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spicysoftsweet · 3 years

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A Thorn In The Side - Gojo x Reader

Summary: Infatuation enduring from high school is more of a problem than you or he think (~3.4k words).

Warnings: fem pronouns, fem!reader, noncon, kidnapping, yandere, wlw mention, gojo is a pos

A/N: Part of @suedebunn‘s Hanahaki collab!

When the strongest jujutsu sorcerer to have ever lived wakes up in the early am with the sensation of thorns scratching his throat and fullness in his stomach, he’s baffled.

Even more so when he doubles over in bed to cough profusely to the point of near emesis, shocking for a man who rarely gets sick. He stares blankly at a pillow covered in droplets of flecks of red, and his eyes widen with trepidation, until he realizes those large drops strewn across his bed come from flowers rather than blood.

He must be dreaming, Gojo Satoru tells himself, but the satiny feel of the scarlet petals between his fingertips is very real.

Or perhaps a curse.

“So you expect me to diagnose you over the phone?”

Shoko pulled a drag of her cigarette as though for dramatic effect, blowing it out with a sigh, but continued to listen. She had to be up early anyway and ignoring Gojo would only make him more annoying in her experience.

“So what are your symptoms again?” she asked.

“Apparently my insides are trying to match my beautiful outsides~” he sang.

Shoko rolled her eyes, and as though he could see her, Gojo laughed loudly.

“In all seriousness, I’m turning into a garden. Coughing up flowers apparently.”

“Coughing up flowers, huh?” She leaned a little further against her balcony, her eyes setting on the early morning sunrise she could view from her high rise apartment. “Do you think it’s some type of curse?”

“It’s… different,” he replied, somewhat noncommittally. “I don’t think it’s cursed energy, actually.”

This was unexpected.

“What else do you feel?”

“Uneasy…”

It was Shoko’s turn to laugh. An interesting choice of words coming from him.

“Any ideas?” Gojo insisted.

“I mean, it could be some kind of undetectable curse. I’d know if I got to see you… How does your heart feel when you cough up the flowers?”

“It races.”

“Your mind?”

“Also races… lightheaded.”

“Any thoughts?”

“None.”

“As expected.” she teased, laughing again until she realized that for once, Gojo was silent on the other end of the phone. She scratched her head, then ran her fingers through her fingertips.

“Come in at 2pm today, okay? Don’t be late.”

---

“Well, you’re right,” Shoko stated, stepping back from the examination table, and crossing her arms as she set herself down on a stool to formulate her assessment.

Her friend, already graced with the palest of color palettes, did actually look ill, dark circles prominent enough to match hers marring his porcelain skin. He sat, legs spread apart, and leaning onto the weight of his hands besides him, raising an eyebrow quizzically..

“It’s not cursed energy, alright,” she said, with a sigh. She stretched out her hand.

“You brought the sample, right?”

Gojo, uncharacteristically a bit listless, tossed her the bag of vomited petals from this morning, covered in now dry saliva and other fluids. Not batting an eyelash, Shoko slipped on a pair of gloves and felt inside the bag, petals crumbling at her fingertips.

Definitely not cursed energy. She placed the bag on a disorganized counter behind her, making a mental note of scrutinizing it further under a microscope.

“Ideas?” Gojo asked after he’d decided that the time he’d given her to think was enough. It turned out the idea of being sick irritated him more than he expected.

The very idea of being vulnerable made him slightly nauseous.

Shoko let out a chuckle that sounded more nervous than she had intended.

“My only other thought is Hanahaki disease.”

“Hanahaki?” Gojo repeated.

“Yeah,” she stated. Crossing her legs, she relaxed into her stool further as she watched the young man carefully. “Who’s the unlucky one?”

“You mean?”

“Who’s the unfortunate soul you’re in love with?” She asked again, waiting for his response. The truth was that she was quite shocked at the idea of Gojo being afflicted with Hanahaki, that he of all people could have such a pure, destructive form of love given his track history.

She’d known him long enough to know that his body count was near ridiculous.

He tilted his head, then burst into laughter.

“Myself, duh.”

“Well, auto-Hanahaki isn’t a thing, but I suppose if it was, you’d be the one to be afflicted with it.”

She decided not to press further. “Whoever it is, I’d recommend you settle your feelings as soon as possible,” she added. “People don’t usually die from this but you look surprisingly like shit so I’d be careful.”

Gojo ran a hand through his hair, hopping off the table and pulling back on his shirt.

Settling his feelings may be more complicated than either of the two of them expected.

---

You were in the middle of your drive home when Shoko’s name finally flashed on your dashboard. Grinning, you picked up on the car speaker, mischief in your voice.

“It’s 7:03 and you promised me you’d call at 7 sharp, babe. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“You’re going to hold 3 minutes against me?” Her sultry voice filled your ears as you made the last turn between the grocery store and your apartment, and you hoped she’d be inside your home waiting for you so that you could actually hold something tangible against her.

“I did say I wasn’t going to tolerate you being late for anything anymore, didn’t I?” You teased.

“Bold declaration for someone who isn’t even home yet,” Shoko retorted.

In minutes, you were walking through the door, arms charged with bags full of groceries for dinner you’d planned to cook together. Shoko greeted you with a kiss on the forehead as you placed them on the counter.

“Did you miss me?”

You did, but you stuck out your tongue at her instead. Her hand intertwined with yours briefly before you separated to unpack items for dinner.

“I promise I’ll be less busy,” she offered as the two of you worked in tandem. Your stomach was already growling, so the sooner you had food on the table, the better.

“It’s no problem,” you replied, and you meant it only half-heartedly. It’s true she was less busy than a regular civilian doctor, but it seemed recently that her clinic was getting overrun with more and more curse victims. Things had been bad recently in the world, you figured.

You were happy to step back from the world of sorcery, but small reminders like these persisted.

“Did you still manage to fit Gojo in today?”

She had complained earlier today that Gojo always managed to make a bad day worse.

“Mmm,” is what she offered over the sound of chopping vegetables. You understood that she couldn’t say more, on top of the fact that any discussion of Gojo was already a sore subject. It didn’t have to be, and it shouldn’t have been, but this was what it was.

“Hope he’s okay,” you offered, as you turned on the stove.

“He’ll be fine,” she replied, her voice now quieter than usual.

---

The first and last time Gojo fell in love was in the spring of his third year, he suddenly recalled in the middle of a tryst, as an upsettingly subpar blowjob allowed his mind to wander. The young woman whose gags sounded almost theatrical when compared to the amount of pleasure he was actually receiving was starting to get on his nerves, but instead he took matters in his own hands, wrapping her long ponytail around his wrist before guiding the back of her head so she took him deeper.

If she was gonna choke, she should commit to it.

He’d fallen in love with you at first sight. It was a strange feeling for him to immediately be enamored with someone upon first glance instead, having always been the recipient of many an awe-filled or fawning look.

You were a transfer from the sister school, already a rare occurrence, and what was even rarer was the fact that you both had little affinity to jujutsu and little interest in getting better. One could wonder why you even showed up in the first place, much less why you’d moved from one school to the other.

You’d quit as expected just before graduation, but not before you caught his eye.

“You’re pretty shitty at this,” he’d remarked, attempting to win you over with humor when he’d been assigned to you for both orientation and possible tutoring. “Of course, you can always ask me for help,” he added, flashing pearly whites at you.

He was the opposite of successful in wooing you.

“I suppose since this comes easy to you, this is just funny, right?” You’d quipped.

Your words cut more than both you and he anticipated, but it didn’t exactly matter. You were not interested in him, the way he was interested in you.

But Shoko was different.

You became fast friends and upon your departure from the technical college, you’d remained in contact despite withdrawing from everyone else related to magic.

Even if Gojo tried many times to either bring you back to this world you’d left behind or be part of your new one, you’d rebuffed him every time. Harshly.

“I don’t know why you expect everyone to worship you,” was the last thing you’d said to him. “I’ve already made it clear that I don’t want to be part of this life,” you’d insisted. “Why would I change my mind just because you asked me to?”

You were right.

And yet you loved Shoko.

The young woman whose name he’d forgotten’s face was now pressed against his pubic bone and she now began to squirm, slapping and scratching at him like some kind of trapped animal as she struggled to breathe, reminding him that he’d daydreamed for too long.

“Sorry,” he offered, as he released his grip, leaving her to sputter and choke. Looking at her, knowing that she was not you suddenly made him want to choke himself, to bring forth that impromptu garden of unrequited feelings.

He patted her on the back gingerly, and once it looked like she’d restabilized, pulled her in for another kiss.

If only her lips tasted like yours.

---

Shoko’s hand glided against the curve of your hips, taking in the image of you sleeping softly on your side, facing her. She dipped down to kiss your nose; it was the only time the fact that she had such an issue with sleep benefited her, this ability to almost always wake up before you.

You looked incredibly peaceful while sleeping, and she had to admit this angelic view of you was even better than your features twisted in a pleasured mewl (not that it wasn’t a close battle).

There was a nagging concern in the pit of her stomach, however.

Gojo suffering from unrequited love could be a problem, if the object of his affections did happen to be you. But it had been years ago that he’d pursued you unsuccessfully, why present now?

Why present to her office of all people? Gojo could be inconsiderate, but not to this extent.

But what if he didn’t know that this was what he was feeling? Suppressed feelings taking root and morphing themselves into the tangible he couldn’t ignore?

She sat up, resting her back against the backboard, the lack of a cigarette between her lips being palliated with the gnaw of her thumbnail.

It couldn’t be. Not you.

Please, not you.

---

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Shoko checked in about a week later.

Gojo didn’t share that he’d spent the entire morning in a coughing fit of petals, now definitely streaked with blood, and the entire last night vomiting enough flowers into the toilet that it had overflowed.

He didn’t comment on the entire scarlet sage plants with large green leaves that threatened to sprout from every orifice, not just his throat, but his ears and nostrils, possibly from behind his eyes.

He didn’t know what was next, only that it was getting worse.

The constant fire in the pit of his stomach, the shivers, the chills, the incessant flash of you running through his mind, your name moaned in the darkness, his body drenched in sweat.

The fact that he knew it was because he loves you and cannot find an alternative for you.

The fact that he must have you, and only you.

“Has it gotten better or worse?” Shoko asked.

“I’m fine,” Gojo reassured her, masking the exhaustion in his voice, and she made the mistake of believing him.

---

You awoke in darkness with an icy cold searing into your skin.

It took you a moment to let your eyes adjust to the light and for your body to resume the motor control it had briefly relinquished in sleep before you could reorient yourself. You were laying on ground of some sort, maybe hardwood which implied that you were in some kind of building.

Your head throbbed viciously as you shifted slowly to a sitting position and you almost expected there to be blood as you ran your hands over the back of your head, checking for injury. But there was nothing, just the normal feel of your hair, and the steady thump of your temples in time with your pounding heart.

Looking around, your eyes soon fixed to the low light, not actual darkness to center on a figure in the center of the room.

You let out a gasp of surprise.

Gojo.

Not only had it been a while and he was the last person you expected to see, he looked stranger than he ever had.

He sat perched on a chair backwards, chin leaning on the top of the backrest. His head was tilted, and he watched you warily but fixedly through eyes that looked sunken into their orbits. Their clear blue was still sharp in the darkness.

His skin had taken on an almost ghostly cast to match his hair, and he was thinner than you remembered as though he had been slowly withering away since the last time you saw him. That was ages ago.

Your limbs froze in anticipation. You didn’t have to be a genius to recognize that whatever was happening or was about to happen was bad.

“Why did you bring me here?”

He stared at you blankly for a moment, unmoving. If he weren’t so extraordinarily fatigued, he would have sat up straighter in his chair and offered you a smile. You were still as pretty as the day he first laid eyes on you, after all. What a welcome sight.

“I guess I missed you,” he responded instead, quietly.

Your teeth gritted as you flared up in indignation.

“Excuse me?”

He cut you off with a loud, exasperated sigh, mustering the little bit of energy he had left to run a hand through his hair.

“Listen, I thought I’d forgotten myself, but it turns out that I’m being betrayed by my own body.”

As though to add effect, a coughing fit began just at the end of his sentence, and you watched as he spat flowers into the palm of his hand, lowering them for you to see.

“And it seems like you’re the cause of this.”

Your eyes widened as you took in the sight of bloody petals falling through his fingertips and hitting the ground.

He was completely out of his mind.

“I…,” you shakily got yourself up to your feet, not letting your gaze leave Gojo for a second. He didn’t get out of the chair, but he did shift so that he leaned back in the seat, a wicked smile on his face.

“You...?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You spat. “Where the hell am I and how did I get here?”

He finally did get up, although it was done in a dramatic, strained movement. He really had lost weight, you noticed, picking up the flash of pale wrists before he shoved his hands in his pocket.

