tell-tale clatter and clunk, to call out, “Welcome home.”

“Obi!” she yelps, and oh, he might not be able to see it, but he knows that shocked look: mouth as round as her eyes, skin flushed down to where it meets the swoop of her collar. Extremely kissable, is what he’s saying. “You’re here?”

A tap of the sauce spool sends a chunk of it skittering across the stove, but he grins anyway. “Am I not supposed to be? Did you have plans? Maybe even naughty—?”

“No!” It’s more of a croak than a gasp. “No, I mean…you’re supposed to be here. I’m happy your here. You” —her voice drops, soft, like her pillows— “belong here.”

He thought he’d known all the ways a heart could ache these past few years, but when she talks like that, ah, he’d never thought it could feel this good. Or this terrifying. “You’re not denying the naughty plans thing.”

And she still doesn’t, going so quiet a guy might get suspicious, if he didn’t know— keenly— that she was still in the shop. Taking her nice places and making delicious, boyfriend-worthy dinners has been great; a bigger rush than sex in a bathroom stall. But still, when most of their nights involve staying in, settling into the couch the way they always did, just with the new, heady knowledge that they both are wanting the same things…

Well, there’s been a few inadvisable make out sessions. Exciting ones, the kind that involve hands going under shirts and down pants and wearing hoodies in eighty degree weather the next day. But every time they wandered beneath her shorts— or, more than a few personally exhilarating times, skirts— the mood swerved off the rails, ending things before they— or well, she could get anywhere. After a three-year dry spell, Obi thought a few weeks would be a breeze, a quick breather between rounds, but after a month of having her moan his name at just the simplest touch—

It’s a special kind of torture, he thinks as the other shoe drops. Especially when Doc’s never been one to behave.

“You are home early.” Doc doesn’t often get the jump on him— in shitty childhood vs playful girlfriend, there’s a clear winner every time— but this time, when her sweet voice pipes up from his elbow rather than the galley window, he does. “And cooking dinner?”

“Yeah, I, ah…” She’s always been a curious little squirrel, skittering hither and yon, but when she leans around him to catch a peek of his hard work, her breasts brush against his arm, and, well— like he said. It’s been a long time. “Haah…just needed to let some data compile for a diagram. Thought it might do better on my laptop on our internet.”

He should be playing Tetris with these eggplant pieces right now, but Doc doesn’t make it easy, not with the way she tucks herself against him, her front pressed to his side, a burning line from shoulder to hip. “Are those eggplant?”

One small hand traces a path across his belly, just below his navel, and— and Obi can read a room. Really he can. It’s just not possible that she’s putting down what he’s picking up. “Y-yeah.” He clears his throat, willing it back into an actual, grown adult’s register. “I, uh, got the recipe from Kelly Ann. She…”

Her wrist twists, just enough to dip the tip of her finger beneath his waistband, and oh god, okay, he can’t take it. “Can we talk?” he asks, desperate, one hand gripped around her wrist. “Just for a second here. Because I…I need some clarification, I think.”

Doc flusters, every visible inch of her skin red as she tries to slip from his grasp. Which is absolutely not happening, not if she’s barking up the tree he thinks she is. “S-sorry! I just…I thought…”

One tug sends her careening back into him, every inch of her pressed against every inch of him. Or well, most of them. He's got ten or so that don't quite match up “I’m not complaining about the thinking here. I’m confused about the doing, because I thought we weren’t supposed to, er…”

Do the doing isn’t really where he wants to take this sentence. “I thought,” he starts again, a shade more collected, “that you were in the shop.”

“No.” Her cheeks flush so pink he’s half tempted to bite them, just to see what she’d taste like against his tongue. “I-I mean, I was. But I went to my doctor today, and um…?”

Every muscle in his body stiffens, tense like a cat ready to pounce. “And…?”

Doc might be bold enough to throw herself out windows and into swamps full of at least three of his most deadly fears, but at the twitch of his dick against her hip, her eyes skitter back toward the counter. “A-are you at a good place to stop?”

The eggplant’s going to get floppy in the sauce, and none of it will be as good as it would be if he finished getting this in the oven now, but he can hardly care, not when she lets out a delicious little gasp as she bumps into the counter.

“What exactly did the doc clear you for?” he rumbles, leaning in to give her parted lips the barest brush. “This?”

Her fingers clench at his shoulders, as frustrated as the moan that slips from her throat. “Obi…”

There’s a warning in that, a promise for what will wait for him if he keeps up his teasing, and it only makes his next taste all the sweeter.

“This?” It’s a whisper against her lips, one lost when she swallows it whole. Those fingers yank him down, trapping him in this endless drag of lips and tongue, each one teasing out another moan, another shiver, until he’s nearly drunk from it.

One of his palms scrapes up her side; the silky material of her dress catches on his calluses before he dips beneath it, her nipple already pebbled against his palm. “This?”

His mouth drops to catch it, and oh, if he thought she’d been close before, there’s nothing but cloth between them now, her body arched to fill the curve of his. “Obi!”

She’s trembling in his grip, only the arm at her back keeping her upright, and oh, it’s nothing to trace his fingers up her thigh, to trace the edge of her panties. “This?”

His only answer is a whimper and the bite of nails at his shoulder. It’s enough; he shoves them to the side, the small hairs there tickling his palms. And when the tip of his finger slips between her folds—

“Jesus. Fuck.” His forehead rests against her shoulder. “You’re…?”

Wet. Soaked. His mouth is too dry to get out the words. He doesn’t need to, not when she nods, wiggling against his hand. “Uh-huh.”

“Hah.” He licks his lips, hoping she can’t feel how he trembles now, every part of him drawn as tight as a bowstring. “How about this?”

His fingers dip inside, two sinking straight to the last knuckle. God, he nearly cums right there, from the noise she makes. “Is this what the doc cleared you for, Shirayuki?”

She whines, a pathetic, frustrated sound. One he’d be happy to tease out of her again, if she didn’t reach down and pump his fingers into her again, like he might need the help.

“Haah,” he breathes, hard. “Yeah, I think I can help with that.”

By the way she’s moving, it won’t be enough. Not nearly enough for either of them, not with his cock straining his jeans, soaking them where it’s trapped up against the band. He grinds against her hip, trying to get some relief, pulling her even tighter against him as his fingers work, and—

“Obi,” she gasps, pushing his shoulders away. “We eat on these counters.”

He’d argue that, if they weren’t already sharing space with dinner. Instead he leans in, giving her one, long kiss as he drags his fingers out of her. “Your room or mine?”

“Whichever,” she sighs, hopping up into his arms, “is closer.”

[psychosistr]

Snake in the Grass- Chapter 1

Summary: When a pair of agents from Domino's past go M.I.A., he and Steelbeak are called on to track down the missing men. Will this assignment be as easy as it seems or will there be more to the situation than meets the eye?

Notes: This was a birthday gift for the amazing @eleanorose123 / @thefriendlyfour (though I ended up posting it late- Labor Day sales are an exhausting nightmare when you work retail xP). Hope you all enjoy this next installment of the "Falling Like SteelDominos series!

Another day, another mission that nearly blew up (literally) in the faces of FOWL’s chief officer and his partner. Thanks to some quick thinking on agent Dominic “Domino”’s part and good calls on Steelbeak’s side of things, the two top-agents had managed to escape the worst of the fallout when a certain annoying masked do-gooder decided to interfere with their operation- they’d even managed to get away with the information they’d been sent to retrieve and uploaded some spyware into the facility’s network before leaving. Whether the program had time to spread to other systems on that same network before things started crashing down around them was something that FOWL would have to test later, but the dangerous duo got what they came for and that was enough to satisfy their superiors for the time being. Now, the tired pair of agents were finally getting to enjoy the closest thing they’d gotten to a break in a while as they were flown back towards St Canard in one of FOWL’s small but speedy aircraft with the promise of some much needed time off awaiting them in compensation for a job well done.

“I dunno about you, Deedee, but I’m pretty sure I’ve got a couch that’ll be callin’ my name soon as I walk in the door- an’ I’ve got a sneakin’ suspicion it ain’t gonna let me go for a few days once it gets me.” The rooster’s sluggish movements definitely lent some validity to his claim. Steelbeak looked downright exhausted after all the running around and fighting he’d done during their mission, practically collapsed in his seat and looking like he might doze off if he stopped talking for too long.

His partner, while looking almost as tired as the larger fowl, had the good fortune of at least being less roughed up than the chief officer. “Your instincts haven’t steered you wrong yet, so you might be right.” Seeing as they were the only ones on the aircraft- aside from the pilot, whose focus was on getting them home in one piece- Dominic felt that there was no harm in showing a little affection to his exhausted boyfriend. With a tired but still flirtatious smile, the loon took the other’s off-white hand in his darker one and brought it to his beak for a kiss. “I don’t think I can save you from your couch’s clutches, but if you’d like some company while you’re trapped, well..” His other hand slid up to his partner’s namesake and dark fingertips traced along the familiar prosthesis. “I wouldn’t mind sticking around for a few days.”

No matter how many times he used that little trick, Steelbeak gladly leaned into the gentle touch everytime. “That’d be..I wouldn’t…hmm, yeeaaah…”

Dominic watched in amusement as the normally chatty chief officer’s words became less coherent until they devolved into that happy, content trilling and that adorably dopey smile spread across his face. Though he’d never said it out loud, this seemed to be one of Steelbeak’s favorite forms of affection- one that his partner was more than happy to provide whenever the two were away from prying eyes. While they’d both become more comfortable with small forms of PDA over the course of their relationship, Dominic preferred to keep this particular one private. It felt…more intimate, he supposed, something private and special that he was trusted with and he didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that trust.

Just as the sharp shooter was debating whether or not to give his dazed boyfriend a kiss, one of the small screens in the passenger section of the aircraft lit up with an incoming call notification. Less than pleased with the interruption, Dominic pulled his fingers away from his boyfriend’s beak and gave his shoulder a light shake to snap him out of his mild trance. Once the other man had blinked his world back into focus and seemed mostly awake again, the loon pressed a button beneath the screen.

To both agents’ surprise, it wasn’t FOWL High Command calling them this time. Instead, it appeared to be a regular mission coordinator and dispatcher calling in from one of the offices. “Agent Steelbeak, agent Domino.” The duck on the screen greeted politely. “Sorry to bother you two- I know you just wrapped up another mission- but we have a slight situation and could use your help if you’re up for it.”

Steelbeak, for his part, looked like he would’ve blown the screen up with his mind if he had that ability- the idea of more work after such a difficult assignment was clearly not something that appealed to him. Still, that wasn’t the dispatcher’s fault, so Dominic decided to speak for both of them to keep things civil. “That depends on the situation.”

Accepting the unspoken prompt for more information, the duck typed a few keys on their keyboard and brought up a map showing their aircraft’s flight path with a marker placed not too far from their path. “An intruder was discovered at this research outpost. The staff were cleared out and the building was blocked off to keep the intruder contained until capture.” A few more clacks from the keyboard and map switched to a pair of profile images that made the loon’s red eyes widen slightly in surprise. “Two agents were sent in to attempt capture, but have not reported back in almost an hour. You two are the closest-”

“We’ll do it.” Dominic’s quick answer surprised not only his partner, but the dispatcher as well.

“Oh, really? Thank you, sir! I’ll send the coordinates to your pilot A.S.A.P..” There was more typing as the dispatcher busied themself with their task.

Dark gray eyes looked at the loon inquisitively. “Friends of yours?”

“Somewhat.” Dominic corrected, his eyes still locked on the screen. “They were part of my team up north.”

Steelbeak didn’t pry, merely nodded and looked back at the screen. “Hope this’ll go better than your last team reunion.”

“So do I..” He looked at the profile pictures of a cardinal with a dark baseball cap and a green adder snake with a red shirt, a slight frown forming on his beak. Something in his gut told Dominic that this wouldn’t be a happy reunion.

End Notes: Chapters for this one are going to be a bit short to keep the pacing appropriate, but hope you'll still enjoy it ^////^"

Next Chapter->

[dreamy625]

This rockstar life - 3.18 Mixtape

Words: 801

Content: just some words. *insert self-indulgent fic writer waffle about writers’ block, feeling mopey, blah blah blah* 

—-----------------------------

“Um...so this is the...third go at recording this thing. I couldn’t think of anything to say. So I’m just going to play a few things, and maybe read something. You said… you said you wanted my voice so…”

I had, and just thirty seconds in, even through these crappy headphones, my eyes are already welling up at the sound of that familiar soft accent. I’d promised myself I would save it for as long as possible, until I really, really missed him. I lasted all of… thirty-five hours and seventeen minutes. Pathetic. It’s not like we’ve never been apart before, he’s always coming and going, but maybe it’s worse because I know I won’t see him for three weeks this time (‘No girls at rehearsals’). Of course there’s phones, but we suck at timing and end up just with snatched minutes as he’s dashing off to a photoshoot, or messages left on the answerphone at 2am. 

“Anyway… I think you’ll recognise this one from the album.”

I do recognise it, but it takes a few bars because I don’t think I’ve heard it on an acoustic before. It’s a little Zeppelin-ish done that way. It’s a real power ballad on the record, but I think I prefer it this way. It’s funny, I hear Steve playing all the time, but very rarely a whole song; usually it’s just the same bit over and over while he’s trying to work something out, or a screeching Jimmy Page solo to blow off steam! He doesn’t practise as such, I don’t think he needs to. Music runs through him all the time and he just picks up a guitar when he needs to let it out into the world. 

“This next one is one of Sav’s… I dunno what we’re doing with it. We did the demo but… too many ballads I guess. But it goes sort of like this.”

Partway through he breaks off - “There’s a solo… my solo… goes here. But I don’t think I can do it on this, so you’ll have to imagine.” There are some scraping noises which I guess is him fiddling with the microphone, then all I hear for a minute or so is breathing.

“I didn’t know what to talk about - you know me, not much of a ra-con-teuuur - so I thought I could read you something instead. So this is what I’m reading… trying to read. The Odyssey. It’s about this Greek king who fought in the Trojan war and then has all these adventures trying to get back home. It takes him ten years, and I think it might take me as long to read it, heh-heh.”