“I know it sounds crazy but apparently, according to your girlfriend, I’m suffering from lovesickness.”

He bared more of his teeth now, looking more like a grimace than a grin by this time. “I didn’t believe it either, but then I started seeing you in my mind every single waking moment.”

In the split second it took for you to blink, he had crossed the distance between you, so that he was now in your personal space, the palm of his hand inappropriately caressing your face, as tender as you’d expect from Shoko.

And you immediately jumped back and backhanded him as hard as you could.

The crack of your hand was loud and exaggerated, reverberating in the room. For a moment, you froze in shock, surprised the slap had actually landed, before shaking out your now burning hand and following up with a hiss.

“Don’t you fucking touch me.”

Gojo’s icy blue eyes glint, demonic in their delight.

“That’s the feisty bitch I remember.”

---

It was nearing 24 hours since you’d failed to reply to Shoko’s text and the normally collected woman was terribly anxious.

She’d stayed at work late, and still, not a single message from you.

The nagging feeling in the back of her mind returned.

What if it were you?

Gojo couldn’t be that insane, could he?

When she entered your home to find traces of red salvia scattered throughout your home, it only confirmed her fears.

---

“I don’t want to do this either. I mean it.”

It was hard to believe him when he seemed to savor every brush of the lips as he trailed kisses along your inner thighs, spread open with the force of his hands. Gojo had always been deceptively strong, even now, when it looked like he was wilting just as much as the flowers he coughed up.

Your wrists were bound to a fixed point at the head of a foreign bed, and your ankles to the bedposts anteriorly to prevent you from fighting. Not that you would have been able to fight back anyway, but the severe fatigue permeating his very bones made him less willing to risk anything.

When his lips made it to your center to circle your clit, you writhed in disgust, forcing back the sighs of pleasure that would inevitably ensure.

“Y-you can’t - ah - make me love you…”

Gojo paused the swishing of his tongue to give you a look that reeked enough of apathy that it was almost startling.

“I’m aware, but there’s no harm in trying.”

---

“Where the fuck is she?”

Satoru had the ostentatiousness within him to receive the phone call on speaker, so that you could hear Shoko beg to find out your whereabouts.

“She’s with me,” he replied, calmly to her, holding the phone in one hand and pumping fingers in and out of your slippery cunt with the other.

By this time, Gojo had gotten tired of your expletives which no longer retained the initial cute charm, so your screams for help were muffled by a gag over your own wet panties shoved into your mouth.

He’d been at this for hours.

There was a pause on the phone from Shoko’s end that sounded like something crashing to the ground, maybe a plate breaking.

Her tone changed immediately.

“P-please don’t hurt her.”

“I’m not.”

He glanced at you who glared back at him with reddened eyes and tear-stained cheeks. You looked even prettier when you were so totally helpless.

“I would never,” he added.

The pump of his fingers slowed but did not stop.

“This won’t fix you,” Shoko warned, almost in a low protective hiss, her own voice breaking. “This won’t fix anything, you bastard.”

He cut off the phone abruptly, and let out a sigh before shifting his attention back to you.

“Where were we?”

---

Maybe if I pretend, he’ll stop?

Or will he continue? Will I just affirm that he won?

His thrusts were relentless, as was the constant tugging at your hair, the teeth sinking into every inch of your skin, the moans and groans whispered into your ears or your bosom.

A violation in every sense of the word.

You were running out of tears.

The fact that it’s pointless, you and he both know it. Your true love knows it, that this is just an excuse to get back at you. For what? Rejection?

He would die anyway. You would never return his feelings, if there even truly were any.

He continued to rut into you, and flowers started to stain every inch of your bodies, covering them in a deep scarlet.

Red. Red. Red.

Blood. Rage. Power. Passion.

You probably didn’t need the restraints anymore. You had no fight left in you.

Just the satisfaction, however small, that regardless of what he did to you, he would still eventually succumb to nature and perish in a bed of putrid efflorescence.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #collab fic #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo smut #shoko x reader #tw noncon #mae.writing

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theonewiththefanfics · 4 years

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Don’t Worry, Darling (one-shot)

Synopsis: Falling in love with a co-star is something that can hurt, especially when it seems like they’re talking to other people behind your back, but falling in love with a co-star and being unable to help when they’re sick, is even worse.

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff, SMUT

Warnings: COVID-19, sickness, swearing, SMUT (fingering, m going down on f, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it))

Word count: 11 968 (yoikes)

Please note I’m not trying to make light of the pandemic or the virus and those impacted by it. It’s a very real and serious thing, which is why I decided to use it. Please stay safe and healthy, follow the local health guidelines and if you have the ability please get vaccinated. Let’s keep ourselves and one another safe, frens :)

When Y/N got the call she’d gotten the role of Jack’s ex-wife who’d disappeared in mysterious circumstances, she was over the moon. As a Marvel alumnus, she was excited to work with Florence, as she’d loved Midsommar, and knowing she was going to be one of the new faces carrying the next Marvel chapter, she wanted to get to know her. Having played Tony Stark’s adopted daughter since the age of six, she was very protective of the franchise but was excited to see where it’d go.

Then Shia LaBeouf, Chris Pine as well with Dakota Johnson’s announcements coming soon after, Y/N got even more stoked, and with Olivia Wilde leading all of them, she was sure the movie would be a hit.

Shia and Dakota had to drop out due to scheduling issues (which Y/N couldn’t lie – she was kind of happy Shia couldn’t do it), and that's where Harry Styles took over the role of Jack with Kiki Layne Dakota’s Margaret.

Now, when Y/N had seen Harry’s picture next to the re-cast e-mail the whole production had been sent out, she might’ve had a little (a massive, like a ginormous) freak-out. As much as she’d grown up listening to classic rock, due to Robert Downey Jr. and Iron Man, she’d been an avid One Direction fan. Like to the point, it might even seem a bit creepy. Y/N had sort of grown out of the obsessive phase of it all, but most definitely admired the solo albums they’d been able to produce, and when Dunkirk came out, she was excited to see Harry join the acting world, with the amount of talent he had.

The first table read was sort of awkward, and definitely the weirdest one, given how a pandemic had started, and everyone was at their respective homes using Zoom.

Y/N and Florence had been the first to join the conversation about half an hour before the official beginning, and by the time everyone else did, they were crying from laughter and had to excuse themselves from their computers to collect whatever remaining composure they had.

“You two alright?” Oliva Wilde had raised her eyebrow, as the women re-joined, still chuckling. “Will we have to use body doubles for the scenes you two are in?”

“No!

“Nohooo!” both of them yelled through laughter. “We’ll be as professional as professionals are. Which is very professional.”

Then Y/N made the mistake of glancing at Florence’s square, and the two busted out laughing again, spewing apologies in between, but no one seemed to really mind. In fact, it looked like they appreciated how casual and open everyone was being, hoping the set wouldn’t be stiff either when they moved onto filming.

And for the two women, it wasn’t really. Actually, they grew closer than ever. The amount of time Florence spent in Y/N’s trailer was to the point that the two started to talk about just moving in together. After scouring the nearby apartments for rent, they settled on a three-bedroom apartment, as two-bedroom ones were non-existent.

When Harry grew closer to them as well, given how he spent quite some time with both women, they suggested he move in as well.

“You know, what? I changed my mind. You’re taking away our closet, and I don't like that,” Y/N pouted, watching as Florence lifted a pile of her clothes and moved it to her room. “That’s not very ‘treat people with kindness’ of you.”

All he did was flick a finger at her forehead, which Y/N swatted away with a smile. When he’d double-checked about moving in with them (which, mind you was the seventh time, and half his stuff was already there), the two women were ecstatic. They got along amazingly on set and basically having a sleepover with friends every night suited all of them quite well.

At that moment, Y/N was sitting on the edge of her bed, knitting while Harry painted all of their toes and Florence put on facemasks.

“Wine!” Y/N suddenly exclaimed, almost knocking over the light blue nail polish bottle as she jumped up, throwing her needles back on the bed. “We need wine!”

“Do not ruin my masterpiece!” Harry hollered after her, as she waddled away on her heels, toes separated by foam and hight up in the air. She even had to manoeuvre around the carpet to avoid any hairs and fibres that could get stuck inside the still wet lacquer.

It took her a second to find a bottle all three of them could enjoy, given their tastes were so different – Y/N preferred sweet and red, and didn’t care if it was a three-dollar bottle from Target, Harry had a bit more of an expensive pallet, giving preference to something with a more of a lingering aftertaste and in the higher ranges of price point, while Florence liked rosé and white wines.

Taking two glasses in one hand and the bottle with a third glass between her fingers, she shuffled back to her room when she heard the two muttering something in low voices before Harry whispered harshly, “I’m not telling Y/N that!”

“Won’t me what?” Y/N’s question made him and Florence spring back where they’d been engaged in a heated conversation when she re-entered the room, putting the wine bottle and glasses on the nightstand.

Florence waved her off, giving her a smile, she didn’t believe in. “Nothing. Now come on, Harry will do your fingernails now, and I think it’s about time the mask came off.”

And that’s when Y/N’s heart dropped. She’d been in the industry long enough to know how fake people could be, how they could put on smiles so inviting and friendly while hiding their true intentions behind them. She just didn’t think two people she’d found so genuine and sweet would be like that.

And the thing was – it wasn’t the first time she’d heard the two whispering like that and hushing up when they saw her enter the room or even come somewhere near to them.

In the beginning, Y/N had chalked it up to the two being closer, given they had to spend more time together, so they knew one another better, but this time sort of solidified it wasn’t the fact the two were closer, it had to deal with Y/N specifically.

So, she started to distance herself. She’d had enough users in her life to last her for the rest of it. Y/N excused herself from the movie nights they had on most Fridays, she no longer joined in on the cooking sessions and mostly spent time in her room, or on work calls.

When she re-entered the flat, four weeks after their falling out, they watched as she nodded to them, and went inside her room, closing the door, much like she’d been doing for the past thirty days.

“Do you think she knows?” Harry asked, brows furrowed and bottom lip between his teeth as he hoped the doors would open, yet, obviously, they didn’t.

“Well, I haven’t told her, and unless you did, then I doubt it…”

Harry stood up, running a hand through his hair. “I’m gonna talk to her.”

“You think it’s a good idea?”

“No, but if she’s upset maybe she needs to talk to someone.”

“Or maybe she wants to be alone.”

Harry bit his lip thinking over Florence’s words. When he was upset about something, he himself did like to kind of retreat and become a little bit of a recluse, to sort out his emotions before anyone else tried to jump in and help with it, but the thing was – Y/N’s distancing started the night when she’d walked in on the two of them arguing, and it’d been about the girl in question herself, so he shook his head. “I’ll just ask if she’s alright.”

He took a deep breath and went to enter the room he hadn’t seen in almost a month. “Hey.” Harry poked his head through Y/N’s door, making her swirl around in her chair. She looked adorable to him. She’d changed into a big fluffy nightgown, the hood up, a headband pushing hair away from her face with a green facemask covering her skin. The domestic life flashed through Harry’s head like a freight train, as it was something he craved, but pushed it away. There was no daydreaming before figuring out what was in front of him in reality. “You okay?”

“ 'M fine.” She shot him a quick smile. “Why? Did Olivia send something new for the script?”

“Um, no, ‘s just you’ve been, I dunno – detached a bit?”

“Look, Harry… I may be younger than you, but I’ve been in this industry longer than you or Florence.” Y/N stood and shrugged before crossing her arms. “And the thing is – I don’t care for shit like that. So, you two can gossip and whisper and talk whatever you want about me behind my back. Everyone else is doing that so, you’re not that special. But’ I’d prefer if you did it somewhere else besides my room, my space, and I’ll say this once, but very clearly – we’re not friends. I don’t need friends like you. We’ll be civil and we’ll do our jobs, but…” Harry’s heart broke at her eyes, seeing the pain in them as she nodded and made sure he understood where she stood. “We’re not friends.”

She didn’t leave any room for argument. When Harry left, Y/N didn’t even look over her shoulder to see him exit.

The next couple of mornings she didn’t see them leave nor come back, seeing as Y/N had the week off from filming, but the morning of the seventh day was awkward as hell, given how all of them had to go and get tested, and well, they had their allocated time slots one after the other. Usually, they’d take one car together, but this time, Y/N drove off on her own, while Harry and Florence carpooled on their own.

The tests were always nerve-wracking. If one person went down, the whole production did for at least two weeks. And as much as she hated going in alone, she was glad no one was with her in the car, because as she stepped out, a certain notion swept over her that this would be a lot different than usual.

A doctor dressed head to toe in protective gear motioned for her to sit down, as another processed her ID and work ID. Her leg was bouncing up and down the whole time, and he eyed her. If she could see his lips, she was sure they’d be pursed. “Anything wrong?” He handed her back the IDs before moving to the table where a set of large q-tips seemed to lay in sterile packs.

Y/N sighed, biting her lip and nodded. “Woke up with a sore throat and a small cough appeared on my way here as well. I wiped and cleaned everything down at the apartment I’m staying at and wore gloves and a mask the whole time.”

“Anything else?” the doctor asked, writing down each word as Y/N said. “The feeling of breaking bones, fever, muscle pain, eyes hurting when you look up, lost sense of smell or taste?”

“No, nothing like that. Just a sore throat and a small cough.”

The doctor let out a large sigh, probably from having to wear a full-on hazmat suit. “Alright. Just for safety reasons, so we know who’s a potential contact person, who are you staying with?”

“Florence Pugh and Harry Styles. We’re renting an apartment together.”

“Do you know if they’ve had any symptoms?”

“No,” Y/N shook her head honestly. “And I haven’t really interacted with them this past week, as they’ve been on set, and I didn’t have any scenes to film, and by the time they get back, I’m already asleep, and I’m still asleep when they leave so there’s been no direct contact. We have our own kitchenware, so there shouldn’t be any direct contact. I think.”

That last bit was half-true, seeing as she hadn’t been asleep when they came back, but she might as well have been. The second Y/N heard the door click, she’d place her headphones on or leave the room, only glimpsing the two faces falling as she did that.

The doctor clearing his throat and motioning for Y/N to open her mouth so he could take a swab and then to do the same for both her nostrils, was what brought her out of it. She was so used to it, it was like nothing at that point. “Okay. We’ll need you to stay in the car while the test is being run, and if it comes back positive, you’ll be placed in a separate flat, as to not endanger the rest.”

Her ‘alright’ was barely audible. Fuck. It just felt like the universe was against her. First, the two people she’d gotten closest to were whispering behind her back and being fake to her face, now she might have a super contagious virus to which there was no medicine really, nor was there a vaccine, let alone the thought she’d have to miss filming for potentially more than two weeks.

The thirty minutes of wait were agonizing, her leg bouncing up and down. Y/N’s eyes kept watching the line of cars slowly move forward through the tent and then settle behind hers. She knew Harry was about five cars away, and she was glad he wasn’t closer. They weren’t really allowed to get out of their vehicles while the tests were being run, and Y/N didn’t think she’d be able to not look back at him through her review mirror.

Two more minutes passed when finally, one of the med students in the full hazmat suit came up and knocked on her car window.

“Miss Y/L/N?”

“Yes?”

“ID please.” It was standard so that no med info got leaked. The only reason she had to rummage through her stuff was, because she’d bite the little plastic card in half if she didn’t throw it somewhere deep inside her bag.

“So.” The man sighed, and he didn’t need to elaborate. Y/N understood, but still, he had to confirm it to her. “Your test came back positive for COVID-19. The production has been informed, and for safety reasons, everyone will have to self-isolate for two weeks.”

Y/N’s head slammed against the back of the seat. “Fuck. Okay.”

“Because so far, you’re the only positive case, you’ll be placed into quarantine. We’ll need the address you’re staying at, and if you need anything from your apartment, we can send someone over to grab a few things. You’ll have to follow the black SUV right there.” He pointed further down the lot where indeed a black SUV stood. “They’ll take you to where the quarantine apartments are. Is there anything immediate you’ll need?”

“I – uh – I need my pills, my birth control that is. I take it every evening. Computer, chargers. That’s the most immediate I can think of. Maybe some food? I didn’t get the chance to eat breakfast.”

Even through the mask, Y/N could see the man smile. “Well arrange that. In the meantime, here’s the number for the coordinators who’ll get you the rest of your things and deliver them to you.”

“Thank you. I’ll call my assistant, and she’ll drive down to the apartment. She knows where everything is.”

“Have you been in close contact with her?”

“Just through the phone. She hasn’t been on set in almost a month, as I told her only to come when it’s an emergency… Guess this is it.” Y/N let out an awkward chuckle.

And truly that was it. With one last motion as to where the SUV stood, she started back up the engine, reversed out of the spot and followed the car to where the ‘Don’t Worry Darling’ production had set up a few quarantine apartments, specifically for actors and crew, speed-dialling her assistant Anna and letting her know of the situation.

“Shit, girl,” she’d cursed. “That sucks.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Okay,” Anna huffed. “Do you have a spare key for the apartment by any case or do I need to go down to the lot and ask Harry or Florence?”

“Both of them will be at the apartment, given how everything’s shut down, so they should be able to open the door for you. Hopefully, if both of them are negative. If not, call me, I’ll tell you where we hide the spare. Thank you, Anna.”

“Of course.”

As Y/N pulled up behind the SUV, a man and a woman in face guards and masks stepped out. She ended the call and stepped out as well, pulling on a cloth face mask, an envelope in their hands, which they handed to her.

“Your flat’s on the third floor, 367. When you have the list of things you need, forward them to us, and we’ll gather your things.”

Y/N nodded and gave them a tight smile. “Thank you. I’ll be as quick as I can.”

With a sigh, she took her bag and entered the complex. As much as she’d only had a small cough in the morning and a sore throat, walking up those flights of stairs made her winded more than it usually would. Maybe it was the knowledge she had a sickness, or maybe it was stress about missing work and putting everyone on lockdown, or maybe it was the combination of it all with her falling out with Harry and Florence on top.

She placed the key in the lock and twisted, revealing a studio type apartment, and it was so bare it made her heart clench. As much as she felt awkward being around Florence and Harry, their flat was a bit messy, had little pieces of clothing thrown around, giant knitted blankets on the sofas, a candle always lit whenever someone was home. Harry’s shoes were typically all over the place while Y/N’s make up was scattered around everywhere. Literally. Florence and Harry had gotten back early one morning from a night shoot and found her looking under the sofas for one of her lash glues as she started to get ready for the day. They’d made that flat their home for the time being. This… this was nothing like that.

She threw the keys on the small kitchen counter and shrugged off her jacket. They was going to be a long two weeks. At best.

***

Back at their place, Florence and Harry were pacing around, having heard the news that someone was positive, and everything had to shut down for the time being, yet Y/N was nowhere to be seen when a knock at the door disrupted them.

Harry was there and flinging it open in a matter of a second, only to be stopped by Anna instead of Y/N.

“Hey.” His brows furrowed as she and two people all wearing masks and gloves entered. “What’s going on? Is Y/N alright?”

Anna sighed, nodding her head for the two strangers to go towards the woman’s room. “She was the one who tested positive for the virus. Gave me a list of the things she’d need while in quarantine. We’re here to pick ‘em up and get them to her.”

“And she’s not doing that here?”

“Per the safety instructions, she’s been placed in a separate flat in self-isolation.”

“She could’ve done that here. We’d be fine with it,” Florence butted in, arms crossed over her chest. “We’re more than willing to take care of her. She’ll need someone to help her.”

“You both tested negative.” One of the people piped up, carrying a box of books and yarn. “I’m sorry, but she’ll have to quarantine separately until she’s no longer infected. She’s under the supervision of doctors, and she knows if an emergency happens, they’ll be there in ten minutes tops. I’m sorry, but this is how it has to be.”

Harry sighed, nodding as the people exited their place, but before Anna could leave, he took hold of her bicep. “Hey, can you please tell her to call me? I just wanna talk.”

“I uh – ” Anna furrowed her brows, showing Harry that Y/N hadn’t said anything to her about the falling out they’d had. “I’ll uh, yeah. I’ll do that.”

With that he was left to close the door and just wait for… anything.

***

In the two hours Y/N had spent in the apartment, she already felt like going insane, having been left alone with her thoughts, so how she was going to do another two weeks after finally getting back into the rhythm of work was beyond her. She didn’t have any of her knitting supplies, didn’t have any of her books (yet), and most likely there was no reason to look at her script anymore, as she’d made up her mind about a lot of things.

There was a knock at the door, and Y/N instantly had a mask on her face and gloves on her hands. She peeped through the peephole and when she saw boxes lined in the hallway, three people in masks and faceguards at least six feet away, only then did she open the door and give them a wave.

“Everything should be here, but if you need anything else just pop me a message.” Anna then pointed at a bag that sat atop everything. “There are the most important things, so you don’t have to rummage through everything and a pizza is on the way while I do some grocery shopping for you. And umm, there’s a paper you need to sing that you know you need to be in self-isolation and that you understand what happens if you’re not.”

Y/N hoped all of them understood she was smiling underneath the mask, grateful for having them help her out like that. “Thank you. So much.”

She rushed inside found a pen and signed it, moving between the boxes to place the papers on the stairs so that they could be safely retrieved. With that, the two assigned people left, leaving Anna to say goodbye.

“Call me.” She pointed at Y/N. “No matter what, even if you just wanna talk for five seconds.”

“Will do.” Y/N nodded and gave her a thumbs up. “If I could, I’d hug you.”

Anna sighed, cocking her head. “Same. And umm, Harry told me to ask you to call him.”

“Yeah, uh thank you.” She knew he probably wanted to talk, so it wasn’t that big of a surprise, but it still made her stumble on her words. “Take care, Anna.”

“You too.”

***

The next two days Y/N spent worrying as to how to present her decisions to the cast and crew. She felt worse with every hour, and with that had come her thought process, but as much as everyone was going to be impacted by what she was going to do, Olivia would be the one dealing with it most, so later that night she hopped on a Zoom call with her director.

“Hey, girl.” Olivia gave her a warm smile, and Y/N almost melted. God, she loved that woman. She was like the older sister she never had. “How are you doing?”

“I’m alright. Feelin’ kind of woozy from time to time, throat’s killing me, and I’m fairly certain I’m getting abs from how much I’m coughing.” That made both of them chuckle before Y/N bit her lip and ran a hand through her hair. “Look,” she sighed, looking at Olivia. “The reason I called you is that umm… well, I think it’d be a lot more cost-effective for you to re-cast me. We’ve barely shot one scene with me. I’ll be out of commission for two weeks, as a minimum. It could get worse. And I’m definitely not going to be back before I get two negative consecutive tests.”

Olivia shook her head, running down her hands over her face and then through her hair. “Y/N, I really don’t want to do this. There’s a reason we cast you. You’re amazing, and yours and Harry’s chemistry is off the charts. We’re all quarantining for two weeks, and I’m sure you’ll be fine in no time, back on set and killing it like you always do.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Of course, I do! Nothing’s gonna happen to you.”

“All I’m saying it could take up to a month to get those two negative tests. By that point, you could’ve shot at least a fourth of my scenes. Olivia…” Y/N gave her a small, sad smile. “I know you know I’m right. I hate to pass on this, but I won’t hinder the production. If you want my input, I’ll help with the re-casting, if it takes the guilt away.”

“I still feel like shit this is an option we even have to consider.”

“’S not your fault. You didn’t get me sick. We should be happy it’s just me, not someone else or more than one person.”

***

For two more days, it was radio silence from Y/N, and Harry and Florence were anxious messes. If they could distract themselves from the falling out while on set, then now, having to be cooped up inside the apartment with pretty much nothing to do, was so much worse, not to mention Y/N declined all of their calls and left their messages on read, leaving the only option for checking in either through Anna or what she decided to share on her social media, which wasn’t a lot. But the thing was, Harry knew his best bet was to call Y/N in the middle of the night. Disorientated and barely awake, she probably wouldn’t look at the caller ID once. And he was right.

A bleary face appeared on his screen, eyes squinting as she tried to block out as much of the light as possible. “Hello?” Her voice was scratchy, and Harry’s heart clenched at just how much pain her throat must be in, let alone how she was feeling as a whole.

“Hey, there, lovie.”

It took her a second to comprehend the person who was speaking, and she’d be lying if she said hearing Harry’s voice didn’t bring her some sort of joy. “Hey, H. Are you alright? Why are you still up?”

“I couldn’t sleep. Kept thinking about you.”

Y/N hummed, rolling on her side, and immediately regretting it as the action elicited a coughing fit. “Yeah?” she asked hoarsely. “ ’Nd what about me?”

‘How shitty I feel about everything’, ‘I miss you’, ‘I’m so fucking terrified’, but instead he asked, “How are you doing?”

“Alright,” Y/N croaked out before her body was racked with coughs once more. Harry’s own chest hurt just hearing them. “Fever’s finally down, so I’m getting some sort of sleep. Throat’s killing me though, and they’ve hooked me up to an IV. They’ll be coming in two hours or so to change the bag. How are you?” she asked quietly. “How’s Florence?”

“She’s alright. Upset. Just like I am.”

Y/N’s brows furrowed. “Why’re you upset?”

“Are you kidding me? You’re sick, alone in quarantine and… and we can’t help you. I can’t help you.”

A genuine chuckle escaped her. “Didn’t know you had a medical degree, Styles. Could be my personal nurse. Fetch me my water and shit.”

“No, but at least I’d like to be there for you.”