When he starts to read, his voice is whispery, hesitating over the Greek names and longer words, but he gets a little bolder as he gets into the rhythm of the story. If you’re a boy and you grow up on a Sheffield housing estate and go to the local comp*, reading is not exactly encouraged. At all, let alone classical myths. He has read a lot since then, in a rather scatter-gun, autodidactic fashion, but he’s not exactly had the chance to engage in literary debate, so he’s always afraid he’ll be mocked for misunderstandings or mispronunciation. But I love listening to him talk, about books, about anything. Sometimes I make him tell me stories when I can’t sleep, lying with my head on his chest hearing his heartbeat in one ear and tales of childhood escapades in the other. Oh god, this is not helping! I miss him more than ever now. I pull the pillow from his side of the bed and hug it to my chest, hoping the lingering hint of his smell and the even cadence of his recitation will soothe the loneliness. 

More microphone fumbling noises rouse my mind from its dreamy state. There is some mumbling, ‘how much tape…? Okay, let's give this a go’, and then strumming. Now this I recognise instantly; it’s my favourite Zeppelin song. That is so sweet of him. He starts to hum the verse and then, so low and quiet I almost miss it, ‘someone told me there’s a girl out there…’. Oh. Did I really…? Quickly I press rewind and spool back a few seconds. Steve doesn’t sing. Ever. He says he can’t. He mimes on stage. He doesn’t even sing in the shower. But that… that is most definitely Steve singing. Just a few lines, then he la-la-las the rest. I replay it three more times, then get scared I’m going to stretch the tape or something. I’m so… it’s like I’ve been given a precious jewel, just for me. Oh my heart. 

“G’night love. I’ll see you very soon.” and then the click of the recorder being switched off. 

—-----------------------------

* Comp = comprehensive school. Standard type of school for kids aged 11 - 18 in the UK

—-----------------------------

And that’s the end of part 3. In part 4, Lepps on tour!

[colemonroe]

“Well, to be fair,” he murmured once she turned around, “Ya make me feel swishy too, darlin’.” That was the honest to god truth. No one had ever made him feel the way Taliah did and it was high time that he just called it for what it was– Cole was falling for her, plain and simple. She was the first thought on his mind when he woke up each morning and the last before he fell asleep each night. Hearing that he made her feel nervous, Cole chuckled against her neck, his teeth casually nipping just next to her pulse point,, “What? Lil ‘ole me?” He teased, hardly believing that he had the power to make a woman like her nervous. Lips hovering near her ear as she leaned back against his shoulder, Cole eased out a soft laugh, “If I said it out loud, the devil might blush,” he warned, pressing in that much closer to her– like he couldn’t get enough, and truthfully? He couldn’t– not when it came to her. 

Smiling warmly as her hands came to rest against his arms after his nice, little struggle with the clasp on her dress, Cole knew he’d rather just fall into her like they had been for the last few weeks– he’d rather just lose himself completely in the one person who understood him better than he knew himself. But even for tempting as that was, he knew he couldn’t– not until he cleared the air and let her know how he felt. Catching her disapproving look, Cole peered down at her, lips pursing for a moment– at least up until the moment he pressed another quick kiss to her lips, “Hold that thought, okay?” It was another attempt on his part to reassure her that what he needed to say wasn’t damning– at least, he hoped it wouldn’t be. But how could anyone feel that confident or secure when it meant admitting out loud that he’d fallen for his best friend? 

Taking that as his cue, he left her with a quick wink and started for the roof– a spot that had always meant a great deal to him, but also held significance for them too. It was the first place they’d ever had a real, heart-to-heart conversation, the first place they’d felt safe with one another. It seemed fitting then, that Cole should ask her to be his in that same spot. Settling down on the couch the club had situated on the roof, he fought off the urge to light another smoke– Taliah herself would be all the soothing balm his frazzled nerves needed, even if telling her how he felt about her had his leg jumping in place and a hand running through his hair solely because he had to busy himself to keep from dwelling on it. 

Spotting her once she joined him on the roof, his lips instantly upturned into a warm smile– especially once he realized she was wearing his hoodie. “Oh, Jesus– not a conga line,” he chuckled softly as she sat down beside him. Taking the bottle once she offered it to him, he paused, debating a moment. While a sip might have certainly calmed some of his nerves, he’d rather just lean into Taliah. Smiling sheepishly at her question of what was on his mind, Cole lifted a hand to her chin and leaned in, choosing to kiss her rather than take a swig from the bottle. He was buying himself a second to think on how to answer, and maybe he was deliberate in taking his time with her too, savoring that kiss like it could very well be their last if this all went sideways and she didn’t feel the same. “You,” he answered quite simply once he pulled away, only to steal yet another soft kiss– because one would never be enough with her. “You and me, actually.”  Setting the bottle down, Cole cleared his throat, suddenly feeling that wave of nerves he’d been trying so hard to stave off. “Umm…” He started, knocking his head in a brief shake before reaching for her hands, needing that steady contact just to ground him. “I dunno how else to say this so I’m just gonna say it,” he murmured, swallowing thickly as he blinked down at their joined hands. Being vulnerable in this way was terrifying for him in ways staring down a loaded gun wasn’t. Tracing his thumbs over her skin, he nodded, almost as if talking himself into admitting what he’d been feeling. Lifting his eyes to meet hers, he offered up a small smile, “I’m fallin’ for ya, T.” The admission nearly winded him the moment it left his lips because this? It was something he’d never said to anyone. “Ain’t ever felt like this before,” he admitted, chuckling softly in disbelief because before Taliah, he’d never dreamed he could feel so connected to one person, and yet? Here he was, wanting everything with his best friend. “I wanna be with you,” he continued, nodding firmly because if everything else hung in the balance, he at least knew this to be true. Barring fear of failure, fear of rejection, Cole was putting it out there anyway, fully knowing she could shatter him if she wanted to. “So, I just–” he paused, stammering the slightest bit because words had never been his specialty, “I’m just wonderin’ if ya’d be my girl?”

"Because," she almost dragged the word out, as if somehow he should be able to read her thoughts and see why he'd made her feel swishy. It wasn't just the way he kissed her, it was the reaction that swarmed it, something that she hadn't expected. Maybe it stemmed from some sort of selfish feeling inside, to know that ultimately, Cole's boys, his family, thought she was good enough for him. At least, that's how she was interpreting it, hence, swish swish.

This unfamiliar road they had been walking together the last few weeks suddenly felt brighter just with the knowledge that the people around them approved. Turning around as instructed just before a fierce blush invades her cheeks, she grins to herself, "You have this way of making me feel nervous," she says softly, brown eyes fluttering shut as he peppered her neck with soft kisses. Melting into him was always the easiest thing to do, he only ever had to come close enough and she was entirely his. "I don't think that's the right word, but I mean it in a good way." She adds, following it with a quiet, mischievous little laugh as she drops her head back against his shoulder. "What'cha been thinking about?" Taliah purrs, her tone probably telling him all about that grin that he couldn't see, plastered across her features.

There's a burst of soft laughter as he struggles to find the clasp on the zip to her dress, hands that find their way to hold onto his arms after he unzips her and brings them around her. Honestly? She'd have been content to just stand there like that, in the moment, softening to his presence. "Oh?" The comment of a talk made her momentarily tense, but the continued affection was what kept her grounded, relaxed enough not to assume any worst-case scenario. And yet, when he pulls away from her, she can't help but pout, turning her head back to look at him with some kind of disapproval. "That wasn't top of my want list," just letting him know, before relenting into a soft smile. "But okay," Taliah nods at him, not so blinded by her own desire that she couldn't read the room. He needed to talk? It took priority, especially if he was passing up the opportunity to watch her undress.

It didn't take her very long to change into something more comfortable, casual shorts and strappy top, a pair of trainers. Grabbing one of Cole's zip-up hoodies from the room, she heads up to the roof with the half-open whiskey bottle in there. Was this an I need a drink chat? She wasn't sure, so better to be prepared, right? "Not sure how long we can stay up here, I definitely just heard Riley talking about doing a conga line? Now," she pauses as she sits by Cole's side, holding out the bottle to him. "I'm not entirely sure what that is, but I feel like I don't want to miss it." Chuckling, Taliah shuffled that bit closer to him and twisted to the side, giving him her full attention so he could talk. "What's on your mind, angel?"

[aliceblisss]

Under My Skin | Spencer Reid | 18+

Hotch has sent you and Reid to West Virginia to interview a serial killer. It’s a six hour long ride and three hours in on your way back you decide to stop at a motel since you’re both so exhausted. You can’t stand each other, so what better way to grow closer than sharing a bed?

————

It’s been nearly three hours of driving and after having to listen to a serial killer go into detail of his most heinous crimes Dr. Reid and I were exhausted. Not to mention the constant bickering between us has worn me out.

All that illuminates the highway is the full moon and the stars; it’s almost midnight and we still have three more hours to go.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep on me,” I warn the doctor.

He rubs his eye and blinks a few times before saying, “I’m fine”.

“You’re barely hanging on, I’m really tired as well. We should find a place to spend the night” I reply.

Spencer sighs knowing I’m right but hating to admit it. In the two years I’ve known him he’s never directed the words ‘you’re right’ towards me.

“Alright I guess. Where though?” he says begrudgingly.

“I saw a sign for a motel about a mile back. You would’ve spotted it too if you weren’t half asleep” I say teasingly.

I don’t see it but I can just feel his eye roll. “I’m not half asleep, y/n. I think you’ve entered the hallucination stage of sleep deprivation”.

“Right,” I reply with a dry chuckle.

~~~

In just a few minutes we make it to the motel. It’s small but kinda cute; not as creepy as most motels. We enter the the building and are met with a young man with headphones on sitting at the front desk. Spencer gestures for me to get the room. I presume he’s thinking ‘your idea, you pay for it’.

“Hi, do you have any two-bed rooms available?” I ask politely. I’m met with the young man’s not so polite tone as he replies “No”.

Behind me the doctor asks, “Any rooms with a bed and a couch?”

“Nah dude,” says the man behind the desk.

I turn to Spencer and say, “I don’t know about you but I just wanna sleep. I don’t mind sharing a bed, do you?”

He clears his throat and shifts his weight. He’s nervous. “No I don’t really care,” he says, feigning indifference.

~~~

Next thing I know I’m standing in a small motel room with Dr. Spencer Reid.

It’s cozy and warm. The walls are a muted orange color and are covered in vintage posters. The bathroom is extremely small but at least it’s clean.

Neither of us planned on stopping on this trip so we didn’t have any clothes to change into. That is except for the complimentary robes. I take one out of the closet and look at it, debating wether or not to change into it. I was tempted for various reasons.

A) I didn’t wanna sleep in jeans, b) it’s very soft and fluffy, and c) I know it’ll only make Spencer more uncomfortable and part of me wants to see that.

He notices this and asks, “You’re not gonna change into that, are you?”

“Why not?” I reply, testing the waters.

The doctor gulps. “Well it’s weird enough that we have to share a bed and now you’re thinking of being half naked?”

“Oh please, Spence, it’s a robe and it’ll be tied. Besides it doesn’t have to be weird unless we make it weird.” I say as I walk into the bathroom to change.

“S-since when do you call me ‘Spence’?” he slightly shouts since I’m in the bathroom now with the door closed.

“What do you mean? Since now? I dunno,” I shout back.

“It’s just—” he starts just as I’m exiting the bathroom with my robe on. It’s shorter than I expected.

“Hmm?”

“It’s just that you never call me that. Only JJ does,” he continues. I notice he’s fidgeting with his fingers now.

“Well we’re friends, no? That’s what a friend would endearingly call you,” I reply walking towards him.

“We’re not friends,” he shoots back.

“We’re not?”

“No. I can’t stand you,”

I sigh dramatically as I plop onto the bed. “When are you gonna get over that, Spence?” I repeat the nickname to tease him further.

“Probably never,” he’s now standing in front of me with his arms crossed.

I smirk at him, enjoying how much I get on his nerves. But I change the subject, “You know, I highly suggest changing into the robe. It’s very comfy.”

He watches me caressing the soft robe on my body briefly before replying. “Now that would be fucking weird”.