“Harry…”

“I like you,” he said after taking a deep breath, hoping that the break he’d heard in Y/N’s voice as she’d said his name wasn’t just because of the sickness, but because her heart thudded just as fast as his when he thought of them together, that her mind reeled with the possibilities of where their futures could take them and that whenever they touched, she could feel the electricity that ran through his fingertips, igniting his whole body. “That’s what Florence and I were whispering about all the time. Is that I’m madly crushing on you, and I couldn’t gather the courage to say it to you.”

A strong coughing fit made her drop the phone on the bed and lean over, as she gasped for breath, and through it all, all Harry wanted was to be there. Fuck him possibly getting the virus, as long as he could make it easier for her in some way.

“ ’M sorry,” Y/N whispered, trying to keep her voice as low as possible as to not aggravate her throat. “Harry, I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, there’s nothing to apologise. You’re sick, you can’t help –”

“No,” she shook her head. “I’m sorry I assumed you and Florence were talking bad behind my back. I never should’ve done that. And this is not an excuse, I’m not trying to shift the blame from being in the wrong, but I like you too.” She gave him a shy grin that he thought was as bright as the sun. “I really like you too, Harry. I think that’s why it hurt so much to hear you two whispering ‘bout something. And thinking it was about me, and it was something bad, hurt even more, ‘cause I really connected with Flo, and I kinda, well I kind of fell for you. Hard.”

“You did?” His tone was like he didn’t believe what his ears were hearing.

“Yeah. A lot actually… I – I really like you, Harry.”

He couldn’t explain how his heart expanded in his chest while simultaneously was being crushed by his inability to help, by the distance between them, while the hope that glimmered in his eyes at Y/N’s words made her heart break as much as his was, when he asked, “So you won’t resign?”

“Harry,” Y/N made her voice as tough as it could sound with her condition. “I told them to re-cast me not because of you. I’ve been on enough sets and worked with enough pricks, and still gotten the job done. Genuinely, this is not because of you or Florence. I just – I just don’t want to hold up production. You’ll all be out in what – twelve days or something? I’ll be here for at least twice that, if everything goes the way it’s going right now.”

“I don’t want anyone else to play Larie. You are my Larie,” he muttered, which made Y/N smile, but in a true Y/N fashion she just wanted to make others feel better.

“You do know Jack murders Larie in the middle of the night.”

Harry’s mouth opened like a fishes’ while Y/N’s mouth pulled up in a grin. “That’s – that’s not what I mean, and you know it!”

Both of them were laughing now, all tension having evaporated.

“I know.” She bit on her lower lip. “But um… we’ve gotta be practical. I sent Olivia my resignation letter already, and she signed.”

She saw Harry sigh and throw back his head at her words.

“ ’M sorry, Haz. I didn’t want to but –”

“I know.” His smile was gentle, understanding. “You always put everyone before yourself. God, this just sucks major ass.”

“Trust me,” Y/N started before being interrupted by another major coughing fit. “I –,” she took in a breath. “I know.”

Her heart cracked seeing Harry’s face and his green eyes, the eyes she’d gotten lost in more times than she’d ever admitted being lined by tears. “I wish I could help you.”

“But you are. Just by – by talking to me, by keeping my mind off things. You’re helping me more than you’ll ever know.”

“When you get out, I’m taking you on a date.”

Y/N couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on her face. For the first time in a while, she felt good, despite being sick. “Is that a threat, Styles?”

“It’s a fucking promise.”

That night she fell asleep listening to Harry talking, seeing as it became harder and harder for her to do so, so he just took over, telling her stories that lulled her to dreamland where he was there, and she could touch him.

The following days she also had calls with Florence and the rest of her cast to explain the situation, but she wasn’t doing much talking anymore, and one night they’d even seen her almost throw up from coughing so much, which broke everyone’s hearts. They were lucky the only Covid case before Y/N had been a light one, so witnessing just how brutal it could be, made everyone appreciate what they had, but at the same time, feel as helpless as ever.

A week and a half in, that was when shit really hit the fan. Despite her feeling shitty the previous days, now Y/N woke up from the feeling as if she was drowning. She’d fallen asleep while talking with Harry on FaceTime, his features illuminated on her phone. At first, she thought it was just her dream still lingering and causing that effect, but when after a minute or so her lungs still remained on fire, she knew she had to dial the doctors.

In five minutes’ time, an ambulance was at her door, and it was a miracle she’d been able to get out of bed to open it because the second she did, her whole body pretty much collapsed into the arms of one of the nurses.

***

“Come on,” Harry muttered into the phone, pulling on a pair of trousers as quickly as possible and a knitted sweater he took from the floor as he immediately tried to redial her, having heard the call drop. “Come on! Pick up, Y/N!” Her voicemail answered instead.

“Damn it!”

It took Harry seven minutes with the way he was driving to get to her assigned isolation place, only to be greeted by red and blue flashing lights, an ambulance right in front of the entrance, and it took Harry five seconds to feel his heart drop as a team of three doctors wheeled out a gurney on which lay Y/N, face covered in a mask, an IV stuck inside her arm while a huge plastic cover domed over her body.

Without even thinking about himself or his safety, Harry jumped out of his car, rushing towards the ambulance.

“Sir.” One of the doctors extended a palm towards him, keeping him back as Harry tried to get towards the inside of the car. “Sir, you can’t be here.”

“Is that Y/N?” Harry felt like he was spinning out of control, and his mind was dizzy from not being able to take in a proper breath. “Is – is that Y/N?”

“Are you family?”

“I –,” Harry so desperately wanted to say yes, to say he was her boyfriend at least, but he couldn’t lie. “No, I’m just her collegue – friend! I’m her friend. Is she alright?”

“Okay, well is there anyone we can contact from her family?”

Harry nodded, knowing that her mum and dad were on her emergency contact lists. “But her family is out of the country, and they won’t be able to fly out with all the restrictions in place.”

“Alright.” The doctor sighed before looking back inside the car. In a way, Harry was happy he couldn’t see Y/N because he was sure if he did, he’d completely break down and crumble to the ground. “We’ll contact her parents, but if you could leave us your number as an emergency contact on place that’d be a lot of help.”

“Okay, uh…” Harry took in a deep breath, held it for five seconds and then let it out before reciting the number he used while in the USA and his permanent UK number as well, so he could be reachable anywhere and at any point in day or night, no matter the time.

“Well keep you up to date.”

And with that, the ambulance doors shut, and they rushed away, the vailing of sirens echoing in the dark night, leaving Harry with a hand in his hair, tears streaming down his cheeks and without a clue as to what to do.

***

In the end, Harry had gone back to his car and cried for what felt like ages, but instead, it was just twenty minutes. He pulled himself together but was still shaking as he made his way back to the flat where Florence basically ripped open the door. Seeing his face told her everything she needed to know.

“She’ll be alright,” the woman muttered as she soothed Harry by rubbing a palm up and down his back, letting him hide his face in her shoulder. “It’s Y/N. She’d pull through an atomic bomb.”

They spent the rest of the night and the following day on the couch, glued to Harry’s phone waiting for any sort of updates. From time to time a text message came from the hospital letting them know what procedures were being done on Y/N, that her parents have been informed, and if necessary, they’d allowed Harry to be the main contact person because of his proximity to their daughter.

Three days later and the quarantine for the rest of the cast and crew ended, yet when they returned to the set, everyone was in low spirits. Especially, Harry – he was miserable. Every moment spent not reciting lines or acting was occupied with the thoughts of Y/N, how she was doing, was she improving, was she still breathing, how he wanted to just ditch everything and run to her, to help in whatever way he could.

“This sucks,” Florence grumbled, arms crossed over her chest as they took a break while re-setting already in for the fifth day of filming, eight since Y/N’d been in the hospital. “Can’t believe they won’t allow a phone in with her.”

“It’s the same policy for everyone, but trust me,” Harry sighed and looked up at the bright blue sunny sky above. “The number of times I got out of my bed in the middle of the night and had the car keys in hand is ridiculous. And the number of times I’ve thought about breaking into that hospital is even more concerning.”

Florence let out a small chuckle and nudged his shoulder. “I’d cover for you if you did. As long as she doesn’t have to be there alone.” She hung her head, blond strands falling down to curtain her face. “Can’t imagine how scared she must be.”

Harry just sighed. There really wasn’t anything he could say.

Something vibrated in his pocket, but he no longer furrowed his brows when unknown numbers called, knowing it was from the hospital. It was nerve-wracking though to pick up the call each time because he had to mentally prepare himself for the possibility of bad news, even though he always hoped for good ones.

“Yes, hi. Hello. I – oh,” he put a hand over his mouth and sagged down onto a chair. “Oh, thank god, thank you, doctor. Yeah. Yes, I’ll let her know, and someone will be there to open the flat. Thank you again. For everything.”

He took away the phone from his ear and stared at the ground for a minute before leaping up and hugging Florence, laughter escaping his mouth.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong, it’s the opposite. Y/N’s out of the hospital.”

“Oh thank god!” Her hands flew to hug him back.

“She’ll have to stay in self-isolation until the two negative tests and will be monitored by the doctors, but she’s out.”

Immediately he was dialling her, and Harry had never been as happy for the invention of a video call, because when he saw Y/N’s face light up the screen, as tired as she looked, it was the most beautiful sight that graced his eyes.

“Hey, lovie.” His voice was soft and low as if anything louder would worsen her state.

Her ‘hey’ was barely audible, but he heard it, and it made the weight of a boulder drop off his shoulders.

“I’m so – I mean we all are so happy you’re back home.”

Y/N smiled, shaking her head. “I’m happy too,” she whispered. “I missed you. Missed everyone, but most of all I missed you.”

Harry was happy they were separated by a screen because if she was anywhere in a five-mile radius, he was sure she would be able to hear his heart beat out of his ribcage at her words. “How are you feeling?”

“ ‘M alright,” Y/N tried to let him know. “Very tired.”

“Then get back to sleep, lovie.”

Y/N shook her head. “Wanna talk to you.”

“I’ll keep talking,” Harry promised. “Like we did before, okay.”

“Okay…”

And so, he did. He kept talking as Y/N listened, and he watched as her eyes slowly closed before she drifted off to sleep. Even though Harry had to go back to filming, he didn’t dare end the call. He’d never end the call.

***

It took a month and a half for Y/N to get those two consecutive negative tests, to feel somewhat human again and when she did, she probably garnered at least seven speeding tickets with how fast she was driving down to the set.

It was the most inconspicuous outfit she could scramble together, consisting of a hoodie and baseball cap, as she watched Harry as Jack lean down to peck the actress’s lips, then step into the vintage car and rev out in the driveway, while a dishevelled Florence started the scene from the side, eyes racking over Jack’s first wife, who was dressed the exact same way, hair styled like hers and even nails painted the same, her character putting all the puzzle pieces together.

“And cut!” Olivia yelled across the lot, nudging Y/N’s side and giving her a smirk. “He’s gonna freak. You’re all he’s been talking about on set. We almost had to put a ban on you as a topic,” she muttered that part so only the woman could hear while telling everyone to re-set, so they could do the scene from another angle, but not before asking the three actors to come and look at the monitors so they could understand how to move in order to keep the continuity.

Y/N moved to the side, ducking her head down as Harry, Florence and Mandy, the actress that took over her role, all leaned closer to watch the monitors. Y/N had to bite on her lip to keep the grin away, as all of them analysed their movements and the scene, nodding along to what Olivia was saying.

“Y/L/N, what do you think?” Olivia asked, grinning.

Y/N stepped forward a bit, seeing all of their shocked faces through her peripheral, as she pointed to the screen, lifting her head so that everyone could see her face fully. “I think it’s great, you might want to step to the side a bit more, Harry, when –” but she was unable to finish the sentence as he swooped her in his arms, lifting her basically off the ground, and burying his face in her neck.

“Watch the hair! Daniele will have a fit if you ruin her masterpiece!” Y/N laughed, holding one of her hands on the base of his neck, the other tightly wrapped around his shoulders, but he just shook his head, and she could feel tears splash her skin.

“Fuck the hair!” He let out a small chuckle, and she could hear the lump in his throat. “I’ve missed you so much. I was so scared.”

“Same,” Y/N whispered. “Missed you like crazy. And your stupid, unfunny dad jokes.”

“ ‘M hilarious, lovie, what are you talking about?”

He finally set her down but didn’t let go of her waist, and she smiled cupping his cheeks. “A true comedian, that’s what you are.”

“I know. Why’dya think I got that SNL slot?”

But his eyes, as he gazed into hers once more glassed over.

“Hey,” Y/N cooed wiping away the tears running down his cheeks. “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry, cause then I’ll cry, and we’re both gonna be crying messes, and then these guys will have to deal with that.”

Harry sighed, leaning into her touch. “Happy tears, lovie. All happy tears.”