I snicker, “Fine, suit yourself.”

~~~

We both make our best attempt at getting comfortable on the bed that frankly feels like a pile of bricks. Add to that the feat of trying to maintain distance on the bed and neither of us can catch any sleep.

At one point Spencer abruptly gets up with a groan and goes to put on the robe. The room is dark but I can see his tall figure stomping back to the bed. And I can’t help but laugh.

“What changed your mind?” I ask.

“This stupid bed is so uncomfortable I figured it would help” he huffs.

“Did it?”

“No,”

I laugh again; finding all this very entertaining.

“Don’t laugh!” he whines which only makes me laugh more.

“Shut up y/n. This was your shitty idea,”

“Hey it was a good idea! It’s not my fault the bed is absolute ass,” I object.

He turns to face me, “We could’ve kept driving!” he protests.

“You were practically falling asleep!” I shout back.

“We could’ve switched,”

“I was falling asleep too,”

He scoffs, “Then how do you know I was falling asleep if you were falling asleep yourself?”

“Because I know! You always doubt me no matter what I say, God”. I turn to lay on my back.

“I don’t always doubt you and when I do it’s with good reason,” he replies.

Starting to get genuinely irritated I abruptly prop yourself up on my right elbow and face him once more. “According to who? You? Jesus Christ you’re pretentious”.

“Y/n I’ve been doing this longer than you so I think I meet the requirements to pass on that kind of judgment.” he says condescendingly, which only pisses me off more.

“Oh please! Bullshit. You’re just bitter because someone finally challenges your intellect. The pretty boy genius feels threatened by me.” I counter, now practically shouting in his face.

Spencer let’s out a loud sarcastic laugh. “Please, don’t make me laugh. In what world would you be a threat to me?”

“Just because I don’t go around giving people statistics just to flex doesn’t mean my intellect isn’t a threat to you.”

He scoffs. And I begin to mock him, quoting one of his various spews of knowledge. He tells me to stop but I obviously don’t listen.

“Y/n shut up,”

I do the opposite.

“Y/n shut the hell up! You are a nuisance.”

“Or what Doc? You’ll bore me to death with another statistic? Oh wait my mistake, that’s statistically not possible”. I continue to mock and tease him, genuinely enjoying how much I irritate him but also getting even for being such a dick.

“Y/n I swear to god if you don’t shut up in the next two seconds I’ll—" I cut him off with a swift motion only centimeters away from his face, nearly getting on top of him.

“You’ll what, Reid? Are you gonna make me?”

This wasn’t a rhetorical question. And I realized the fact only after saying it. I was actually expecting something from him, but I’m not sure what exactly.

His face starts to get even more red, the vein on his forehead makes an appearance as he clenches his jaw; never breaking eye contact. He looks like he’s holding something back. That only makes me want to challenge him further. So I say, “Tell me Dr. Reid, what are you gonna do to me?”

He’s breathing heavily, chest rising and falling. He looks like he wants to say something but softly shakes his head and next thing I know he’s flipped me over and now he’s on top of me, fully.

I can’t help but widen my eyes in utter surprise, for multiple reasons. In the time I’ve known Spencer Reid I’ve never seen this look on him. This mixture of lust and anger. His eyes filled with hunger darting in between my eyes and lips. I get the feeling that this is something he’s been longing to do; and quite frankly I’ve been waiting for him to.

He has my arms pinned above my head, exhibiting a strength that also caught me off guard. He gets so close to my face our lips graze with every small movement he makes, each almost touch sending shivers down my spine. He whispers, “I think you’ve vastly underestimated me y/n. You ask me that not fully understanding precisely what I would do to you. You see you have this irritating little attitude that I’d gladly fuck out of you. And if you keep on teasing me constantly I might just have to”.

Holy shit, I think to myself. That’s the moment in which I realize that this is what I wanted from him. I notice the wetness building up in my underwear but I don’t really know when exactly it started.

Spencer leans into my ear this time and whispers, “All you have to do, is say the words ‘fuck me’. And you’ll be a nice girl and say please.”

That was all I needed. Once he was facing me again I didn’t think twice about saying, “Please, fuck me”. Instantly his lips crashed into mine, or the other way around, I couldn’t really tell. He let go of my wrists to wrap his arms around my waist, slightly lifting me off the bed. I reciprocated by wrapping mine around his neck, pushing my body into his.

Our lips and tongues were entangled in such a euphoric way that I had to hold back some moans. I didn’t dare give him that satisfaction just yet.

After about thirty seconds his hands have made their way to the tie of my robe, quickly undoing it. Once it’s untied he rips it off me and throws it across the room with a low growl. He takes a moment to take in the sight of me nearly naked in his grasp.

“No bra huh?” He says between heave breaths.

I simply smirk at him in response and he gives me a crooked grin in return. With a look in his eye I could only describe as a little kid at a toy store.

“Beautiful,” he whispers.

He soon starts to kiss and suck on my neck and chest, desperately wanting to feel every inch of my body with his mouth.

I somehow managed to breathe out, “You better not mark me anywhere visible”

He replies in between kisses, “I’ll mark you where I please”. Which undeniably turned me on more.

Seeing Spencer assert such dominance was so foreign to me. But I loved to see the contrast between him with others and him with me, behind closed doors.

He makes his way down my chest and onto my breasts. He slows down now, slowly peppering kisses on my left boob whilst gently fondling with the right one. He then switches to licking circles around my areola. This time I couldn’t resist throwing my head back and letting out a moan.

“Fuck,” he says under his breath and continues to do his work. He teases me, not touching my nipple just yet. I groan, feeling a knot forming in my pussy. I grip the bed sheets with one hand and his hair with another, arching my back.

He looks up at me and glibly says, “Easy princess, or I’ll tease you more.”

A string of cuss words play out in my head, frustrated because he’s teasing me and I like it.

He then starts to lightly nibble and suck on my nipple. Which makes me moan louder this time. He begins to do it more aggressively and then he stops abruptly. My eyes which were previously closed shoot him a glare and he just smirks, looking up at me. And he begins the whole process again on my right boob.

This motherfucker.

As I grow impatient I quickly start to pull off his robe but he grabs my wrist with just one hand and holds them above my head once more.

In a mixture of moans and groans I spit out a “Fuck you,” And he bites my nipple in response, making me arch my back even more.

Once he’s finished with my breasts and my nipples are slightly sore he comes back up to kiss me once more. I couldn’t believe it was possible but this time with even more desperation. He pulls me up and sits me on his lap and I instinctively begin to grind on him. For the first time I feel his member and it’s rock solid. I untie his robe and he takes it off and throws it like the last one. His hands find their way to my ass and he rubs and squeezes. I leave wet trails from behind his ear and through his neck as my hands wander the muscle around his back and chest. He’s not exactly carved up but I don’t care.

I grind on him harder now, increasing my own pleasure and a whimper escapes his lips. The sweet sound only makes me want to grind harder but he suddenly grabs my hips and stops me.

“This feels good for me and I know it does for you too but tonight only I can give you pleasure. Understood?” he says in my ear.

I nod my head but he squeezes my hips harder and says, “Use your words, princess”. He unexpectedly cups my pussy with one of his hands and begins to rub; making it difficult for me to muster up any words.

“I said, use your words,” he’s fully aware of what he’s doing and he’s relishing every second of it. His lips twitch upwards in a devilish grin. Meanwhile I can hardly keep my eyes open.

“I-I understand,” I muster up.

Spencer tugs on my panties, “Good girl,”

“I hate you,” I say but don’t really mean it.

“I hate you more,” he says not meaning it either just before pushing me back down on the bed and then slithering down my body. He leaves wet kisses from my chest, down my stomach and up my thighs. He bites them hard then licks the spots to sooth them. Meanwhile my pussy is throbbing, if it could talk it’d be screaming for him to fuck it already.

He pulls my panties down with his teeth, never breaking eye contact. Once I’m completely exposed to him he parts my legs to get the best view. He lets out a soft chuckle; he seems amused and pleased.

“All this wetness—” before he finishes that sentence he runs two fingers up my labia and my breath hitches at my throat. “Just for me,” he says just before putting his fingers in his mouth and savoring my juices.

“Fuck Spencer,” escapes my lips in the form of a moan. I’m in complete awe at how this man manages to drive me crazy in every sense of the word.

“Do you mean, fuck me Spencer?”

“You already made me say it once,”

He pressed his thumb against my clit, “I can make you say it again,”.

I throw my head back and groan. “I want you to fuck me Spencer, please!”

He smiles, “Not yet,”

He begins to lick my outer labia, slowly. Making sure not to touch my clit just yet. A mix of curses, moans and groans of annoyance escape my mouth as I fully lay back on the bed, clutching the sheets.

He goes around my outer labia with his tongue shifting between stiff and soft and works his way inward, still not touching my clit. And then the first lick to my clit.

Moan.

Second lick.

Louder moan.

Third lick.

“Fucking shit Spencer just eat me out,” I blurt out.

He inserts one finger inside of me and starts to gently pump in and out. “Why so desperate to have me eat you out y/n? Does my tongue feel good on your pretty pussy?”

My breath gets quicker as his finger curls inside me reaching the right spots. How he can give me what I want whilst denying me of it, I don’t know.

“It feels so good!” I cry out.

Spencer genuinely can’t help but smile, he’s enjoying torturing me this way. “Good girl,” he says and next thing I know his mouth is engulfing my pussy. Godlike doesn’t begin to describe it.

The soft moans turn into cries of pleasure and I don’t give a shit who hears them. I can’t help all my movements so he wraps his arms around my thighs and holds them in place. His tongue swirls on my pussy like he’s drawing the most beautiful picture. My folds are his canvas and his tongue is his pencil.

I can’t believe it but I’m already close to finishing. The doctor is performing spells on me, spells I’ve never experienced with anyone else. He pauses to say, “I want you to look at me when you cum princess.”

Being obedient I prop myself up on my elbows and try to maintain eye contact with him whilst my eyes automatically close constantly due to the state of absolute bliss.

The pressure is building up now. “I’m so close!”

He switches from swirls around my inner labia to focusing solely on my clit with a stiff tongue. And in less than ten seconds I was melting in his mouth. The most electrifying wave rides over me and I cry out in pure ecstasy. My body begins to shake and my legs try to snap closed but he keeps them in place, still looking up at me.

He takes in all my juices and gently swirls his tongue in me as I ride out my orgasm. Whilst I’m in a haze. Once it’s over he gives me a few seconds to recover.

“You okay?” He lays down next to me.

“Mhm” I respond, still heavy breathing; as is he.

After a minute of catching my breath I turn to him to find he’s staring at me with a smirk on his face, again.

“What’s got you smiling at me so much all of the sudden?” I ask, crawling towards him.

“Nothing, just the sight of you moaning because of me. I’d much rather hear that than your constant bickering” he says.

I move over to his waist and say, “Yeah well it’s my turn to shut you up now,”

“I agree,” he says as he’s standing up from the bed. He takes my hand and leads me towards him. He grabs my face and kisses me briefly, then gently pushes me down on my knees.

“I wanna see you on your knees sucking my cock,” he says.

I smile at him and go along with it, looking forward to hearing more of his whimpers. I pull down his underwear which are plastered with precum. His member falls out nearly hitting me in the face. Not that I care too much about size, but it’s big.

I worry for a second about how it’ll fit but push the thought out of my mind.

I begin to lick the tip, making him inhale sharply and shut his eyes closed. I kiss and gently suck on just the tip of it. Then I start to suck harder and he caresses the top of my head, fingers tangled in my hair. After a while I take in the rest of him bit by bit; unable to take in all of it though. Various cuss words along with groans escape his lips. And once I settle into a steady rhythm I abruptly back away and stop sucking, causing him to whimper again.

Yes.

Once he realizes what I did his eyes snap open and he snarls. “Don’t tease me like that,”

“Payback’s a bitch,” I say with a mischievous grin looking up at him.

“You’ll stop sucking my cock when I tell you to,” he says whilst holding my chin.

“Yes Doctor,” I say with the sneaking suspicion he’d like it. And I was right, he bit his lip.

I resumed sucking his dick, this time picking up the pace. He held my hair in a ponytail and pulled it. I noticed his knees were getting weak.

“Shit y/n, you’re doing so good.” He moaned.

I knew he was close, his breathing got louder and heavier. And then he pulled himself out of my mouth making a pop noise. “As much as I’d love to cum in your mouth, I’d rather cum inside you tonight”

He pulls me up and throws me on the bed again, rougher this time. He begins to dig through his pants, presumably for a condom. But I stop him and say, “I’m on birth control,”. This must’ve been like music to his ears because he practically pounces me.

He attacks my lips with sloppy kisses, entangling his hands in my hair once more. He then reached down to rub my pussy, which is once again dripping wet for him. He then grabs his member and begins to stick it in with caution. He looks up at me to make sure I’m okay and even though it hurts a little bit I nod to let him know I’m okay. He slowly inserts it in completely and I wince in pain.

“You okay?” He asks.

“Yeah, I told you I want you to fuck me,” I say, not caring about the pain.

He hesitates but begins to thrust. We both moan almost in unison. He repositions himself upward, holding my legs up, slowly picking up pace.

After a while I say, “S-speed is g-good, harder.”

“You sure princess?” He asks.

“Yes!” I exclaim and so he doesn’t hold back. He thrust harder with a new force and every time it goes deeper it hits my g-spot. Soon enough we’re both a mess of moans and groans, cries and curses; calling out each other’s names. He lowers himself to get a better hold of me with one hand and choke me with the other.

He places a wet, long kiss on my lips before saying, “Cum for me princess,”

And just like that, like an act of magic, the familiar pressure builds up and releases through my body with a very loud “Oh fuck!”

My body convulses like the last time which makes Spencer reach his orgasm. A loud moan leaves his body along with his cum which fills me and begins to ooze out of my folds.

He gives me one last kiss on the lips before falling next to me on the bed; we’re both exhausted.

I start to giggle, “Holy shit,”

“What?” He breaths out.

“You just fucked me,”

He smirks proudly, “Yeah,”

“Eh, I give it a solid 5/10,” I tease.

“What!?” he exclaims and we both start to laugh.

“You’ve really gotten under my skin y/n.” He says once the laughter dies down. Somehow I know he’s not just referring to how much I irritate him.

“Yeah well you literally just got under mine.” I joke once more which makes us both laugh again.

“I hate you,” he says once again, not really meaning it.

“I hate you more,” I reply, not meaning it either.

[justauthoring]

The Words I Didn’t Mean

Prompt: Hi!!!! Would you be able to write a Bokuto x reader fic where they had an argument the night before a game. The reader ends up being really late to the game, so Bokuto is worried that they want to ends things with him and won’t be showing up at all. He is in his emo mode and the whole team is trying to help. Nothing works until the reader finally shows up and they have a happy ending!! Requested by: anonymous.

A/N: It got a lil rushed at the end :( but I hope you still like it! Pairing: Bokuto Koutarou x F!Reader

"He won't want to see me."

Kaori sighs, her grip on your shoulders never relenting as she continues to shove you forward. "You're being silly."

Planting the heels of your feet firmly into the ground, you effectively stop her constant pushing (pushing around the big baby known as Bokuto has definitely made you stronger then you were before), spinning around to face her. "I'm not," you huff, voice sharp, before sighing at the look she sends you.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you bite your lip, looking down at your feet. "I'm really not," you whisper, voice cracking at the end of it despite yourself. You promptly choose to ignore the pitiful look the third year manager sends you, glancing behind you at the doors to the game, where you knew Bokuto was. "He was really upset with me last night. I've never seen him that angry."

"Then, why'd you come?"

Blinking, you turn back to Kaori, eyes wide.

She just shakes her head; "you say he doesn't want to see you. Well, then, why'd you come?"

Flushing faintly, you fiddle with your fingers, biting your lip. "I dunno," you mumble, voice barely audible. "It felt weird not to come to one of his games. I've been to every one since we started dating."

Sighing, Kaori lets her arms fall to her sides, taking a small step towards you. "Look, I don't know what happened last night, but he does want to see you." And at the look of disbelief you send her, she quickly adds. "He does. He'd been a nervous wreck before the game, waiting for you to come. And when you didn't, he got even worse. Coach literally had to swap him out."

Your eyes widen even further at that. Bokuto was known for having his 'emo' modes, but it was very, very rarely ever bad enough that Coach had to take the captain off the court. He was Fukurodani's star player, and when he did get into one of his modes, he didn't take very long to give him the determination to get back into it.

But to be sent to the bench?

Maybe Bokuto was more upset then you thought he was.

"I'm not asking you to choose, I just--!"

"That's exactly what it sounds like," Bokuto interrupts, voice harsh and cutting as he glares at you. "You know how important these next few weeks are. I can't slack off on training!"

"I'm not telling you to slack off!" You all but scream back, your emotions getting the best of you as you all but forget to think rationally. "I'm just asking you that you tell me what days you're training, so I can at least be there!"

Bokuto huffs, and the action is so odd for the normally exuberant and bright-eyed boy that even in your distress state, it has your heart panging painfully.

"You'll just be a distraction."

But nothing hurts more then those words.

Lips parting, you struggle to the find the words. Bokuto has never said such hurtful words before, nor do you both ever really get into arguments. However, what has you railing is the fact that up until this point, you'd thought that your presence at both games and training had been comforting to Bokuto.

He always talked about how he loved having you there, loved being able to show off what he'd learned or perfected. He'd always told you that you being there made him feel like he was at his best.

Was that all just a lie?

“Oh,” is all you finally manage. All anger and frustration from before just dissipates with a single blink of the eye, and your heart hurts as you step back, moving to turn. 

You don’t say anything. You don’t see the realization that dawns on Bokuto’s face, of what he said, of how he hurt you, and you promptly ignore the way he calls after you when you rush out of the school gym doors, wanting nothing more then to just be alone.

It’s why you came late to the game.

You spent over a half hour debating on if you should come, after having gotten ready already. When you’d finally managed to convince yourself to come, and had arrived at the gym, you’d been about to turn around and go back home when Kaori had found you. 

Bokuto had told you you were a distraction. So, you hardly doubt he’d want you at one of the most important games of the season.

Still, you couldn’t deny that it hurt your heart a little at the thought of not being there for him. 

“Just... Just please, go in and you’ll see.” 

Turning back to Kaori, you sigh. “Fine.”

So, mustering up all your courage and strength, you make your way towards the gym, this time of your own free will, pushing the doors open with a sharp inhale. The game is in motion when you walk in, the sounds of cheering and the volleyball being smacked around the first thing you hear. As you walk past the benches, Kaori right behind you, you’re steered towards Fukurodani’s side.

You’re not allowed onto the court, but Kaori is quick to rush towards the coaches and Bokuto.

You frown when you see him; his back is turned to you, but you notice the specific notions and features that you tell you everything Kaori had said was true. His back is slouched, and his arms hang pitifully by his sides. His hair drops at the edges, turning downwards, and even though you can’t see his face, you can imagine the pout and the disappointed look in his eyes.

Kaori reaches him, and you can’t hear what she’s saying, but she’s rapidly poking him on the shoulders, until he finally looks up at her and then in the direction she points; you.

You inhale sharply when his eyes meet yours, and you offer a nervous smile, terrified that he’ll be upset that you’re here. Or worse, he’ll be angry. The two of you never made up from the night before, what if you were the absolute last person he wanted to see right now?

Not to mention, he’d made it perfectly clear; you were a distraction.

But, instead, his eyes brighten, and he sits up and there’s an almost sparkle that radiates around him as a bright grin crosses his features. He looks ecstatic, and almost like he wants to bolt from his spot on the bench next to the coach to you, but Kaori holds him firm in the spot, whispering something to him.

You glance at the score board, wincing when you realize the opposite team was about to take the second set and win the game.

Turning back to Bokuto, you realize he’s standing and the coach is debriefing him; which means he’s going back onto the court. Swallowing thickly, you move to find a seat, easily finding one near the front, close to Fukurodani’s side of the court. And the minute you sit, Bokuto’s already looking at you, a hopeful look in his eyes.

Mustering up a smile, you nod at him, giving him a thumbs up.

They take the second set, and then, the third.

Everybody cheering for Fukurodani lets out a collective sigh of relief, and even though you hadn’t been there to see it; from what you’d gathered the first half of the game had been stressful to say the least. Everyone was in shock to see Fukurodani’s star ace so out of sorts and not on his a-game which left you feeling a little guilty.

What were you suppose to think, though? After what Bokuto had said to you?

But, when the games over, and you’re left wondering if you should approach Bokuto or just go home; you’re almost completely knocked off your feet by the large body that comes flying at you. Your name leaves Bokuto’s lips in a cry and suddenly he’s engulfing you completely, pulling you close against you and practically leaving you no breathing room.

“I didn’t mean it,” he all but spits out, as if rushed for you to understand. “What I said,” Bokuto pulls back, holding you tight by the shoulders as he looks pleadingly at you. “Please, I didn’t mean it. Any of it. I was just frustrated with it all and nervous for this game and I wasn’t thinking. And I hurt you. I really hurt you, and when you left last night, I didn’t know if I should’ve gone after you. But I thought, I should let you have your space and then you weren’t here--

“Ko. Ko!” You call, interrupting him as you desperately shake your head. He falls silent to a halt, and your hands fall on his chest, gripping his admittedly sweaty jersey inbetween your fingers, shaking your head. “It’s okay,” you whisper, meeting his gaze. “I’m sorry too. I... I wasn’t being fair.”

“No,” he adamantly shakes his head. “You were just trying to be there for me, and I pushed you aside. I’m sorry. And Y/N?”

Gently tipping your gaze up at him, Bokuto smiles down at you.

“You’re not a distraction. You never could be. You make me a better player, you help me do better. I need you.”

And honestly, that was all you wanted to hear.

Eyes watering slightly, you lick your lips; “you mean it?”

“Yes,” he whispers, “a million times over.”

Leaning into him, you let out a sigh of relief; “thank god,” you let out shakily. “Because I love coming to your training and games, I love being there for you, even if I can’t actually be with you. Just watching is enough for me.”

Squeezing you tightly, Bokuto nods; “it’s more then enough.”

[teddy06writes]

could we have more sapnap x karl x quackity x reader maybe about how reader joins, or how the relationship is revealed, or angst, also is there a reason that anon asks are turned off? i mean it might just be me also cause i cant switch to anon, ik that hairbrush anon loves this blog and wants to request but they cant cause anon is turned off, (i know hairbrush anon irl so thats how ik this for some background context) sorry if this is rude

anon: “ Your karlnapity fanfics are sooooo good. I was wondering if you could make another one, it could be about literally anything and I’ll read it. Keep up the great work! “

sapnap x karl x quackity x reader

trigger warnings: swearing, mentions of panic attacks

premise: how you joined the Karlnapity poly cue

{also the anon thing was fixed once I got this ask}

“belp” talking

‘blep’ texting

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You didn’t meet them intentionally, far from, actually, you had only met Alex, the first of the boys you’d met, by pure chance.

Well, pure chance, and an asshole who didn’t look where he was going outside A hall.

~~

You had just emerged from your first class of the year, a debate class, with maybe 50 students total, and were immediately slammed into by some jerk who didn’t even stop at first.

You had fallen into someone, who after making sure you were stood up right began to cuss the guy out in Spanish.

“You got something to say to me, dick?” The guy had asked as he turned around.

“Yeah bitch! Why the hell did you push them?”

If you thought this dudes 5′ 9′’ ass wasn’t gonna square up to a huge football player you’d’ve been wrong.

“They were the one who didn’t fucking move, so don’t fucking start with me!”

“Bro you literally slammed into them! You could’ve fucking moved man!” He shoved the guys shoulder, “You didn’t have to take the asshole route, yet we’re still here.”

“Listen Dick, I don’t give a shit, they were in the fucking way.”

“Man your really looking for a fucking fight are you?” He shrugged off his back pack and let it drop to the ground.

The guys laughed, pushing up his sleeves, “I could take your scrawny ass any day, chicca.”

Before he had a chance to blink a fist had been launched toward his face, catching him right in the jaw.

He stumbled back, looking almost as surprised as the guy you’d tripped into, who was looking down at his own fist, clearly in pain.

“Oh you little bitch!” The jock growled, moving to punch him back.

Quickly you scooped up his bag, shoving it into his arms, “We gotta go!!” You shoved the guy, grabbing your saviors hand and tugging him along as you started to run.

As you dodged around campus, trying to lose the yell of the jock behind you the guy who you’d dragged with, offered, “I’m Alex.”

“(y/n),” You slowed to a stop, “I think we lost him.”

Alex nodded, wincing as he examined his knuckles.

You took his hand, checking over it carefully, “It’ll bruise hard, you might not have full dexterity for a while. That’s what you get for punching someone without preparing,” You chuckled, glancing around, “My dorm’s not more than five minutes away, if you don’t have another class to get too, we can go get you some ice.”

“That’d be good.” He winced.

After taking him back to your dorm and getting his hand iced, he disappeared, saying he was late to meet someone, and you rarely saw him again except for your debate class, where you hardly spoke.

~~ You’d met Nick not too long after, though this time, pure chance was more purely your friend George catching you sneaking out of a party you didn’t want to be at.

“Seriously (y/n)? It’s barley even been an hour!” The brit yelled.

“It’s way too loud in there,” You hissed, motioning to the frat house, “I can’t hardly think, let alone stand it.”

“George! Get back in here! Clay challenged someone to a drinking contest and it about to start!” Someone yelled from the house.

“Yeah, in a second Sapnap!” He called before turning back to you, “Stay a little while longer?”

“I don’t want to be here.” You growled, but he was already dragging you back towards the house, saying:

“Come on, it’ll be entertaining if he wins and if not, well, it’ll still be pretty funny.”

Sighing, you allowed yourself to be pulled back inside, following George through to where Clay stood across a counter from a curly dark haired man, and Niki, a woman you’d met a few weeks prior, quietly pouring shots.

“Now the only reason I’m letting you do this Wil, is cause I know you won’t be able to do more than three.” She muttered, sliding the shots between them.

George laughed, “This is gonna be great!”

You sighed, moving to stand back against one of the walls, next to a dirty blonde man, who said, “You don’t look to happy to be here.”

“Not a fan of the noise.” You muttered, rubbing at your forehead.

He nodded, “Makes sense, one of my boyfriends doesn’t like the noise either. I’m Nick.”

“Didn’t George just call you Sapnap? What is with people around here and having weird nicknames?” You shook your head with another sigh, “I’m (y/n).”

“I dunno. Half the people I know at this school have weird nicknames,” He began to point at various people around the room, “Dream, Fundy, Skeppy, Hbomb, Quackity’s around here somewhere. Hell I even know someone who calls himself ‘Technoblade’.”

“Sounds like a prick.” You chuckled.

Nick nodded, “Oh he is.”

You continued to talk for a while, watching as Wilbur tried to out drink Clay, and failing miserably not to laugh when he nearly fell down, totally wasted.

“Hey, uh I think we should head out. I feel bad leaving Kar...” Alex trailed off as he realized you were standing with Nick, “Hey, your uh, (y/n) right?”

“Yeah, Alex, you almost busted your knuckles trying to fight McAllen outside debate with Fenner.” You chuckled.

Nick turned to Alex, “You what?!”

“uhh...” he stuttered nervously.

“You told Karl you fell!”

“In my defense he pushed- no not even- he slammed into (y/n)!” Alex said desperately.

“He did, Alex was just defending me,” Alex grinned at your addition, “But...” his face fell, “This one also is essentially just an angry chihuahua.”

“Dude!”

Nick chuckled, “Their right. You are an angry chihuahua.”

Alex rolled his eyes, glancing at his phone, “We should go, Karl’s texting me angry emojis.”

Nick nodded, “It was nice to meet you (y/n).”

“You too.” You smiled, and then they were gone again.