The two looked at one another as if there was no one else in the universe. And for the two of them, there really wasn’t. Neither had to say what was on their minds, they already knew.

His face was inching closer to Y/N’s, and heart started to beat erratically, not that Harry minded, as his palm rested in the middle of her back. In fact, his own heart mimicked the rhythm, but it stuttered when someone behind him cleared their throat and interrupted their moment.

Y/N hid her face in Harry’s chest as he sighed at Olivia’s raised eyebrow.

“You’ll be able to smooch as much as you want, but we need him in hair and make-up.”

“Oli-“

“Now,” she let out a small laugh. “Before Daniele removes my head from my shoulders.”

“Go,” Y/N patted his side. “I’ll still be here.”

“Is that a threat?”

She grinned up at him. “A fucking promise.”

Harry dashed away like lightning, hoping that the quicker he was done, the sooner he could have Y/N back in his arms even if it was for a second, but her attention was taken by a woman with long blond curls, a flowing green slip on her figure; her steps unsure as was the wave she gave her, but Y/N’s heart melted at the sight of her.

“Hey, Flo,” she whispered and brought the girl in a bone-crushing hug, holding onto her, trying to convey how much she regretted her words and actions, especially because they were unwarranted.

“I’m so sorry,” Y/N said, and she nodded.

“Me too.”

Y/N shook her head. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry about. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“And I should’ve made sure Harry pulled his head out of his ass.”

That made both of them laugh, and it was nice to do it not only without having to cough up her insides, but to do it with someone she’d connected with and had become great friends with.

“He did that. I just hope if he wants to make another move, it won’t take me dying to push him to.”

Florence pointed at her, a serious look on her face. “I’ll kill him with my bare hands if he does.”

A small noise of someone clearing their throat from behind Y/N took both of their attentions for them to go onto the actress who’d been cast as her replacement, the woman coming forward and extending her hand for a handshake with a nervous smile. “Hi. I’m Mandy.”

“ ‘S very nice to meet you.” Y/N tried to give off as open and accepting of a vibe as much as possible, because she genuinely wanted Mandy to feel respected and that she wasn’t a threat. “Before you think anything if you’re worried about me taking the role, don’t. It’s all yours, so don’t worry about that. I just stopped by ‘cause I hadn’t seen anyone in almost two months. Never thought I’d say this, but fuck did I missed people.”

Mandy shook her head, her smile a lot lighter and brighter now. “I – uh thank you for that actually. I’m a huge fan of yours, and well, can only try and live up to what you would’ve portrayed.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll absolutely kill it, and I can’t wait for the movie.”

It was great to see Mandy’s shoulders drop in relief. “Would it be too much if I asked for advice on the role?”

“No,” Y/N laughed. “But I would say that you should make this role your own. It is yours. You are Larie now. And Harry’s Jack. Make it yours.”

As she said that, she turned to watch Harry who was practically bouncing on his feet, green eyes flitting back to where she was standing, and when their gazes met, neither could help the smiles blooming on their faces.

“You know he messed up a scene once and said your name?”

Y/N’s brows furrowed as she looked over at Mandy. “What do you mean ‘said my name’?”

“It was a kissing scene. The wedding bit, actually. As Jack and Larie recited their vows, and he leans down to kiss her, he was supposed to say, ‘I’ll love you Larie, until the very end’. He said your name instead.”

That hit Y/N more than a semi-truck wheeling a ton of bricks would. Yes, she knew Harry liked her, and he knew she liked him, but love was a big word, and for him to admit that, whether it was a flub or not, was even bigger.

Harry was a private person. While he openly talked about what he felt, he guarded heart at the same time, much like Y/N did. But she had to wait until Olivia yelled cut for the day, and had to watch him make a mad dash for hair and make-up before running to the dressing trailer as he didn’t want to miss out on a second he could spend with her. Even as they walked up to their shared flat and he opened the door, his fingers stayed intertwined with hers.

“How does it feel to be back?”

“Kinda shitty, honestly,” Y/N laughed throwing the keys to the table and shrugging out of the jacket and taking off the cap, Harry immediately helping her and putting it on one of the racks. “I’ll have to move out, now that I’m not part of the movie.”

“Why? ‘S not like the production is paying our rent, we’re doing it out of our own pocket.”

“Yes, but now that I don’t have a job, I kinda need to look for one.”

“And what says that you can’t live here while you do that?”

“I –,” Y/N’s brows furrowed. “I mean nothing, really… I just… kinda thought because I’m not part of the movie anymore it’d be safer if I found my own place. But um… I think I have something else I’d like to talk about. Mandy,” Y/N dragged out her name a bit, a sly smirk appearing on her face, “told me you had a flub on set.”

Harry’s heart was pounding underneath her palm where she’d grabbed onto the lapels of his dress shirt, so he couldn’t run away.

“I’ve uh,” he let out a nervous laugh. “I’ve had a couple of flubs on set. Who hasn’t?”

“I don’t doubt that. But she said you misspoke a name.”

She made him look into her eyes and wouldn’t dare let their gaze break. “You said my name during the wedding scene. You said Y/N. Not Larie.”

Harry looked like a cross between a deer in headlights and a fish out of the water, eyes wide with his mouth opening and closing, no sound coming out, which made Y/N worry a bit.

She placed a palm against his cheek. “Harry? You alright?”

“I – I meant it.” He let out a deep sigh and leaned down to press his forehead to hers. “And when I thought back on it, I don’t remember seeing her face or Larie’s face. It was yours. And the lips I was kissing belonged to you too. I was holding your hand, and you were holding mine. And I know it’s way too quick, for a wedding -”

“Unless you threaten me with it –”

“I –,” Harry stuttered before laughing, all tension evaporating from his body. “No, that I don’t want to be a threat. That will be a question asked with love and hopefully an answer given to it the same way.”

Y/N nudged his nose with hers. “Well, we’ll see. I mean if you don’t kiss me what makes you th–,”

But she didn’t get a chance to finish the sentence before his lips were on hers, pressing with such gentleness, it made her weak at the knees, and she would’ve crumbled if Harry’s arms handn’t woven around her middle, fingers pressing into the sides, the pressure increasing with each second their mouths were connected.

Harry’s hand drifted up Y/N’s back and settled on her neck as if he could pull her any closer, her own palms slipping over his stomach, pecks and grabbing onto his jaw, fingers lightly scratching at the stubble that’d grown throughout the day. He had to shave every morning for the role of Jack, but each evening she’d see a small, darkened shadow across his skin, and Y/N would be lying that when she’d realised her attraction to him, she hadn’t thought about how delicious it would feel to have it leave small burn marks on the inside of her thighs.

Unconsciously, she clenched her thighs, trying to create some sort of friction which became more and more unbearable as she felt Harry moan into her mouth, tongue sweeping against her lower lip, asking for permission without words, which Y/N granted without a second to spare.

It was heavenly to have him so close to her. She did wonder if the sensation was intensified by the fact, she hadn’t been able to touch anyone properly for almost two months, but that thought vanished when his fingers skimmed underneath her hoodie, brushing against her heated skin. No. It was because it was Harry.

“I –,” he was breathless as he pulled away, but Y/N didn’t let him get too far, her lips attaching themselves to his neck, making him groan in pleasure. “I don’t want to push this too far.”

Her brows scrunched up, as she took a look at him. “What do you mean? If you think I don’t want this, then let me be perfectly clear – I do. A lot.”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m so fucking glad you do, but… Y/N you just got out of the hospital, where you were on a ventilator. I don’t want to make anything worse.”

“Not your choice to make.” A devious smile appeared on her face, as she stepped a few feet away and lifted her hoodie over her head, making Harry inhale sharply. “So here are your two options.” Her hands went behind her back, unclasping her bra and letting it slowly drop to the floor, the green eyes that hadn’t left her now wide as saucers. “Number one.” She toed off her boots and popped open the button of her jeans. “We can stop this, obviously, just say the word, and I get to my room, start packing and looking for a new place. We can have some dinner and just chill. Or number two.” Y/N hooked her jeans behind her thumbs and slowly dragged them down her legs, revealing more and more of herself to Harry. “We can go inside your room and make up for the lost time. In every position imaginable, for as long as you want. But.” Y/N’s eyes glimmered with mischief as she made her way to Harry’s room. “I don’t think you wanna take the first option.”

Harry ran a hand through his hair, turning it from the meticulously gelled hairstyle into a mop of messy strands. “You know you’re making it really hard for me to be a gentleman.”

Y/N swayed her hips a bit more as she took another step closer to his room, the door meeting her back, and one of her hands went to the doorknob, pressing down on it. “Well, a gentleman doesn’t kiss before the first date, and definitely not like that.”

He stood there, hands on his hips, eyes not leaving her body, as she cocked her head. “So, what’s it gonna be?”

They were ten torturous seconds for both, hearts beating out of their chests, but it only took three steps for Harry to cross the hallway, his hand sneaking behind Y/N’s back and pressing down on the doorknob as well, revealing the inside of his room. It was messy, much like her own, but it wouldn’t take too much to rip all off the tossed around bedding leaving a whole bed to themselves.

“You. Are. The. Devil.”

Her smile was nothing short of wicked. “I mean you can listen to the angel on your shoulder.”

“I’d rather listen to you.”

Together they stepped inside, and Y/N nodded. “Making good choices already.”

“Can’t get on your bad side, can I now?”

“I mean you can.” Her legs hit the back of his bed and she fell down on it, Harry leaning over, resting his elbows next to her head. “But bad boys get punished.”

His nose skimmed over hers. Now he was the one smiling like a devil. “I’ll hold you to your word. For future reference, that is.”

That kiss was nothing like their first. This was messy, and passionate, all tongue and teeth, hands grabbing everywhere possible to get the other unclothed. Or at least that’s what Y/N was trying to do, seeing as she was pretty much naked already, and Harry was the one still wearing too much.

Her hands pretty much ripped open the shirt. It one of his expensive Gucci ones, she was quite certain of it, but it didn’t seem like he cared, as he shrugged it off, throwing it to land somewhere on the floor.

Y/N sighed into his mouth as her hands were now freely allowed to run over his chest, over the ink embedded into his skin, over taut muscles that relaxed under her touch, and dig into his sides in an attempt to leave her own marks on him, much like he was going to do to her.

“Think you can take your pants off? It’s only fair.” Y/N muttered into his mouth and his own travelled down to her cheek, then neck and to her chest.

“You mean my trousers?”

Her lips quirked up and she shrugged her shoulders. “No, in this case, I meant pants the British way.”

“And if I’m going commando?”

Y/N pressed her hand against his chest and pushed him away from her. “You had nothing underneath all day on set?”

“No! I wouldn’t subject the dressing department to that. But underneath this.” He looked down at his jeans and smiled at her. “I do have nothing.”

“Well then? Get on with it!”

Both of them were giggling, as Y/N tried to unbuckle Harry’s belt, his own fingers mixing with hers as he went for the zipper and the button. He nudged his head towards her. “Your socks and pants come off as well. Or we’ll be unevenly matched.”

Y/N lifted her eyebrow, as she went for her own remaining pieces of clothing. “No socks during sex?”

“No, what kind of a weirdo do you think I am?”

“And if my feet get cold?” She threw them away somewhere.

“We have a blanket.”

As Harry removed his jeans and his own socks, Y/N slipped off the dampened piece of clothing that’d been on her, now both of them completely naked.

“Alright.” He leaned over her again, her arms wrapping around his shoulders and pulling them chest to chest. “Happy now?”

Y/N deeply kissed him. “Very. But I think we can make each other even happier.”

“Agreed,” Harry hummed. “Wanna get a taste first.” He attached his lips to her collarbones sucking a bruise there. “Can I?”

She groaned at the feeling, knowing there be a pleasant ache that accompanied mark. “You can. Don’t have to, if you don’t want. No need to do this for me.”

“And if it’s for me?” Harry was moving lower and lower with each word, wet tongue flicking against a perked bud, and making Y/N gasp. “What if I wanna feel you cum on my tongue, and what if I wanna do something I’ve dreamed about for months now?”

His hands were kneading her breasts, mouth having left a trail of kisses down the middle of her stomach as it was moving towards where an ache that’d been left untreated made itself more and more prominent.

“Then please, please, please do something, Harry.”

“With pleasure.”

Luckily for Y/N, she didn’t have to beg any more, as his mouth attached itself to where she wanted him most, tongue sweeping past her lower lips and licking up a broad, steady stripe.

One of her hands went to fist into her hair and the other into Harry’s. “Shit,” she moaned. “Fuck, that feels good.”

“Guide me.” He licked a circle around her clit. “Tell me how you like it.”

“Mhgm, fuck, okay,” Y/N breathed out. “I – I mean you’re doing great on your own.” Her chest was heaving as if she was running a marathon, and Harry shifted her legs so that they lay over his shoulders. “But umm, like if you lick around my clit, but like really press down li – oh, fuuuuck, just like that.”