~~

You didn’t meet Karl for almost a month after that, only encountering the man in the colorful sweater when you had been left sitting alone in the dining hall, after a late night study session.

Niki had left a few minutes earlier, but it was long enough that he’d assumed you’d been sitting alone.

“Oh hey, sorry I’m late!” He had called, just a hair too loud.

You blinked up at the mousy haired boy, confused for a moment, before motioning for him to sit down, “It’s okay.”

The few people still left in the hall barley paid attention, so you stifled a laugh, “I wasn’t waiting for someone, my friend just left actually.”

His face got red, “Oh, I- sorry- I’ll just leave then.”

He started to stand up but you held out a hand, “No- uh- you, can stay. I don’t mind.”

He grinned, “I’m Karl! Karl Jacobs!”

“I’m (y/n). Thank you for trying to save me from mild embarrassment.”

“It was nothin, just don’t think people should have to be alone.”

You giggled, “Knight in shining armor.”

That made Karl grin even more, giggling a bit as he asked, “Whatcha working on?”

“Oh, Niki and I were just studying for finals, it may be a few weeks away but I want to be ready.” You chuckled.

“Man, I’m glad I’m only taking one class this semester.”

“Lucky.” You sighed, tucking the last of your papers into folders and stowing them away in your bag, “No late night cram sessions for you then.”

“Nah, my boyfriends’ll rope me into helping them study.”

“Thats the price you pay.” You chuckled.

He nodded solemnly, “A price I am very willing to pay.”

“They sound like lucky guys.” You smiled wistfully, quietly wondering why all the cute guys you’d been meeting were dating, either other people, or each other.

Karl not noticing the almost bitterness in your voice chirped, “Yup!”

~~

“Come on! They’d love you!” Karl exclaimed.

You’d been becoming friends with Karl over the last few months, and now he was begging you to go and meet his partners.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah!” Karl was practically bouncing up and down, “Your like the best! I want my boys to meet you!”

You groaned, letting your head fall into your hands, “Fine.”

“Yay!” Karl giggled, tugging at your wrist, “Come on!”

You looked up from the table at him. “Right now?”

“Yeah, I was suppose to be meeting them at the library.”

Sighing you stood up, “I hate this.”

He smiled sympathetically, “Sorry.”

You slipped your bag over your shoulder, and followed him out of the dining hall towards the library, trying to ignore the stupid feeling in your stomach at his hand in yours.

Upon reaching the library Karl excitedly dragged you over to a table in the corner where your stomach dropped upon seeing who was sitting there.

“(y/n)?” Alex asked.

You chuckled, “Snapmap and Chihuahua boy, I didn’t realize this Karl was your Karl.”

Karl looked confused, looking back and forth between you and his boyfriends, “You guys know each other?”

“That one talked to me at a party when my friends all but ditched me,” You pointed at Nick, and then too Alex, “That one tried to fight someone who bumped into me.”

“Thats- you know what, I’m not gonna ask.” Karl said, plopping down next to Alex.

You sat down on the opposite side of the table next to Nick, “Karl you text in angry emojis?”

~~

Over the next few weeks Karl continued to drag you along to various study sessions, movie nights and other things you assumed would normally just be the three of them, making you confused heart even more confused.

It was strange that they willingly let you intrude on there dates, and any time you tried to bring it up with Karl he’d just brush it off, and if you mentioned it to Nick or Alex, they’d say something about how they were good with it cause Karl was.

And then one night, you were all piled up on the fire escape of the boys apartment building, Alex had just gotten back from a seminar, and was half curled on Nick’s lap, legs stretch across Karl, who was also leaning against Nick.

You quietly hummed a song you heard Wilbur playing, freezing as Karl tugged on your hand, pulling you closer to lean on him, Nick’s arm stretching just a bit farther to wrap around your waist as well, almost cementing you into the moment.

“I like this.” Karl murmured.

Alex nodded sleepily, and Nick looked at your over Karl’s head, “(y/n), uh- I guess we’ve been meaning to- uh- to ask-”

“He means, do- do you want to join this relationship?” Alex asked, cutting him off.

You blinked, surprised, and Karl quickly started talking in your silence, “You don’t have too, we just figured, you know, we, really like, you and- it- we think you like us-”

Cutting him off, you grabbed the sides of his face, quickly pressing your lips to his, and then pulling away, you leaned over to kiss Nick, and then Alex.

“I knew there was a reason you kept letting me in on your dates!”

[twink-between-worlds]

therapy wolf

Hi yes Twilight h/c

Twilight is the chain’s therapy wolf.

Even when he isn’t in his wolf form, he provides them with what they need to make it through the day. He’s holding them all together and.. Twilight can’t let himself open up about how he feels because of it. He’s tired of everything, but he has to be there for the others. He has to be. They don’t have anyone else. “Hey ranch hand.” Twilight glanced to the side, watching as Legend sat next to him. “Vet..something wrong?” Legend sighed, debated with himself, before nodding. “Yeah.” “Wanna talk about it?” “Yeah.” Twilight sighed, removing his pelt in preparation. “Go on. I’m listening.” Legend frowned, playing with his rings. Something’s really wrong. “Do you ever wish you hadn’t done something? Even if the thing you did was deemed good?” Twilight paused for a little while. He had a conversation with Four a while ago that started the same way as this one. “Sometimes.”Twilight eventually spoke, shrugging. “Why?” “I dunno.”Legend sighed, and Twilight frowned. When it comes to these conversations, Legend is one of the few who are extremely vague about what’s wrong, and Twilight hates that. But he’ll be patient. “Legend, is there something you regret doing?”Twilight tried, sitting up straight. Legend made a frustrated noise, before hiding his face in his hands. Twilight gently put his pelt around Legend, waiting for him to speak. “It’s my fault.”Legend whispered, refusing to look up. “Twilight, a whole island is gone because of me..” Twilight didn’t mean to, but he jolted slightly in surprise. He wasn’t expecting a confession like that. “Legend...I...I doubt that’s true-” “It is. I shouldn’t have done what I did.”Legend snapped softly, then sighed. “I’m...sorry I..I’ll go.” “Legend-” Twilight couldn’t finish his sentence, as Legend simply gave the pelt back and walked off. Twilight let out a sigh as he watched Legend leave.

He’s stressed. He’s stressed, tired and..lonely. Twilight feels so fucking lonely. He knows he’s not alone, but the feeling doesn’t go away. He wants to talk to someone. Anyone. He doesn’t really care who it is. “Rancher?” Twilight let out a frustrated sigh, mentally preparing himself for enduring more therapy. “Captain. Something wrong?” “No.”Wars shook his head, sitting next to Twilight. “Are you okay?” Twilight hates it, but that question broke him. The rancher broke down into tears, burying his face into his hands. He can’t be crying right now. He’s gotta be strong for the others. Wars frowned, gently rubbing Twilight’s back. “That’s a no then. What happened?” “I'm—I’m sorry-” “Twi.”Wars sighed. “Don't apologize. Just..tell me what's wrong. Please?” Twilight took a couple breaths.  He isn't sure if he wants to tell him but..  He will.  “Warriors I..I love helping people. I do. But..I don't think I can hold everyone together when I'm not even holding myself together..everyone needs me and I don't know if I can be there for them.” Wars sighed, pulling Twilight into a hug.  These two don't interact a lot, but they do still care about each other. For reasons only they know.  “You don't have to be the therapy friend—” “I want to be. But it's difficult. I want to be there for the others but-” “But you've got nobody to talk to about your problems, huh?”When Twilight nodded, Wars continued. “Not even Time?” “I..I don't wanna bother him, Wars. I don't have anyone..” “..you have me.”Wars shrugged. “I'm listening to you right now.” “Yeah but—” “Twilight, listen to me.”Wars sighed, looking at him. “If you need to talk to someone about your problems, you always have me. Alright?” Twilight paused, then nodded. “Alright..” “Now c’mere.”Wars pulled Twi closer, letting him rest his head on him.

Twilight stayed quiet, shutting his eyes.

[professorspork]

If you're accepting non-superhell prompts, I'd love to see a conversation between Nora and Emerald! I've been REALLY loving these microfics, I've subscribed to you on Ao3, I'll read whatever else you write

[Gahhh that’s so nice you’re so nice!! thanks for being patient on this one, finding my Nora took some doing]

It’s occurring to Emerald that she’s never had a close female friend before.

You say that like you’ve ever had any friends before, the voice in her head that sounds suspiciously like Mercury needles her, but she brushes it aside. Like—okay, yeah, she’ll concede the point when it comes to Cinder. In hindsight, whatever they’d had going on between them may have been... super intense... but it probably had never been friendship, in the usual definition. But she and Mercury were friends, no matter what the judgy little shitstain version of him who lives in her head has to say about it. They’d always gotten along. Told each other stuff. It’s not like there’s more to it than that, right?

It had always been like that. Been—instinctive somehow, with guys. Before Cinder, on the street, it was always the men who’d been easiest to manipulate; who would empty their pockets for a smile and a sob story. And then she and Merc had been two sides of the same coin for so long, and then... well, Hazel’d liked her enough to die for her, apparently. (Which—that’s a door that she keeps closed, thanks. She shuts it firmly again, now.) Oscar seems fond of her, in a sweet, uncomplicated sort of way that she really doesn’t know what to do with, seeing as he shares headspace with like a trillion year old man and the idea that anything to do with that kid could be “uncomplicated” is batshit. Ren vouched for her once, and then again, and now he keeps doing it, like it’s habit, like she should just be used to the fact that people are going to have her back, to ask her if she’s eaten, to turn to her with a raised eyebrow in conversation like her opinion would be constructive.

Anyway.

Now that she’s noticed the pattern, it seems like the kind of thing she should probably… work on, or whatever. And Nora seems like an obvious place for Emerald to start. They’ve been thrown in together a lot, lately, Emerald and Oscar expected to fill in the gaps of what’s left of the old JNPR by default. Not that they’ve ever really had a conversation about it—Emerald can’t think of the last time Nora said two words to her that weren’t combat warnings like “more Grimm coming” or “on your left,” but. That’s probably just because things have been tense. She remembers Nora being friendly, on the whole of it. Off-puttingly friendly, even, back at Beacon.

How hard could it be?

The answer, it turns out, is absurdly hard. Nora’s barely ever in the temporary barracks they’re all living out of, instead always checking on the refugees, going on supply runs over esoteric requests, volunteering for extra patrols. Emerald used to find that kind of dogged do-goodery gag-inducing, but now that she’s been the helping hand herself a few times, she’s starting to see the appeal. The way people look at you when you’ve been of service, it’s—nice. Really nice. But Nora works utterly thankless jobs, the kind most people don’t even notice, let alone appreciate. And when they have their insufferably long leadership meetings and they’re talking about distribution of resources or whatever, Nora’s a fierce debater—jumping in to advocate for the people from Mantle sometimes even before May can. As far as Emerald can tell, she does this stuff just because... she believes in it. Because it’s the right thing to do, and someone has to.

She can’t imagine what it would feel like, to have the attention of someone like that turned on her. She’s craved it from the wrong people for so long, but now that she has her pick of options... she’s letting herself actually want the right kind, for once. She thinks.

Which is all to say that largely through no fault of her own, Emerald unexpectedly finds herself sitting with a profound, fervent desire for Nora Valkyrie to think she’s cool.

She hates that.

-

Fighting with Nora is easy.

(—er. Alongside. Fighting alongside Nora is easy. Emerald’s done fighting with these people. Very done.)

It’s weird, because Emerald’s finding working with a full team to be a real adjustment. When battles get big enough to merit it, she’s used to keeping to the sidelines to use her Semblance for nefarious purposes, or, in a jam, used to having Mercury’s six—literally, because all the forward momentum from his feet-first style always left his back wide open. Figuring out where to put herself so that Oscar can use her shoulder as a fulcrum as he dodges, or trying to aim for the Grimm Ren isn’t already shooting (ugh)—it’s taking work.

But somehow, it’s not work for Nora. Nora seems to anticipate with perfect ease how Emerald will move or what she’ll be doing; Nora bobs and weaves around their ragtag little band with her war hammer like it’s breathing.

It doesn’t bother Emerald until it does, and she means to bring it up casually but there’s never a good time. So it just… stews, and stews, until she can’t keep it bottled up anymore.

Which means that instead of the earnest question she intends it to be, it comes out like this:

“Okay, seriously? It’s creepy how you do that.”

It’s just the two of them, plus the handful of dweeby Atlesian tech-types they’re escorting back from their foray installing some fancy hydro-filtration modules on the outskirts of the camp. And it’s not like Emerald had felt outmatched by the half-dozen Ravagers that had decided they looked like lunch—she can shoot Ravagers in her sleep, at this point—but still. The way Nora had moved around her, it was like they’d been fighting side by side for years.

Nora just cocks her head to the side. “Do what?” she asks, like she hadn’t just basically read Emerald’s mind in front of the water nerds.

Emerald does a complicated gesture with her hands, wrist over wrist, and then flicking two fingers—trying to evoke the way Nora had flipped over Emerald’s back and then kicked off, just trusting Emerald would reel her back in with a chain in midair before a Grimm could fly away with her sorry ass. “That.”

“Oh!” Nora laughs and rubs at the back of her neck, looking sheepish. “It’s nothing. I guess it’s just not a big deal for me? Like—I was there when Ren built StormFlower. The cables are newish, but we practiced so much back in Atlas… I dunno. It’s just reflex, when your weapons are so similar. Fighting with you, it’s almost like fighting with him. I don’t even have to think about it.”

Nora swallows, then, and makes a face Emerald can’t interpret—disappointed, maybe, or ashamed. Which: good. She probably should be, taking things for granted like that.

“Well—just—” Emerald’s not even sure what she wants to say. Ask, next time? Don’t? “You shouldn’t make assumptions. I’m not your boyfriend, okay?”

The venom she puts behind the word is directed more at herself than Nora—frustrated, again, that she’s put herself in the position of wanting so desperately to be liked.

Pathetic.

Nora just nods, looking glum.

“Yeah,” she murmurs, cheeks pulling in a bitter smile. “You’d think I’d be able to keep that one straight, huh?”

She says it with such pointed irony that for a second Emerald wonders if she’d gotten it wrong somehow, but like—Nora and Ren are a thing, right? That’s—everyone knows that.

“Hey, what—?”

“Let’s just go,” Nora says, and Emerald automatically falls into line behind her.