The coil in her stomach tightened with each pass he did, just like Y/N had instructed, small tight circles just how she did with her fingers, only what took her sometimes half an hour, Harry managed to do in less than ten minutes, to have her toes curling and hands grasping anywhere they could find purchase to just keep onto something real.

The vibrations from Harry humming sent shivers straight to her core. “What else, lovie? What else, do you like?”

“If – if –,” Y/N panted, “if you suck on it, but like – fuck – shit! If you kinda keep a seal around my clit, that fuck! Yes!”

The way Harry was eating her out was almost sensational, but what made it even better wasn’t that he just decided to do something and assumed, she’d like it, he asked, he wanted to learn and discover what made her tick and turn, or in this case – cum.

“Harry, ‘m close,” Y/N warned him, feeling the warmth slowly start to spread all throughout her body.

“I’ll get you there.”

He let his lips go for a moment before slipping two of his fingers so that they pinched her clit and moved them slowly but tightly up and down it, while his tongue went to slip inside her hole, and that did it for her.

With a gasp of air, Y/N’s eyes rolled to be back of her head, hips lifting up as euphoria exploded through her veins. Her mind went completely dizzy, and she was quite sure some drool also dribbled down the side of her mouth because she’d lost all ability to function.

“ -o me, love,” Y/N heard as if through a fog, and then felt two soothing palms running up and down her legs. “Come back, love. There you go.”

A drunken smile bloomed on her face, and she ran a hand down it, the same hand that’d grabbed Harry’s hair like a vice. “Fuck. You’re good, you know what you’re doing.”

“Well, I’m certainly glad you enjoyed yourself because I thoroughly enjoyed myself.”

She watched as he straightened out to sit on his knees, her legs still over his shoulders, cock slapping against his stomach, and when she looked down there was a wet patch on his side of the sheets, a sly grin morphing on her face. “You liked eating me out so much you came yourself?”

“What can I say – bringing pleasure, gives me pleasure. And your cunt’s probably the sweetest I’ve ever eaten. But… do you think you’re ready for me?” Harry asked, kissing the inside of Y/N’s thighs and watching as she vigorously nodded her head, but he just smirked. “I think I need to test it out. Just to make sure.”

“Harry,” Y/N whined as she felt his fingers skim the apex of her thighs, teasing her.

“Don’t wanna hurt you.”

With that, he used one of his hands to open up her lips, his thumb pressing down on her already sensitive clit, eliciting a gasp before he allowed two fingers to skim her entrance and then slipped in.

“Still so tight,” he said, watching as Y/N sighed and her mouth fell open, his fingers curling in a come-hither motion. “Told you needed to check if you were ready. What kind of a gentleman would I be now, if I didn’t make sure you could take it?”

Y/N gritted her teeth. “I can take you.”

“Don’t doubt it.” Harry left kisses along her leg, as he continued on with his movements, noting how her hips slowly started to grind down on his palm, so he pushed his fingers in deeper so that the heel of his hand could rest against her clit, making the pleasure intensify. “But I’d never forgive myself if I hurt you when all I wanna do is give you pleasure. And you weren’t stretched out enough. Not yet at least.”

“Oh, god, Harry,” Y/N groaned, one arm thrown over her eyes as his fingers hit just the right spot.

“That’s it? Right there?”

“Yes, right there,” she moaned. “Just. Fuck! Just don’t stop, please, don’t stop.”

“Gonna cum again?”

“Yes, just – just curl your fingers and twist them a bit more.”

And much like the first time, a couple more times was all it took. Her orgasm was even more powerful than the previous and fully knocked her breath out of her lungs. Her legs fell open around his shoulders, stomach and chest spasming from the intensity.

Gentle fingers skimmed up and down Y/N’s arms and featherlight kisses fluttered over her breasts, then chest, neck and finally were peppered across her cheeks.

“Kinda spaced out on me there. You alright? Not too much?”

“ ’M – I’m good. But I’m pretty sure you’ve killed me.”

Harry chuckled, and Y/N leaned her head to the side so she could press a kiss against the closest of the swallow tattoos. “Hopefully not. I still wanna take you out on that date.”

Her eyes landed on Harry’s left hand’s ring finger, where a golden band still laid.

“Oh, yeah.” He lifted the digits, still covered in her cum before pushing them past his lips and licking them clean. “Forgot to remove it. Hope the prop guys don’t kill me.”

She hated how his eyes sparkled, absolutely knowing what that sight did to her, how it made her stomach flutter and heart thunder against her ribs. Y/N was sure with the force it was pounding, they’d crack.

“Well, if they don’t, I will.” She pulled him down, nails raking on his skin, dragging to rest on his ass as they bit into it. “Now get inside me.”

“Condom.”

“No, ‘m on the pill.”

“I’m clean, I swear, but it’s still not a hundred per cent safe.”

Y/N shook her head. “I’ll buy the morning-after pill. Just need you inside.”

“You sure?” Harry placed a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Yeah. I mean I’m clean, and uh… I just wanna feel you.”

He’d cum once already, and Harry would be dammed if he did it again before having the chance to know how heaven feels like. As gently as possible, he took himself, giving a few strokes before nudging the tip against Y/N’s clit, her sharp inhale stalling him until she nodded.

Her nails dug into his biceps, as he finally slipped inside her, making both of them moan at the feeling. Even with all of the stretching out he’d done with his fingers, and the two orgasms he’d drawn from her, the slickness helping everything to be easy and smooth, Y/N still felt a little sting.

Harry’s head dropped to Y/N’s shoulders and even from under him, she could feel his thighs and stomach shaking, as he tried to hold his composure and give her a little bit of time to adjust.

A couple of deep breaths later, she tapped his ribs. “You can move now.”

“ ‘ya sure?”

“Mhm,” Y/N nodded her head and pecked his lips reassuringly. “Please.”

His dishevelled and sweaty hair shook as he nodded and slowly drew back his hips so that just the tip of his cock remained in her before gliding back inside. The sight alone was more than enough to make both of them explode, but they wanted to last longer than thirty seconds, especially for their first time together. There’d be quickies for later, now they wanted to have a proper shag.

Bit by bit, Harry’s pace quickened, pearls of sweat gliding down his skin and dampening the sheets below them, much like it was with Y/N. Her leg slid up to rest around his hips, giving him a better angle and more leverage for him to strike the right spot, as he pushed her knee to rest against her chest, Y/N’s head falling back to the pillow.

Her insides were shaking from the pleasure, and it was like an invisible force was pushing down on her chest, as she struggled for a proper breath. “Harry,” she dragged out his name, the word turning into a high-pitched whine.

“I know,” he responded in the same breathless voice. He could feel her tighten around him and wasn’t sure just how much longer he’d be able to keep up the pace. “Touch yourself ‘f me, lovie. C’mon, use those fingers.”

Y/N did as she was told. It didn’t give her that butterfly feeling like it’d happened when they’d been Harry’s, but it did make her cum faster, and the sensation of her gushing around his cock made him lose all self-control and he spilled inside.

It wasn’t enough for Y/N, but she guessed she needed to settle for it. She knew that nothing really ever touched in the universe, that the closest atoms ever come to touching one another is when their wave packets overlap, much like she and Harry were now overlapping, his body lying on top of hers, skin sweaty and frame trembling as he came down from his own high.

“I uh,” Y/N cleared her throat, finger tracing the outline of one of the butterfly in the middle of Harry’s chest. “When the people came to get my stuff, I umm, asked them to take your rainbow cardigan. Wanted something that smelled like you, so I didn’t feel so alone. Was the first thing I put on when I got out of my hospital gown.”

She felt his body rumble with laughter and a kiss being pressed to her forehead. “I know. Saw Anna stash it inside the suitcase. I uh, I was the one who also put in one of my sweaters. Know how cold you always get.”

She hid her smile against his collarbones. “Thank you. For thinking of me.”

“ 'M always thinking of you… Will you knit me one though?”

Y/N raised her eyebrow. “Knit you one?”

“Yes. I know you knit –“

“Everyone knits nowadays.”

Harry drew himself back a bit, and she pushed away the matted down strands from his forehead, wiping away the sweat from underneath his green eyes as well. “Yes, but the point is – there’ll be a million other Gucci shirts and sweaters and cardigans. But I’d like to have one-of-a-kind made by you. So, I have something to sleep next to when you’re not next to me.”

Y/N ran a finger along his jawline, biting away her grin. “It’ll probably have mistakes. I’m not that good at it. ‘M not a professional.”

“Exactly.” Harry tilted her head up with a finger and their eyes met. “Which is why it’ll be perfect.”

“The arms will most likely be different lengths in the end.”

“Don’t worry, darling.” He pecked her lips before hugging her and not letting go. “It’s flawless for me.”

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15 @breezykpop @girlboss99 @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist @alliyjane @sirtommyholland

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue @im-squished

A/N: My tags are always open :)

P.S. please don’t repost my work without specific written permission onto other platforms :)

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ghoste-catte · 3 years

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I was curious what advice would you give to someone new to writing fics? I've been wanting to get back into it but haven't seriously written something since high school. I hope this isn't an annoying question or anything!

Not an annoying question at all! I'm just a little worried that I won't have terribly good or useful advice. To be honest, I also sort of stopped writing in earnest right as I finished high school, and didn't pick it back up until my late 20s. It's certainly an adjustment! But I think the few things that really helped me get back into writing fic as a hobby and something I spend quite a bit of time on would be:

Write for yourself first, then find your other motivations. My original inspiration in getting back into fic writing was that there just were not that many fics I liked for my favorite pairing, and I wanted more of them, and I especially wanted more with the tropes and characterizations I wanted to see. I think at the very core of anything you need that internal spark that drives you. At the same time, for me at least, if I just relied on my own drive, I would not get much done; I need some external guardrails. So having people send prompts, or writing for particular events, or writing stuff for friends really helps me to get my ass in gear and finish stuff. That may not be the perfect motivator for you, and that's fine! You just gotta figure out what is.

Be open to inspiration. Anything and everything can be spun out into a story with the right tweaking. Obviously stuff like music is a classic inspiration source, but I've also pulled ideas from poetry, from memes, from Reddit threads, from YouTube videos, from rambling conversations on Discord and from real life to make fics out of. So many times, someone will post a silly Twitter screencap, and I'll think, There's a fic in this. And a lot of the time, there is! Research is a wonderful thing, but so is serendipity. If you're out there actively looking for ideas, eventually one that you like will stumble past you.

Find your community. I can genuinely say I never would have finished more than one fic if I didn't have fandom friends to talk to about even stupid headcanons, to bounce ideas off of, and to encourage me (and to encourage them in turn!). Discord has been a godsend, and some of my closest online friends are people I met in the GaaLee discord server. As I've gotten more comfortable as a writer, I've also joined general writing servers and Reddit communities and have found them immensely helpful on both a motivational level (bingos, sprints, owe-me challenges) and on a craft level (plot workshopping and writing ethics and live grammar help). It's a lot easier to think about fic ideas and hash through problem moments when I have a constant stream of fandom-related chatter coming from the little people who live in my phone! Ao3 is an amazing website, and it's great as, well, an archive, but it isn't social media by design. If you want conversation and human connection and cheerleading, you've gotta forge out and find it.

Make it a habit ... If you want to produce anything longer than a couple hundred words, you really have to set aside time for it. And writing is just like knitting or dirt biking or painting little model figurines: the more you do it, the more easily it comes. When I was first getting back into the proper swing of things, I committed myself to 30 minutes of writing per week. Just 30 minutes. I didn't even hit that goal every week, but there were tons of weeks I got on a roll and went over that amount, and by the end of the year I'd written over 200,000 words. I used to spend an hour laboriously tip-tapping out 200 words, but now I can easily blow through 1k in a 50 minute sprint. It's all about training that muscle.

... But don't make it a chore. With fanfic, you aren't doing this as a job, and you aren't ultimately doing it for anyone other than you. That means you can take breaks when you need them, you can set deadlines and then fail to meet them, you can write stuff and then decide to never post it. When you start getting burnt out, when the practice loses the joy and energy, stop. There's no 'hustle' here. In our capitalist society we're so trained to push past our limits and keep going even when it hurts us, but the hobby you do for connection and relaxation and whatever else shouldn't be like that.

Ignore metrics. Sometimes stuff isn't gonna get hits, or kudos, or comments. There are some basic 'rules' as to the stuff that does and doesn't get traction, but every time you post something it's a roll of the dice. If you're focused on watching that kudos counter tick up, you will get bummed out fast. And any writer will tell you that the stuff you think is your best work will never be the stuff that gets the most accolades. So you have to find something else to give you a sense of success. For me, it's watching my wordcount go up in my stats and those occasional comments where someone has a lot to say and that one person who always leaves me a <3 emoji (and, shout out to @egregiousderp, having someone to have long one-on-one conversations with about the stuff that never made it to page).

Don't strive for perfection. It's really easy to want your first ever fic to be a complete showstopper, the best fic fandom has ever seen, hitting all the tropes and the ideas and the characterization that you just know fandom is missing and would be everyone's top favorite if only it was written. This is a trap. No one fic can be all things. Most people who want to write an epic as their very first venture will not see the end of that epic, because they haven't put in the practice hours to make something on that scale work. That's not to say you can't start out with a big, sprawling multichap, just don't expect it to be the greatest thing since sliced bread if you're just starting out, and be okay with abandoning it for greener pastures if you get to that point. Think of the first time someone makes a vase out of clay or bakes a loaf of bread. That's never their best vase or their best bread. If they keep up with it, they'll make more and better vases and loaves. Likewise, your first fic is probably not gonna be your best fic. See it for what it is: your launchpad.

You can't edit an empty page, but you can over-edit a full one. This kind of spins off of #7, but if the words aren't there, you can't fix them. Daydreams and headcanons are fantastic (and god, how many times have I wished for a speech-to-text engine that projected my falling asleep thoughts onto a Google doc for later perusal), but they aren't fic. If you want to write fic, you've gotta get comfortable with the idea of sloppy outlines and rough first drafts. You can't build a house without a frame and you can't build a man without a skeleton (I mean, you can, I guess, but he'd be one floppy man). The nice thing about fic is that it doesn't matter if that frame is structurally unsound or the skeleton has 18 too many bones, you can clean that up in the editing process. But you can't start hanging curtains and arranging furniture in something that doesn't even have walls. That's the process. But! Also know when to set down the editor's pen and say, "Okay, this is good enough for government work", and call it done. ("Done" doesn't have to mean "posted", but it does mean, "I'm done picking at this for now, and I'm gonna go write some more stuff".) Over-editing can make stuff seem laborious and forced, and it prevents you from actually improving. To continue belaboring the house metaphor, you can spend your whole life rearranging furniture in just one room, but the end result of that is a pretty narrow existence and a room with a lot of footprints and tracks in the carpet.

Write shit down. When you have ideas, jot them down--in a notebook, in a Google Doc, in the Notes app of your phone, in pen on the back of your hand. You think you will remember that brilliant line of dialogue or sparkling snippet of narration or genius plot that came to you in a dream, but you Will Not. Write it down. Write it down. Write it down! There have been so many times when a fic was completely saved by past!me having written down my shower thoughts about what happens next in the fic, that present!me had completely forgotten about and was floundering over.

Have fun with it! Try different stuff. Try stupid stuff. Try experimental stuff. Do stuff you've never done before that you aren't sure will work. It's important to get comfortable with your niche (for example, I know I'm never going to be the sort of person who writes intricate plots of intrigue or super long 100k epics or detailed battles), but you can't find that niche unless you explore lots of different niches! Figure out what you love and what you absolutely hate, and then keep doing the stuff you love.

Okay, so that was actually TEN things, but ... I hope you still found this helpful. Feel free to send another ask if any of this was confusing or unclear. Good luck with your fic writing and, if you want, send me a link to what you've written once you've written it! I'd love to read it.

#answered #anonymous #writing advice #i guess?#am i qualified to give this?#no #but im doing it anyway

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sirthisisa-wendys · 3 years

Note

Can I ask something like: reader being engaged to someone of the Zen'in clan (not willingly) and discovering that she is pregnant with Getou's child, which she's having a secret relationship. So this would lead to a huge conflict. Feel free to add smut or change anything if you don't feel confortable writing it! Thanks for your work. Lots of love <3<3<3

SOLD TO THE HIGHEST BIDDER (who happens to be me)

Arrangements: Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

wc: 1.9k

tw: nsfw, angst, mentions of abuse

The priceless china teacup - the only one of its kind in the set of four - drops from your hand and to the dining room floor, where it shatters into a million pieces.

"No."

Your father looks at you with concern, as if you had just spoken some foreign language.

"No," you repeat, this time with much more emphasis. Didn't he understand the meaning of the word? Or was "no" not a part of his vocabulary?

"Unfortunately, you don't have a choice, y/n. You and Naoya have been paired together since birth, and it's now time for you to--"

"I said no!" You stand from the table and walk past your father to exit the dining room, pushing the door open with fury. As you stalk away from the arranged marriage to a Zen'in and your father, you feel tears well up in your eyes.

You scrub them away as you push past your bodyguard and into your room, where you lock the door. But the tears come faster than you expect, and you can't help but weep. It isn't until the sun goes down that you stand from your seated position and move to your desk, where the picture of you and your best friend sits, his black eyes glaring at the camera as you pinch his cheeks, smiling at him with glee. You were only five then, but if you knew then what would happen to you fifteen years later, you would have begged to run away with him much sooner.

The 'plink' of a pebble smashing into your window calls you out of your daydream, and you place the picture back down before moving to open your windowpane.

"You really could just knock," you advise Suguru Geto, who stands at your window with a silly grin on his face. "It'd be a lot less annoying."

"But what's the fun in that?" he wonders, climbing inside easily. "Plus, it gives me an excuse to find pebbles around the grounds. You know how I like rocks." You roll your eyes as he leans in, placing a deep kiss on your lips and wrapping his arms around your waist. "Mmm," Suguru hums. "You've been crying. What's new?"

"Nothing," you lie, but he tilts your chin up, examining your face.

"Looks like you've been crying for a while... Did your father say something to you at tea time?" You hold in a sob, lips quivering. "Perhaps a spat over something he sees as trivial, per usual?"

"Stop," you beg, pushing his hand away. "I don't want to talk about it."

Suguru steps back, rifling around in his pockets for something. When he produces the black stone, he hands it to you, letting your fingers drift over the polished texture as you consider opening up to the only man you love. "Here's one of my worry stones. You can rub at it and it'll take the negative feelings away."

You hold it in your hand, making a note to save it with the other pretty things Suguru has given you over the years in the box under your bed. You sit on your bed and he follows suit, laying beside you and sighing.

"Have you ever thought about running away?" you wonder, and Geto bites his lower lip thoughtfully.

"Sometimes. But then I remember that I can't run away from all of my problems, and I'd be leaving you behind."

"Maybe we should run away together." At your proposal, Geto puts his hands underneath his head, staring at the spinning fan.

"I can't condone that. You'd be running away from your problems, y/n."

"And? What does it matter if I only have you? Is that enough?"

"It matters a lot," Suguru mumbles, and you sigh. "I can't ask you to give up your life for one of hardship. I've been working on saving a bit of money, though. When I get enough, I'll buy a ring, come to your dad, and ask him for permission to marry you. Just wait a little while."

"We don't have a little while," you blurt, and he frowns. "My father wants to marry me off to some Zen'in, and--"

"What?" Suguru sits up, black hair falling down his back. "Say that again."

"My father wants to marry me off to some Zen'in," you repeat, and Suguru's eyes widen immensely before squinting.

"No, no, no... that can't be right," he breathes, and you shake your head.

"That's why I've been crying." Shock gives way to a blank look and he stands, running a hand through his hair.

"I have to go."

"Wait!" you cry out, but Suguru is out of your window in a flash, walking across your lawn without turning back.

_____________________________________________________________

The look Naoya Zen'in gives you is revolting.

When he strides into the room, your insides melt to nothingness and apprehension takes over. He circles you like prey, smiling at your shape and making lewd comments about your child-rearing abilities.

"Looks like you have a set of hips that are perfect for---"

"Naoya," your father chides, and the man slides his eyes to your father's face.

"Right, well..." the man clears his throat. "I would like to see what she's like by herself if you don't mind." Your father gives you a look that says 'behave' and you plead with him in your head to remain in the room. But he leaves you two alone, and that's when Naoya's face drops its smirk.

"Alright, let's be frank with each other." He leans forward on the table between you, lacing his fingers together. "I'm not in the business of making you feel good about yourself. You have to do that on your own. I'm going to tell you what I need when I need it. If you can't provide it, then you should seriously consider emptying that little head of yours of the idea that I won't remind you of your place."

You recoil at his words, lips curling up in disgust.

"And don't even think about replying with some smart-ass remark. I'm not the Chief of Hei for nothing." Bile rises up in your mouth at the thought of this swine being your betrothed, but you force it down, swallowing hard.

"I understand."

"Good. Now, let me see you turn around and walk out. I want to watch your hips as you walk away."

_____________________________________________________________

You rush into your bathroom and lean over the toilet, all of your consumed food coming back up. You vomit until nothing is left in your stomach, and dry heave for the rest of the time you're perched at the toilet bowl.

When it's all said and done, you wipe your mouth and flush, face redder than it was before you started feeling ill.

'Plink'.

Your head swivels to the window, and you rush to open it, coming face-to-face with Suguru.

"Babe..." he whispers, face flushed. "I brought you something." When he comes inside and sits on your bed, you consider telling him about the encounter with Naoya, but when he opens a small box, you're stopped in your tracks.

"Su!" You eye the small moonstone ring with curiosity, a smile creeping across your face. "Su, this is gorgeous."

"Solid rose gold and moonstone; your favorite." You slide the ring onto your ring finger and hold it up to the light.

"I love it... I love you." Suguru stands and brings you close to him, holding onto your head carefully.

"I'm going to take it to your father right now and--"

"I really wouldn't recommend you do that," a voice calls out from your doorway and both of you pull apart, startled by Naoya's sudden presence. "I had a feeling you'd be otherwise occupied." Naoya closes the door as he enters, smirking. "I should tell Mr. L/N myself that I've discovered this little tryst, but I think I'll let this poor man off the hook just this once." He turns to Suguru and gives him a deadly glare, crossing the space between them. "Leave. Don't come back here. I don't care how you feel or what you've done. But she's my property now, and no one other than me touches my things." Geto bristles at the threat, eye twitching.

"Make me, you piece of dogshit."

It's apparent that Naoya isn't quick to anger, but his fists clench in defiance. "I see," he breathes, letting go of his fists and running a hair through his light-colored hair. "You'll regret those words." And he leaves you two in the room, closing the door behind him carefully.

_____________________________________________________________

You stare at the little bump protruding from your belly in disbelief, fingers quivering over the skin. You try to recall the last time you and Suguru had unprotected sex and realize it was over a month ago, right before Naoya had appeared in your life.

The heavy onyx ring sits on your finger, reminding you of your engagement and the despicable man who had chased your lover away on that dreadful night.

Footsteps approach your room, and you quickly dress in your loose-fitting cotton shift dress, concealing any signs of pregnancy. Naoya throws open your doors and strides in, eyes looking about the room. "I have a little surprise for you, doll," he smiles, holding his hand out for you to take. Without hesitation, you grip it, knowing any delay could mean a swift backhand or a bruised wrist. "You'll enjoy this. I think I'll consider it my wedding present to you."

Naoya half-drags, half-walks you to the courtyard, where many of the townspeople have gathered, their faces somber and uneasy.

And chained to a post at the front is Suguru, his shirt torn and scrapes dragging across his skin.

"Just in time," Naoya chirps, pushing through the crowd and making you stand at the front, where Suguru could see you. His eyes widen, and he mouths something to you, but you shake your head, hands trembling.

"This man has been accused of stealing from the town's jeweler," Naoya calls out, circling around Suguru carefully. "And in his possession, we found a valuable piece of evidence." The accuser holds up a moonstone ring - your moonstone ring - showing it to the crowd proudly. "The punishment for theft is usually loss of a hand. But I feel that he should be delivered a much less barbaric punishment." Your heart leaps out of your chest, and you bite your tongue to keep from crying out.

Nothing Naoya would do would be less than barbaric.

"Fifty lashes are appropriate for the crime," he announces, and a man comes out of the crowd with a whip, standing behind Suguru with authority. Your eyes sting with tears, and you try your best to hold in a scream when the first lash lands across Suguru's back.

His black eyes are trained on you for the first fifteen strikes, but when the sixteenth lash rings out in the crowd, they begin to roll back, and he cries out in pain, voice echoing across the courtyard. Naoya sidles up beside you, gripping your wrist.

"See what happens when you sleep around with thieves?" he hisses, and you begin to weep, your vision blurring with tears. He chuckles and you hide your face behind your hands, sobbing furiously.

By the fortieth lash, you're all cried out, and Suguru's lost consciousness. His eyes are closed and his head lolls forward, hair drooping across his face. And when the man finishes, Suguru is left on the post, his blood and sweat mixing together across his back. You can hear ragged breathing after a minute of waiting, and Naoya goes up to Suguru's body, pulling his head back by his hair.

"Learned not to mess with my things?" he grins, and Suguru drags himself from the edge of consciousness to whisper,

"For y/n? I'd do it all over again."

The look of pure, unadulterated shock on Naoya's face is enough to haunt you every day afterward.