They make the rest of the walk back in silence.

-

Sometimes at night, when she can’t sleep, Emerald likes to climb up to the roof of the barracks and look out over the refugee camp.

It’s—peaceful, is all. A good reminder of where she is; how far she’s come. The night sky in Vacuo has more stars than she’s ever seen, and being able to watch over all these people who have somehow become her responsibility… well.

A part of her will always be standing on the rooftop at Beacon, looking down on pure chaos as a queasy, frightened sensation twists in her gut and its noxious voice whispers you did this, you did this, you did this. What did you think was going to happen, you stupid little girl? You don’t get to feel sorry for it now.

But she does.

Weird how the only thing that’s helped is actually doing something about it.

She hears a scuffling noise over her shoulder, and she’s got Thief’s Respite drawn and ready before she can even really register what she’s heard. She relaxes when she sees it’s Nora at the other end of the barrels, unarmed and hands raised—a funny little smile on her face, like yeah, fair enough, I should have known better than to try and sneak up.

“Just me,” she says, unnecessarily.

Emerald holsters her guns. “Can I help you?” she asks, and—what is it about her voice, that makes sentences that would be nice if any other human said them come out straight-up hostile?

Nora shrugs, hands dropping to her sides. “I was hoping we could talk; I figured you’d come up here if I waited long enough.”

Well, see—what kind of lesson is she supposed to take from that? She’s been hoping for Nora to talk to her for weeks, and acting like a bitch is the thing that gets her what she wants? Good guys are supposed to know better.

And there’s the way she said it, too. Like everyone knows Emerald comes up here to brood; like it’s a big open secret. The knowledge sits uncomfortably in her stomach, makes her feel watched. Even now, even here, she can’t get a moment alone. Not really.

“What, so you’re spying on me now?”

Nora’s eyes narrow. “I have a pretty bad track record when it comes to losing people. Makes a girl want to put in a little hustle when it comes to keeping tabs on her friends.”

And Emerald would snark at that, or maybe apologize, or something, only—

Nora thinks they’re friends?

“Well, take a seat, I guess,” she mumbles, scooching to the side as though she needs to make room on the massive, empty roof.

Nora walks over and joins Emerald on the asphalt, letting her legs dangle over the edge. Seemingly unsure of where to start, she stares at her hands. Emerald stares too, but her eyes can’t help but wander—tracing the way scars, silvery in the moonlight, spiderweb up Nora’s bare wrists and forearms to fetter her shoulders, clavicle, neck. Like cracks in a pane of glass, right before it shatters.

(Only that’s not it at all, is it? It’s not a sign of weakness, but a warning of strength. I care this much, her scars announce to the word. You wanna try me?

Hazel’s arms always looked like that.)

Emerald doesn’t want to be the one to break the silence, sure that whatever she’d say would be incredibly stupid.

Luckily, Nora has no such qualms, and opens with: “I really admire you, you know?”

Emerald stares, jaw slack, certain she’s heard wrong. “I—what?” She’d say something defensive, like yeah right or you don’t have to make fun of me, only Nora’s eyes are so wide and so guileless they don’t leave any room for argument.

“I mean it,” Nora adds. “I know we don’t know all that much about each other, but… here’s what I do know: I can’t remember a time I saw you without Mercury right behind. Just like me’n Ren. And the way you fought for Cinder…” Nora smiles a sad, private little smile. “You don’t fight like that unless it’s personal; unless someone means something to you. Just like me’n Ren. And now you’re here. All on your own. And you didn’t have to be. That’s—don’t you think that’s crazy brave? I sure do.”

Of course she fucking doesn’t. Crazy brave would have been walking away the first, tenth, hundredth time she had a flash of panic about what she was doing. Or, better yet, doing something about it. Crazy brave is taking thirty thousand volts to get to your friends; it’s flooding your veins with pure crystalline power and saying Go, I’m doing what Gretchen would have done, it’s—

She closes that door.

“It’s not like I really had a choice,” she sighs, dodging the question.

“Oh, you know that’s not true,” Nora scoffs dismissively, tilting sideways to nudge Emerald with her shoulder.

And Emerald jolts, because—look, it’s not like no one touches her. They have to manhandle each other all the time in battle, and… and Oscar gives her high fives sometimes, which makes her embarrassingly pleased. But what Nora’s offering now, that kind of buddy-buddy casual contact…

… it’s been a while, is all.

“So, why did you want to talk to me?” Emerald asks, overwhelmed and suddenly desperate to find a way to get this conversation over with. She feels like she’s sprinted five miles; like she’s had the crap kicked out of her and she has to go somewhere to lick her wounds. Too much, too fast.

Nora laughs—a chuffing, cynical noise that doesn’t sound at all like her. “Looking for pointers? See, I’m trying this thing where I do things on my own, but I just—I suck at it. Like today; you saw. Even when I’m not with Ren, all I do is… is act exactly the same way I do when I’m with Ren. Like I literally don’t know how to exist without him, whether he’s actually there or not. And I know that’s not fair to anyone; I didn’t mean to treat you like—” She shakes her head, biting her lip. “You’re not just some stand-in. It’s not you at all. I’m just—broken, or something. One trick pony.”

“No, hey—”

“But you figured it out,” she barrels on, which is good, because Emerald doesn’t actually have a clue what she would have said there. “You don’t have anyone and somehow you’re just, like—good to go!” Nora says it cheerily, like it’s a compliment, but has the grace to balk a little when she hears how it sounds. “…sorry. That’s—sorry.”

Emerald shrugs, drawing her knees to her chest and resting her chin there. She feels like an idiot; building it up for weeks like spending time with Nora would solve all her problems when, surprise surprise, Nora’s just as fucked up as she is.

“Hate to disappoint you, but I don’t have any hot tips,” she mutters into the crooks of her elbows. “I don’t have a clue what I’m doing. Like—you want to know the really sad part? I was just following your lead.”

“My…?” Nora can’t even finish repeating it, which: Emerald can’t blame her. It’s so dumb. “Huh?”

“Come on. You know.”

“I don’t,” Nora says, voice thick with exhaustion. Like she’s sick of herself. “Ask anyone—I’m not the brains of the operation.”

Hearing Nora talk about herself that way makes Emerald’s chest feel tight; like her ribs have locked in place so her lungs can’t expand. She doesn’t know how to explain it; not without sounding like a starry-eyed fangirl or a moron with a crush and that’s not what this—it’s only that—

She chooses to start a different way.

“You wanna know why I switched sides? Like, really why?”

Nora softens, and reaches out to touch the back of Emerald’s left hand, where it dangles over her knee. “Sure,” she says, but Emerald barely hears it; it’s taking all of her concentration not to clench her fist or pull away in response.

“I overheard Oscar—or, Ozpin, I guess, I don’t know—talking to Hazel about Salem, about her goals. And… listen. No one joins under Salem because they’re trying to kill the world, okay? I mean, no one but Tyrian, anyway. We were all just trying to… find ways to get by. And when Cinder found me, she—” Emerald swallows, hard. This cuts too deep, too close. It’s not something she can just say. “I wasn’t trying to be some big villain, or something. I was just—looking out for the people who were looking out for me. And why wouldn’t I? No one else ever seemed to think I was worth it.”

“Of course you are,” Nora cuts in, quiet but vehement. “Everyone is.”

“See, the worst part is that you mean that when you say it,” Emerald grumbles, scrubbing at her face until smears of color kaleidoscope behind her closed eyes. “I figured people like you didn’t exist, and then Cinder and Merc were glad to prove me right, and—I let them. You know? And maybe if I’d just held out a little longer…”

“You’re not the only one here who’s ashamed of her past. Harriet tried to blow up Mantle, like, a month ago.”

“That’s not—forget that. I’m talking about you. Nora.” It’s the first time she’s ever said her name like that—addressing her, in conversation. It feels… astonishingly intimate, for so small a thing. Emerald powers past it. “Every day, I see you do something ridiculous, like double back on a patrol because you forgot you promised some kid a candy bar, or something, and that—matters. To me. It’s so stupid, but it’s not, because… argh! I want—it’s—” She tries to get her mouth to form the words, that’s the kind of person I want to be, but they stop in her throat.

Still, Nora seems to get the message. Her eyes seem suspiciously shiny for a moment—but when she blinks, it’s gone. “I… thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Emerald grumbles. Saying it like she means it: seriously. Don’t mention it.

“I understand what you mean, though. For years, the only person who looked out for me was Ren. And if he’d said…” Nora trails off, then, cocking her head to the side as she works through something. “Huh.”

“What?”

“Nothing, just. I remembered something. I was about to say that if Ren told me the only way for us to get by was a life of crime, or something, I would’ve taken his word for it, but—the opposite happened. We decided to enroll at Beacon. And that wasn’t his idea; it was mine. I always wanted to be a Huntress. To… to be the one strong enough to help people, instead of always needing the help. He wasn’t sure if we would make it, but I was. We were together, right? How could we lose?” She chuckles, a little, shaking her head at herself. “Get a load of that. He followed me.”

They smile at each other, then. Like they’ve figured out something profound. Maybe Nora has; Emerald hopes so.

“I’m glad you’re here, Emerald,” Nora says, and—there it is again. The frisson of electricity that comes with being referred to by name.

Of course, then Emerald ruins it by blurting out:

“Of course you are, all your other friends are dead.”

Which—“Fuck!” she sputters, because she didn’t mean to say that. What is wrong with her? “Sorry! Sorry.”

Nora only grins at her, feral and incisive. “Yeah, well. Yours are evil, so. Pick your poison. At least I’m proud of mine.”

Touché.

“Still glad I’m here?” Emerald jeers, because her first instinct is still to press on the bruise to see how much it hurts.

Nora laughs, and gets to her feet. “Believe it or not, yes. If putting your foot in your mouth was all it took to get booted from Hero Club, I’d have been kicked out a long time ago.” She reaches down to offer Emerald a hand; Emerald takes it, letting Nora pull her to standing. “Now go and get some rest, huh? None of us can ever sleep when you’re up here thinking so loud.”

“That an order?”

“Advice. Friends give it, from time to time.”

And—yeah. Maybe they do. 

[xxreader-writerxx]

Seven Minutes In Heaven

Word Count: 1.8k

Fred Weasley x Fem Reader

Warnings: Somewhat brief smut in the beginning, cursing, use of condom, underage drinking,

A/N: My mind won’t let go of this idea. And I made some inaccurate things. Come at me. But don’t really I’m an adorable, fragile, cute hufflepuff.

Y/N= Your Name L/N= Your Last Name Y/H= Your House, Y/N/N: Your Nickname

I walk into Fred’s dorm as he guides me not separating our heavy kiss. He tries closing the door and lock it but keeps missing the lock chuckling against my lips. He places his forehead against mine. “Damn door...” He mumbles laughing lightly and I bite my lip to hold in my laughter. “You can lock it Freddie.” I tell him and he gives me a quick peck before turning and locking the door. The party muffled by the wooden barrier between us and the raging celebration for Gryffindor winning the latest game. He turns back smiling and resumes our kiss. We walk to the bed, falling on it when my legs hit the edge. He laughs against my lips and I start to pull off his shirt.

“Are you sure darling?” He asks after pulling it off. I nod shyly and he smiles climbing on top of me leaving love bites all over my neck and I stop him quickly. “Do you have a condom?” I ask and he reaches into his pocket. He pops up searching hgis person. “Shit. I don’t. Don’t worry I will get it j-just stay here.” He tells me kissing me longingly before shoving his shirt over his head. “Ok.” I mumble as he sighs quietly. I pull him in for one more kiss as he finally pulls away to run out the door.

***Fred’s POV***

I race through the party looking for the one person I know always has a condom at a party. The man with an actual girlfriend instead of pining after one gorgeous girl non-stop. Well I guess I’m not anymore based on Y/n asking if there could be strings attached, if this could mean we could be together, and I stupidly answered with ‘Consider me pinocchio.’ which she cutely answered with ‘So you want to end up with no strings?’ Which made me fall harder than I already did.

I run over to where George is snogging with Angelina and grab his wallet. He slams his hand on the wallet turning to me. “The fick you think you’re doing mate?” He asks and I tug at the wallet. “I need a condom.” I say and he scoffs. “The bloody hell you need it for? Who would fuck you?” He chuckles and I smack the back of his head. “A hot girl who is laying in my bed right now.” I say finally stealing the wallet, digging through. He gets up trying to take it. I grab the stack and look at him squirting. “Why the hell do you have so many who’s fucking you this much?” I ask and he tries grabbing it. “Babe I have like ten in my drawer in my dorm. Give him at least one.” Angelina says and I point at her. “It’s the dignity of it.” He says.

After minutes of fighting I finally get annoyed. “Fine. Rock paper scissors for it. I win, I get it. I lose, I don’t.” I tell him and he nods. We play and he wins cheering for himself. “Fine shit head.” I say and grab my pocket knife cutting the packages. “Fuck you.” I say running off. I find Lee and he looks at me confused. “Have you seen Y/n? I can’t find her.” He asks and I shrug. “Dunno but do you have a condom?” I ask and he nods, digging through his wallet. “Here.” He says and hands me the one my size. I look at him with an eyebrow raised. “What? I’m the dad of the group. I gotta know these things.” He says and I just shake my head running off.

***Your POV***

I waited playing with my skirt for Fred to come back fearing he was just doing a cruel prank on me. I hear the door burst open and Fred breathing heavily. “Thank Godric.” He breathes out walking over quickly to kiss me. “Why did I hear George banging on the door?” I ask when we separate. “I cut his greedy condoms in half” He mumbles and I laugh as he kisses me hungrily soon melting into the kiss. He tears off his shirt and before pulling mine off looks up at me and I nod at the silent question for consent. He pulls it off and moves from my neck to my chest leaving small purple spots on my breasts.

“God I’ve been wanting to do this forever...” He mumbles and I nod in agreement, running my fingers through his ginger hair.

I’m soon underneath him moaning his name as he thrusts harder and harder into me, kissing my chest messily. “Faster Freddie….” I moan out and he complies, going harder and faster at a bruising pace. He pulls my leg over his shoulder adding a better angle making us both moan louder than before. “Go on darling tell me how good I’m making you feel.” He says slowing a little to kiss my thigh before going faster.

A few more minutes later and we both moan out in our fast brough orgasms. Fred pulls out and soon plops down next to me smiling with sweat beading over his eyebrows. “Godric we should’ve done that long ago.” He breathes out smiling goofily. I just nod just trying to catch my breath. He rubs my thighs lightly, kissing my hips. “Are you alright?” He asks and my smile widens as I nod happily.

***

I wake exhausted and mixed in Fred’s legs. The night was filled with amazing sex and more amazing aftercare from Fred. Now the amazing ginger locked boy is fast asleep. I smile at his calm face that is hidden behind his hair and highlighted by the sun peaking through his window. I kiss his forehead as he hums lightly in his sleep.

I start moving to get up but he tries grabbing me pulling me in. “Stay...” He mumbles and I laugh. “I’m getting food...” I sing into his ear and he ignores me nuzzling into my chest. “Don’t...” He mutters into my chest and I chuckle. “I’ll kiss you if you let me get food.” I offer and he puckers his lips and I place a peck on his lips. I shuffle out of his grasp as he whines lightly. “Baby....” He cries and I laugh. “I’ll be back. Keep being cute.” I tell him and he gives a lazy salute before hugging his pillow.

Me and Fred have been dating since the fateful party three weeks ago. We decided not to tell the group for the pure chaos of it. Agreeing we will tell them at least at two months if they haven’t cracked the case. I get to the great hall grabbing a plastic to-go tupperware from the edge of the table and walk over to the group. I dig through the food, placing a breakfast for me and Fred in the tupperwares. When I finish I kiss the boys heads goodbye and the girl’s cheeks getting a playful smack on the arse from Katie.

I get back to Fred’s dorm to see him still entangled in his sheets. I strip from my shorts and jumper quickly then sit on the bed, rubbing his legs lightly. “Hi baby...” I hum and he looks at me grumpily. “Why did you take so long...” He whines and I hold up the food. “I got you pancakes” I tell him and he sits up smiling. “I love you...” He mutters and I kiss his forehead nodding.

We eat together joking around until we finish and Fred gets bored tackling me into a cuddle. “Love me!” He exclaims while tackling me evilly. He kisses my neck lightly making me giggle

***

Me and Fred enter the common room joking around about a strange debate when George calls us over. “Before we go over. I wanted to ask. Is Saturday still good for Hog’s Head?” He asks and I nod smiling. We plop down in the circle they made. “What are we playing?” Fred asks and George smiles. “Truth or Dare.” He tells him and we nod compliantly.

We moved into George’s dorm after an hour of playing.“Katie truth or dare?” George asks and she picks dare. “I dare you… To take off an article of clothing every time someone picks a dare.” He says earning a slap on the head from me and Angelina.

A few more minutes later and I get picked. “Ummm Dare.” I say and Katie smiles. “Sit on George’s lap.” She says plainly and we all but Fred laughs. “Katie… I thought we both knew I liked Fred.” I whisper in her ear and she smiles. “Yeah, make him jealous...” She whispers and I chuckle, shaking my head. I try to move but feel Fred’s grip on my wrist behind our backs where he was holding my hand. “Don’t” He whispers in my ear and I find my way out of his firm but not tight grip. I move over and George laughs, shaking his head. “Godric, this is weird. You’re like my sister Y/N/N” George laughs and I nod agreeing.

An hour later we’re all giggly but I feel Fred’s stare on me the whole time. “Ok dare.” I say and Katie groans, tearing off her skirt. “You all suck.” She mumbles and I laugh. “Ok… I dare you to spin this bottle whoever it lands on you have to spend seven minutes in heaven with whoever it lands on.” Angelina tells me and I nod, grabbing the bottle in her hand. I spin it and it slowly lands on Katie but suddenly gets bumped to Fred by a flick of Katie’s hidden wand. I look at her and she giggles lightly.

Before I say anything I get dragged to George’s walk in closet and shoved into the door as he hungrily roams my mouth with his tongue that he shoved past my lips quickly. “D-darling…” I mumble as he goes to my neck and he ignores me while leaving dark purple hickeys along my neck. “You are mine, got that?” He finally says when needing to breathe. I nod quickly as he rams his lips back against mine. I feel his hips grind against mine as he tries to relieve some of the tension.

Finally we hear a knock on the door signaling the seven minute mark. We go out and before I can sit on the floor I feel pulled onto Fred’s lap and his hand firmly on my thigh. “Ooh… Got a girlfriend Freddie?” Katie asks and he squeezes my thigh. “Yep. I think she’s my girlfriend based on her going on multiple dates with me for the past month.” He blurts out and I blush furiously, digging my face in his neck. “OH MY GOD YOU BITCH!” Katie yells laughing. “Freddie...” I mumble into his neck and he pulls my chin looking at me smugly. “Are you denying it princess?” He asks and I shake my head shyly. “Thought so.” He says, victorious. He gives me a small peck on the cheek and stands up balancing me on his hips. “I think we’re done playing. I have something to take care of.” He says as George starts ranting about the party where he cut his condoms angrily.

[fatiguing-thoughts]

“You're cute when you’re jealous.” - Paul Lahote x Reader

A little thought that popped into my head last night, so I needed to write it out haha

I was on my way to the bonfire at the beach with everyone, looking for the stupid marshmallows that were seemingly impossible to find for some reason in the grocery store. 

“(Y/N)? Is that you?” I hear a vaguely familiar voice call to me from behind. 

I turn around and see Fran, a girl I went to middle school with years ago, but she had moved out of state. 

“Fran, you’re back?” I ask, a smile appearing on my face. 

“I am. I came back a few weeks ago. I’ve been dying to catch up, but it’s been crazy hectic, moving sucks. But I came here because I needed some chocolate.” She laughs. 

“I hear ya, it’s tough. It’s good to see you, we really should hang out.” I smile.

“What’re you doing tonight, are you free? We could hang out!” She enthuses. 

I think to myself, this isn’t a pack meeting, just a normal hangout. Nodding to myself, I speak up.

“Well, I’m actually going to a bonfire at La Push with a bunch of friends and my boyfriend if you want to come.” 

“That would be great.” She smiles. 

We grabbed what we needed and headed to the register to check out. I tell her to follow my car to get to the beach.

As soon as we get into our cars, I text Paul and let him know that an old friend of mine is coming with me. He tells me that it’s okay and that they’ll all be on their best behavior. 

Pulling up to the beach, I was met with a salty wind blowing my hair back. It wasn’t quite dark yet, but the sun was setting. 

Fran walks up next to me, nudging my shoulder. 

“Why didn’t you tell me there were so many good looking guys here?” She chuckles, raising her eyebrows at me. 

“Must’ve slipped my mind.” I joke, making my way over to the group.

I see Paul and Jared wrestling off in the distance, Embry and Quil placing a bet on it. I laugh at the thought of whatever caused it. 

“Hey everyone, this is my old friend Fran from middle school, she just moved back to town and I brought her here to get her out of the house.” I laugh, nodding my head towards her. 

A chorus of greetings echo from the group.

“Fran, this is Sam, Emily, Kim, Quil, Embry, Jacob, Seth, and Leah. Over there you’ll find Jared and Paul wrestling for some unknown reason.” I chuckle, pointing to everyone respectively to their names. 

“Nice to meet you all.” She smiles, taking a seat on the log next to me. 

“It’s because Embry and Quil were debating on who’d win in a fight.” Emily rolls her eyes. 

“Who’d you put your money on, Em?” I ask, leaning forward to catch his gaze. 

“You know I gave it to Paul.” 

“Yeah, but he’ll get distracted when he’s winning. He gets too cocky, Jared will get him when his guard is down.” Quil scoffs. 

“Good point.” I nod, smirking to myself. 

“Jeez.” She murmurs under her breath.

“What’s wrong?” I whisper, asking Fran.

But when I follow her gaze, I see that she’s looking at a shirtless Paul and Jared walking over to us, playfully shoving one another and laughing. They grab their shirts they they ditched to wrestle, putting them back on. 

Quil hands over a five dollar bill to Embry, chuckling. Leah watches what’s unfolding on my end of the bonfire, I hear her stifle a laugh as she looks between the three of us. 

“Not now.” I mouth to her, trying to keep a straight face. 

After all, she might be looking at Jared. This might be Kim’s problem. 

I see Paul’s face soften as we made eye contact, but then I watched him stifle a laugh as well when he realized what was going on. 

As Jared walked past us and over to Kim, Fran’s eyes still never left Paul. He walked over and sat on the other side of me.

“I’m Fran.” She smiles, reaching a hand out for him to shake, reaching over in front of me, no less. 

Leah and I make eye contact, and she’s holding in her laughter, her eyes wide and full of surprise. Quil, too, caught on and started chuckling to himself, earning a glare from me. 

“Paul.” He says, waving so he wouldn’t have to shake her hand. 

“Nice to meet you. You’re like really tall, how tall are you?” She ignores me completely, ogling over Paul. 

I furrow my brows, trying to figure out if this was real life. 

“Uh, a little over six feet tall. I dunno really.” He answers awkwardly.

“You know who’s really tall? Jacob’s really tall. He’s 6′7, you should show her how tall you are Jacob. You’re way taller than Paul.” I interject, looking at Jacob with wide eyes. 

By now, Quil was losing it, everyone else was noticing what was going on, Leah was sitting there trying her best not to laugh, and Paul was wearing a shit-eating grin on his face, trying not to laugh. 

“Uh, yeah.” Jacob says, standing up, though Fran’s eyes didn’t waver from Paul. 

Okay what the hell? 

“Fran, look how tall Jacob is. Isn’t he handsome?” 

“Sure.” She says, not actually listening to me and peering over at Jake for less than a second. 

“Ouch.” Jacob laughs, sitting back down. 

“It’s really cold out here.” Fran says, looking right at Paul. 

“It is, I’m sure you’re cold, babe.” Paul looks at me, pressing a kiss to my temple. 

Paul’s warm arm wraps around me, pulling me into his lap. His feverish skin blessing my cold frame. 

“Freezing.” I nod, placing my hand on his chest. 

“(Y/N), you didn’t tell me Paul was your boyfriend, he’s so handsome.” She giggles, moving closer to us. “How long have you guys known each other, been together?” 

My brows furrow, still confused to as if this was actually happening or if my brain was just imagining this unbelievable scenario. 

“We’ve been friends since early high school and have been dating since like, mid high school. We’ve been together for four years now. Each year better than the last.” He smirks, rubbing a comforting circle on the back of my hand with his thumb. 

“Oh nice.” Fran awkwardly smiles, the feelings of how stupid she looks daunting on her. 

“Yeah, it’s great. We’re gonna be planning a wedding, soon.” Paul whispers in my ear, sending chills up my spine. 

We always talked about getting married, but hearing him say it right now was great. 

The rest of the night went by smoothly enough, and when it was time for her to call it a night, we all said our goodbyes and she drove off. 

“Oh my god, that was amazing.” Leah laughs. 

“Jesus, I can’t even believe that was real!” I laugh, disbelief flooding over me once again.

“Jacob’s really tall, show her Jake.” Quil mocks, slapping his knee as he laughs. 

“Oh shut up!” I laugh, throwing a marshmallow at him, a blush flooding my cheeks.  

“You’re cute when you’re jealous, babe.” Paul teases in my ear, his hand finding my thigh and giving it a squeeze. 

“I hate you.” I giggle, nuzzling my face into the crook of his neck.  ___________________________________________________ Word Count: 1226

[smellsfaintlyofvanilla]

hiii!!! can i request a hange x reader fic where they are having a being intimate or having a moment and Levi walks in. and is like wtf. but praises hange on their choice of women? ( could you use a mix of they and she for hange please!)

Absolutely!

I just know Levi would be the type to act disgusted, but internally he's actually really happy for Hange that they finally found somebody :')

Quickly

(Zoe Hange x Reader)

AU: Canon

Warnings: None

Category: Fluff, a little smut but they get caught lmao

Summary: Hange is busy doing work when their S/O comes to visit them, so they let them stay for a bit. But, as soon as they get to fooling around, Hange realizes they forgot to lock the door.

Words: 1.9K

"Knock knock."

You push the door to Hange's office open casually, not even waiting for any sort of confirmation from them that you were allowed in—after all, Hange never said 'no' to any of your visits. It was essentially your office too now, since she had given you a spare key to "come over whenever you'd like and for whatever reason you'd like". You understood the implications of what she was saying, but pushed the thought to the back of your mind, accepting the key graciously.

"Ah, hello Y/n." Their voice echoed through the room, their back turned as she fiddled with some equipment and papers on her desk, working vigorously as usual. You shut the door behind you, stretching your arms above your head as you strolled over to your lover.

Your arms wrapped around her waist from behind the second you got close enough, burying your head in their neck—a cheeky way of getting their attention that never once failed.

"Baby, I'm working." She chuckled in mock protest, but based off of how quickly they dropped their tools and looked up from their papers, you doubted she was planning on stopping you.

"I know," You breathe against her neck, slowly and meticulously luring them further and further from her work. "But I missed you~."

"What do you want?" Hange suddenly asked. It wasn't in annoyance, but a genuine question. "Do you want something in particular?"

You sat there silently against her shoulder for a moment, pondering. What did you come here for? Mostly, you were just bored and lonely—stable duty wasn't the most appealing job—but you didn't have anything planned when you came over.

"I dunno..." You mumble. "Just wanted to see you..."

Hange chuckled, freeing herself from your grasp and turning to face you. "That's fine." They say, hooking their arms around your lower back to pull you up, and you wrap your legs around her waist as she starts walking.

After a few seconds, she'd sat down, and you heard the distinct scratching of the chair against the floor as she scooted forward. You were in their lap now, body pressed up against hers so closely that you could feel the rise and fall of their chest with each steady breath. They'd already scooted the chair up as close to their work desk as they could, and even your lower back was pressed semi-uncomfortably against her wooden desk, you didn't mind at all. Your legs were to either side of her, and you faced the back wall blankly.

"We can stay like this for a while." She muttered, her left hand slowly rubbing up and down your back while her right picked up the pen and started to fill out the stack of paperwork on her desk. You chuckled—Hange's inability to pry themselves from their work was evident as always.

You settled down, your breaths leveling to slow, easy pace as you buried your head in the crook of her neck, finding deep solace and tranquility in her embrace. Your eyes shut against her, and you slowly breathed in their scent. It was very distinct—somewhat musky, yet also smelling of ink and fresh paper. The tension evaporated from your muscles as you sunk further into them, the warmth of their body and the gentle rhythm of their heartbeat lulling you to sleep in her arms.

After a certain amount of time—you weren't quite sure how long—something stirred you awake, and a groan involuntarily left your lips as your eyes peeled open.

You were still in the chair, and in Hange's embrace, but the sound of pen on paper had ceased, and you could only assume that they had finished their a while back.

Her face was now pressed into your shoulder, and both of her hands had snaked under your shirt and onto the bare skin of your back. If you didn't know better, you'd assume she was asleep, but you heard a soft chuckle pass your lover's lips, the exhalation brushing warm air against the nape of your neck.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. Are my hands too cold?" She spoke gently and quietly, a stark contrast to her usually loud tone. She didn't want to bother you with her usual loudness immediately after you had woken up.

"Now that you mention it, a little." You mumble, closing your eyes in a vain attempt at getting more rest.

"Sorry. Here, I'll move them." They make good on their words, removing their hands from yours and moving them up to your head, pulling it up from her shoulder. She cups your face in her hands, one side in each palm, and pulls you towards her face for a chaste kiss on the lips.

Finally starting to wake up, you move your lips back to hers after a moments hesitation. They return the kiss eagerly, hands moving to your shoulders, squeezing them lightly. Their lips are warm and soft against yours. Perhaps a little chapped, but you had long gotten used to the feeling.

Teasingly, Hange moves her hands down, letting them slink to your waist, purposefully dragging of the sides of your breasts on the way down. Their tongue left their mouth, dragging up your bottom lip teasingly.

You pull away in shock, wiping the small trail of saliva connecting the two. "H-Hange—!"

They lean their head back, letting out a hearty laugh. "Sorry, I just wanted to see what you would do!"

Despite playing it off as a joke, her hands never left your hips. In fact, their grip only tightened.

"Unless..." She teased, hands slowly riding up, causing your shirt to rise and expose your stomach. "You want to keep going?"

A pink tint rises to your cheeks as your shirt continued to rise up your stomach, Hange's eyes shamelessly staring down at your exposed skin, thoroughly enjoying the view.

"Hange~," You whined, squirming under their grasp and trying in vain to fight off the tingle in the pit of your stomach. "We're on duty, stop being horny!" You laughed, causing Hange to giggle as well.

"What's the harm in it? I've down my work, and so have you... You locked the door on the way in, you nobody'll catch us anyway. I'll be quick about it~..."

You sighed, debating on whether it's really worth it. After all, captain Levi would surely chew you out for it if he caught you and Hange getting frisky. But the door was locked, so you decided it would be alright. Just this once.

"Fine..." You sigh, "Just be quick about it."

Hange's eyes lit up with excitement at your permission, immediately pulling your shirt up, not taking it off completely, but pulling it up enough to expose your breasts, still hidden by your bra.

Hange's lips went to your chest almost instantly, peppering the area with brief kisses. Her hand slunk lower, cupping your crotch in her hand, causing you to hiss in a breath of air.

Her lips detach from your chest with a pop, smirking at you before moving up to gaze at your face—flushed and slight sweating from arousal.

She swooped in to kiss you, lips connecting with yours and moving against each other passionately. Slowly, but deliberately, her hand moved up and down, grinding against your clit through your clothing, making you squirm with impatience.

You whimpered quietly, the sound being muffled by Hange's mouth against yours. The two of you separated for a very brief moment, breathing heavily as saliva connected your lips, before you dove right back in, kissing more fervently than before.

Finally, you two pulled away, catching your breaths amongst the grips of passion. Panting, you put your forehead to theirs, smiling against her.

"I love you Hange." You exhaled, your warm breath teasing Hange's wet and parted lips.

"I love you too." She panted, emphasizing her point by grinding her hand against you a bit more forcefully this time, the pleasure causing you to moan quietly, spurring Hange on. "So hurry up and take your pants off."

You obey immediately, almost as if your body was moving on its own, unzipping your pants, preparing to slide out of them until a subtle noise behind you caught your attention. You turned your head in confusion, and your eyes widened at the sight of captain Levi, clearly unamused, in the doorway.

"L-Levi... Hi!" You sputter, fumbling desperately with the zipper of your pants in a desperate attempt to play off the situation. But it was too late, the damage had already been done.

Levi stared for a moment, his usual dead, unamused face ever so prominent. Finally, after a silence that felt like eternity, he sighed, stepping towards the desk.

He plopped down a stack on papers on Hange's desk, causing a few loose papers to blow from her desktop and onto the floor.

"You're on duty, Hange. You too, Y/n." He deadpans. "Now is not the time nor the place to be doing... this."

You look to the side out of embarrassment, pulling your shirt back down as you refused to meet his eye.

"Hange, Erwin needs these filled out by next week. Stop fooling around with Y/n and get it done."

"I-I apologize Levi, I'll get it done as soon as possible." Hange cleared her throat, trying her best not to sound affected, but her wavering voice betrayed her, clearly slightly embarrassed.

He scoffed as he turned his back, walking out as if this were a normal occurrence. "Yeah, yeah. I don't really care anyway, just make sure this gets done. And don't make a mess, either." He says, eyeing the clear disarray of the room.

He turns to leave, but stops in the frame of the door, turning to give Hange a side-eyed glance. "But, you know, for everyone in the Survey Corps, you chose a pretty good woman." He states, shutting the door immediately after his statement, preferring not to witness the calamity.

Hange breaks out into a fit of giggles while your entire face heats up into a red blush of embarrassment.

"Of all that," Hange sputters in between giggles. "Of all that, he chooses to focus on 'my choice of women'?!"

Meanwhile, you bury your face in your hands, wishing you could just sink into the floor and never be seen again. "I thought I locked the door..."

"I guess not, darling." They tease, planting a purposefully short kiss to the edge of your jawline. This time, you're more firm in your stance, taking a hand and putting it on her forehead, gently pushing them away from your neck.

"Nuh-uh! Not this time, Levi said you have work to do." You manage to regain your confidence enough to push Hange away.

"Ughhhh, fine." They groan dramatically, gently pushing you off their lap as they scoot their chair to their desk.

"You act as if it's your life support. You can go an hour without sex, Hange."

"Impossible." Hange retorts back immediately, a joking tone to her voice.

"Right," You sigh, stretching your arms above your head, "Anyway, I'm gonna take a nap on the couch." You plop down on the cushiony fabric, making yourself comfortable before pulling a blanket up to your shoulders.

"Okay," Hange's voice echoes from across the room. "Just don't be upset if I wake you up later."

You scoff quietly at the remark, rolling onto your side and closing your tired eyes. "You dork. I'm going to sleep. Love you."

"Love you, too." They reply immediately, ignoring the papers on her desk, staring at you instead.

You'd already fallen asleep—your exhaustion from the day catching up to you—and Hange took the moment to admire your beauty as you slept peacefully.

"I'll be waiting right here when you wake up, okay?"

This also isn't proofread, I have an appointment early tomorrow morning and I don't wanna fall asleep halfway through :'D

Hope you enjoyed anyway!

[angryinternetduck]

Pickpocket

A little less than 1.5k words of fluff on moonlighting as a pickpocket, teddy bear rings, and proper entertainment. Harry Styles x reader. 

You grinned, pressing another kiss to Harry’s lips. 

“I’m going to miss my flight, love…” 

“What a pity,” you said flatly, mumbling against his lips. 

Harry sighed your name, and you sighed his, mocking his tone. 

Harry sighed, gently pushing you off of him. “I’ve got to go.” 

You pouted, moving away reluctantly. “I know… You have to come back, though.” 

Harry laughed. “‘Course I will.” 

“No, I mean, you have to.” 

“Okay…?” 

You grinned, holding up a silver ring. “Because I have this.” Harry’s jaw dropped, his gaze darting to his hand. His pinky was, indeed, bare, and he looked back at you with an incredulous scoff. “How -?” 

“Don’t you know?” you asked. “I moonlight as a pickpocket. ‘sides, it’s just insurance. You’ll get it back.” You winked. “Probably.” Harry shook his head with a grin, kissing you again. “Christ, woman,” he laughed. “You’re ridiculous.” 

You stuck your tongue out at him. “Yeah, yeah,” you said, guiding him to the door. “Have fun at your show, doofus. Don’t - you know, fall off the stage or anything…” You paused, looking up at him thoughtfully. “Or maybe do. Certainly entertaining, huh?” 

“Oh, fuck off,” Harry laughed. 

He was halfway out the door when he stopped and turned around. 

He kissed you and said, “You know I’d come back anyway, yeah?” 

You smiled a bit, nodding. “I know.” You grinned. “But now you have to.” 

Harry laughed, shaking his head. “Jesus Christ. Bye, love.” 

Another kiss, and he was out the door. 

“Bye, Harry,” you murmured to the shut door. 

***

It was his first show away. 

You spun the ring around your finger, watching the TV quietly. Your mind wasn’t really on the show you were watching, though; it was stuck on the show you weren’t watching. The show happening in… a few hours. Harry’s show. 

Your mind was stuck on the songs at the show in a few hours, the crowd at the show in a few hours, the people at the show in a few hours. More specifically, it was stuck on the girls at the show in a few hours. All the girls at the show, who loved Harry, who were with Harry, who were currently spending more time with him than you were. 

You bit your lip, looking down at the ring. 

It was a thick band of silver, snug on Harry’s little finger and just a bit too big on yours. It fit him nicely. Looked a bit bulky on you. You wanted to see it on him. Wanted to see it on him, there, at your apartment. At your flat. 

You did not want to see videos of him on stage, away from you, with a bare pinky. 

You sighed and microwaved some leftovers. 

It would be a long four weeks. 

*** 

Four weeks, and he was back. 

He was back, all smiles and cuddles and stupid jokes. 

All Harry. 

You gave him his ring back. 

But it was too quick, and he was leaving again in a heartbeat. 

“Right then… Do you have one?” Harry asked.

“Yup,” you said, holding up the big golden S ring that went with the H. 

Harry’s brows jumped. “Certainly going bold there, aren’t ya, love?” 

“Well…” 

“Tryna tell me something, are you? Stealing my last name?” 

You blushed, kissing him because you couldn’t think of a response. “Maybe,” you said. A pause, and you looked up at him, suddenly quiet. “What if you just… didn’t go?” you asked softly. Harry sighed. “Love, I can’t…” 

You bit your lip. “I know.” You cleared your throat, pulling away and clapping your hands. “Alright, then, superstar. Off you go. Don’t forget your words, now.” Harry grinned, talking over his shoulder as he walked out the door. “Well, I dunno about that. Could be proper entertaining, eh?” 

“Shut it,” you laughed. “You’re gonna miss your flight.” 

“What a pity,” Harry said, leaning forward and stealing another kiss. 

“Goodbye, Harold.” 

“Bye, darling!” Harry called, already halfway down the hallway. 

***

Your thievery was a bit more obvious this time around, since the H looked just a bit lonely on his fingers. But you had your insurance, and every time his other hand started to fiddle with his rings and he got to that spot, he got a little smile on his face and gave a grin to the camera that you could only flatter yourself by thinking was for you. 

You’d started to watch videos of his shows on YouTube. You were still deciding whether it was beneficial, though, or if it just made you more depressed. It brought a smile to your face watching him in all his charismatic, designer clad, dimpled glory on stage, but it also kinda made your heart ache. 

When he came back again, the S was returned. And when he left, a silver-ish one with little teddy-bears on it was stolen. You watched YouTube, and ate a lot of ice cream, and tried not to think about all the beautiful girls Harry was rejecting because of you, and debated flying out to surprise him about a million a two times before realizing you really just did not have the money for it. 

And so the cycle continued. Another homecoming, another return. Another departure, another pickpocket. More YouTube, more ice cream, more painful imaginings of multitudes of pretty girls, many, many more surprise debates, and even more being-broke realizations. 

***

The end of tour brought the end of the heart aches, but not the end of the thieveries. You kept up with the robberies, stealing a ring or two from Harry every so often to keep around your little finger. 

And then the next tour rolled around, and it started all over again. 

Kind of. 

***

Harry glanced down at his fingers and smiled at you. “Stolen one, have you?” 

“Yup,” you chirped, holding up a little gold one that fit with another. 

“Well, I’m afraid you’re going to have to give it back, love.” 

You frowned. “When you come back,” you said. 

“Now, love?” Harry asked. “Please?” 

“When you come back,” you insisted. Harry pouted. “I like that one too much,” he said, and you grumbled, “You’re being a pain,” but handed it over. Harry grinned. “Thank you kindly, darling,” he said, sliding it onto his pinky.

“Uh-huh. Gimme another.” 

Harry cleared his throat, his hand slipping to his coat pocket. “Listen, darling, about that…” 

You raised an eyebrow. “Not gonna leave me hanging, are you?” 

“No, no,” Harry said, “just the opposite, really…” He cleared his throat again and met your eyes, his gaze suddenly serious. He took a breath, a bit of color creeping up his cheeks, and stepped back. “Actually,” he said, “I’d like you to take, erm - this one…” 

You gave a quiet gasp as he bent to one knee, a smile curving his lips as he held up a slim silver ring, a diamond stone set in its center. He said your name softly, so sweetly it made your heart flutter, and asked, “Will you take this ring and make me the happiest man on earth?” 

“Yes,” you whispered, too startled to yell. And then you processed, and you squealed, “Oh my - yes!” as you slid the ring onto your finger and pulled him up into a kiss all in one motion. “Yes, yes, yes!” you repeated, throwing your arms around his neck in a happy hug. 

Your kisses turned deeper, but you pulled away after a second, resting your head on his chest with a sigh. “Shit,” you muttered. “You have to leave, don’t you?” Harry nodded, pushing you away gently to give you a kiss on the nose. “Just a few weeks.” 

“You’re a fuckin’ tease, Styles,” you sighed. 

“You love me,” Harry laughed. 

“Oh, shut it and get out of here. You’ll never forgive me if you miss your flight.”

 “That I won’t. Don’t have too much fun without me, wifey.” 

“As long as you don’t split your pants on stage.” 

“Dunno ‘bout that, love, could be proper entertaining, eh?” 

“Proper great view, too.” 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Harry laughed. “I’m gonna miss my flight.”

“What a pity.” 

Harry laughed, stepping outside. “Bye, wifey.” 

“You call me that one more time and the wedding’s off!” you told him.

Harry turned around, blowing you a kiss with a cheeky smile. “Goodbye, darling.” 

You smiled, fiddling with your new ring. “Bye, Harry.”

***

the end 💜

hope you liked it!!!! I’m kinda not too sure about this one lol it’s been sitting in my drafts for about 2.3 billion years... but here it is! if you liked it, feedback and a reblog would be much appreciated :) 

masterlist is here

thanks for reading!