#jjk getou #getou suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen geto #getou x reader #geto x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #naoya zenin

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theoreticslut · 3 years

Text

The Start of Something New // s.r.

spencer reid x reader

requested: nope! the first of seven (!!!) fics for my 2k writing challenge event!! I used the prompts “weddings” & “did you need something?”

summary: A wedding for a mutual friend might just be the start of something new for you.

word count: 2k

warnings: weddings, fluff

A/N: I LOVED writing this one so much! I’m kind of thinking about writing a second part to it, but i’m not sure yet. I’ve got a handful of other fics I’d rather get out beforehand. But if you want one, definitely let me know! I’d love to write more for spencer and I think it’d be really cute to show the progression of their relationship. Anyways, I hope you like this! & if you’d like to join the challenge, you can join up until this sunday!

“Oh wow, she looks gorgeous.” You whisper to Penelope, smiling when you catch sight of JJ’s smile.

She looks beyond happy to be marrying Will, and you couldn’t be happier for her. After what she’s been through, she deserves every moment of this.

“She does.” Penelope quietly coos, emotion overtaking her voice as she watches your guys’ friend.

“I can’t wait until your wedding day. I just know it’s going to be perfect.”

“My wedding day? Penelope, you’re dreaming.” You scoff, laughing at the idea. You couldn’t be any more single if you tried. Between this job and your deep-seated fear of abandonment, you have little ability to hold a relationship.

Sure, you’d love to have someone to come home to and to share yourself with, but the reality is that it’s not going to happen for a while. At least not until you do some serious work on yourself.

“I wouldn’t be so sure, muffin. I see the way you look at our young doctor.”

“Spencer?! No. You’re delusional now, Garcia.” You whisper-laugh, ignoring the light blush you can feel warming your cheeks.

“Am I though?” She retorts, giving you her knowing look before turning back to your friend as she makes her way down the aisle.

You shake your head, trying to ignore her as you turn your attention back to JJ, but you can’t help yourself from glancing towards Spencer.

You can’t deny that he’s cute in his own adorable way, but you wouldn’t say you're crushing on him or anything. He may fill your daydreams from time to time, but it doesn’t mean anything more than the fact that you spend a lot of time around him due to work and that you find him nice to look at.

Putting it out of your mind, you watch as JJ meets Will at the altar, both of them carrying bright smiles filled with love for the other. She really does deserve to be this happy.

It easily brings tears to your eyes as they say their vows, JJ herself getting watery eyes as Will slides the ring on her finger.

You can’t help but cheer as they’re finally allowed to kiss, both you and Penelope clinging to each other at the cuteness and overwhelming happiness of it all.

“Our girl is married, Penelope.” You sigh, pouting slightly although you couldn’t be happier.

“I know. It’s beautiful.”

“It really is. God, I’m so emotional right now.” You chuckle, carefully wiping at your watery eyes.

“How are you doing, momma?” Derek asks, his words directed at Penelope as he and Spencer join the two of you, his arm wrapping around her shoulders.

“We’re emotional.” She chuckles as she wipes at her eyes as well.

“We can see that.” Derek laughs, squeezing his arm around her, attempting to console her.

“Did you know, biologically the reason you are so emotional right now is due to your parasympathetic system?” Spencer starts, demonstrating his brilliance once again. You’re not complaining, though, as you actually enjoy hearing his random knowledge.

“Psychologically, however, your emotional state could be due to an unconscious perception of helplessness or it could be to show vulnerability, solicit sympathy, advertise trust, or the need for attachment.”

“Alright, mr. smarty-pants. Ladies in this state just want consolation, yeah?” Derek retorts, drawing a laugh from both you and Penelope.

“We’re fine. It’s just such a happy event.” You chuckle, wiping yet another stray tear from your eye.

“That it is, y/l/n. JJ deserves this.”

“She does. I’m actually going to go find her and congratulate her. If you’ll excuse me.” You smile, dipping out of the conversation.

~.~

You can’t help but smile as you look over the small crowd, all of them basking in the happiness of the night.

It’s been a couple hours now and you still can’t believe that one of your best friends is now married to the love of her life. She is definitely one of the lucky ones to have found such a love, and to have such a beautiful kid with him too. You can only hope that you’ll have this one day too.

Thinking about your own special day, you can’t help but recall your earlier conversation with Penelope. Are you really looking at Spencer that differently that others can notice?

Sure, Penelope seems to be more observant than others, but you must be looking at Spencer differently for her to even consider you liking him, right?

Let’s say that you did like him, it’s not like he feels the same back. You are just coworkers, teammates. Sure, you could be considered friends, but it’s not like you spend much time together outside of the office.

“Are you alright, y/n?” You hear Spencer ask, drawing you out of your thoughts.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. Yeah.” You smile, nodding lightly as you take a sip of the champagne that Rossi brought out for the event. It’s honestly amazing how perfectly he put this together. You don’t think it could be better if anyone else did it.

“Are you sure? It’s just, you seem like you’re pretty distracted over here.”

“Yeah, I’m good. Just thinking about a few things. Nothing important, though.”

He nods lightly, clicking his tongue as he gently rocks back on his feet. You can’t help the little quirk of your lips, entranced by the fluffy-haired boy.

“I’m sorry, did you need something? Or were you just, uhm, checking on me?”

He laughs a bit, looking down at the ground as he attempts to hide a smile. Even now you can’t help but find him adorable. It’s just who he is.

“Sort of. I, uh, I was wondering if you’d like to dance? With me?” He questions, blushing lightly as he watches you for a reaction, finding himself relieved when a soft smile finds its place on your lips.

“I’d love to, Spence.”

At his smile, you feel your own lips quirking up more. You set your glass down, letting him lead you out to the makeshift dance floor, joining your teammates as they all dance with each other.

You see Penelope give you a smirk and you just roll your eyes, turning your attention to Spencer as he wraps his arm around you.

“You look really nice tonight, by the way.” He smiles as he spins you around to the music.

“Thank you! You look very nice yourself, Spence.”

At your compliment, you notice him flush, smiling giddily. He doesn’t say anything, however, and you take it as he’s just not sure what to say.

You dance to another song, smiling and laughing occasionally, before Rossi decides to cut in - which you happily let him do as he’s been a father figure for you since you joined the BAU.

“You know, you and Einstein look good together.” He starts, nodding towards Spencer who joined in a dance with Penelope.

“Do we?” You chuckle, smiling as he nods.

“The next wedding I put together better be yours, kid.”

You can’t help the small laugh that leaves your body as you shake your head.

“I’ll make sure to inform you whenever that may happen, Rossi. I think you’re good for another few years, though.”

“You better. Now let me show you how to dance, because watching you was an eyesore.” He jokes, earning a boisterous laugh from you as you slap his arm.

~.~

By the end of the night, you’ve spent far more time dancing than your feet would have liked, but you can’t complain. You managed to snag a dance with each of your teammates, including JJ, who couldn’t stop smiling.

You had indulged on Rossi’s phenomenal cooking, and you even happened to miraculously catch the bouquet - which had earned cheers and more teasing from the girls.

Now, at nearly 1 am, you were beyond ready to get home and go to bed. You had had a wonderful time, having a bunch of fun with everyone, but you were tired and there was no denying it.

“JJ!” You call, spotting her at the refreshments table grabbing a drink.

“Y/n! Hey, how are you?”

“Good. How are you, JJ? God, I can’t believe you’re married now. I’m so happy for you, though.” You smile, grabbing a small glass of water for yourself.

“Amazing. This has been so...perfect. I can’t believe Rossi did all of this for us.” She chuckles.

“I know, it’s been such a wonderful night. I think I’m going to head home though, okay? I’ve danced myself out.”

“Oh, absolutely! Get home and get some sleep. I am so glad you were able to spend the night with us and celebrate.”

“Of course, JJ! I wouldn’t have missed it. You have a good rest of the night, yeah? I’ll see you on Monday.” You beam, pulling her into a hug.

“See you on Monday. Good night, y/n.”

You hug her goodbye before making your way around to the rest of the team. You're wishing Penelope and Derek a good night when Spencer joins the three of you.

“Are you leaving?” He directs to you, noticing how you’re hugging Penelope.

“Yeah, I think so. I’m exhausted. I’ll see you on Monday, alright spence?”

“Wait, I-if you don’t mind, I think I’ll head out with you?” He suggests.

“Oh, sure. I’m just catching a cab, though.” You explain, wanting to make sure he wasn’t planning on just catching a ride with you.

“Perfect, I’ll join you.”

“O-okay . Well, I still need to find hotch and Rossi.”

“No problem. I’ll see you guys on Monday.” Spencer waves, wishing Derek and Penelope a goodnight.

“You too, pretty boy. Behave on the ride home, yeah?” Derek smirks, winking at the two of you.

You silently groan, rolling your eyes as Penelope smacks his arm but is laughing along with him.

Spencer nods awkwardly, looking more than confused, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he follows along behind you as you make your way through the small crowd to find hotch or Rossi.

“Spencer. Y/n. Are you heading out?” You hear hotch ask as you’re still trying to weave through the few guests still celebrating.

Pausing, you turn to find hotch and his guest - beth - smiling happily.

“Hotch. Yeah, We were actually trying to find you to say goodbye.” You smile, looking between him and Beth as she holds onto his arm gently.

“Ah, well I’ll see you both on Monday then. I’m glad you’ve stayed awhile.” He smiles, nodding politely at the both of you.

“Me too. It’s been wonderful, especially seeing JJ so happy. Rossi really did a wonderful job.”

“He certainly knows how to throw a celebration together. Have a good night, both of you.”

“You too, hotch. Beth, it’s been wonderful to meet you.” You smile, nodding politely as Spencer says his goodbyes.

You eventually find Rossi, wishing him a goodnight and talking for a few moments while Spencer finds Emily and JJ. Within a few minutes, though, you’re both making your way down Rossi’s driveway, laughing lightly as you stumble in your heels.

“Do you want to take those off?” Spencer questions, steadying you as you stumble a little more.

“When I get home. A cab should be here soon, Rossi called one for us.”

“Sounds good. Thank you for letting me catch a ride with you.”

“Anytime, Spence. Having you come with actually makes me feel safer taking a cab this late at night.”

“I’m glad?” He chuckles, not really sure what to say to that.

“You really do look nice tonight, y/n.” He compliments after a moment.

“Thank you. I don’t get to dress up often, but it’s kind of fun.”

“You’re good at it.” He mumbles, but you hear him, a shy smile finding its way onto your face.

All this time you thought that he couldn’t possibly like you as anything more than a friend, but here he is saying things like this. You can’t help but wonder if maybe he does like you.

As the cab pulls up, however, and he opens the door for you, helping you in before getting in himself, you don’t mind finding out if there is a possibility that you could be walking down the aisle soon enough. You especially don’t mind as he carefully interlinks your hands in the middle of the backseat, after motioning for you to rest your head on his shoulder upon seeing you yawn.

Maybe, just maybe, the rest of the team knows what they’re seeing between the two of you that you had failed to notice before now.

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

General - @jillys-feral-fandoms @your-hispanichufflepuff @yikesyikesyikes95 @livvysnaps @i-love-scott-mccall

Spencer - @stoopidwithtwohoes @harrysboo28 @roonilwazlibswhore @justfangirlingoverhere

#theweasleyslut's 2k writing challenge #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #cm fanfic #criminal minds fluff #cm fluff #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff

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taehyungsgrowl · 3 years

Note

uhhhh duncan in prison angst 👀👀

hey 👋🏽

i’m sorry this took me so long to answer! but i did make a lil moodboard to go w it :•)

also i've written quite a bit of angst lately so this will be a little angsty, but also smutty.

long distance(?) old school version of sexting, really

hope y'all enjoy!

(yes, i did just discover the indention feature!)

warnings: angst if you squint, h*rny love letters, prisoners cat calling y/n, aaaand smut

word count: 3.5 k (i really don't know how this was supposed to be less than 1,000)

i don't love how this came out but the idea kept floating around in my head so i wanted to share!

Y/N didn't think what started as a harmless little experiment would show her just how powerful words could be.

She scrolled through row after row of photos on the 'write a prisoner' website on a boring evening just for something to do. And now each time she got a letter in the mail from him, her stomach would flutter.

Her finger stopped mid scroll as she came across the photo of the scruffy faced man with cheekbones carved by the gods and eyes clearer than the skies.

Duncan Shepherd.

Her eyes scanned his profile, learning that he was being held in a minimum security prison out of D.C for numerous white collar crimes, including bribery and extortion. He listed his interests as fine arts and finer wines. He'd be out for parole soon but was looking for a way to pass his time in prison.

Out of the hundreds of prisoners Y/N had scrolled past, none of them held her interest like Duncan.

It started off innocently enough. She grabbed a piece of paper from her drawer and her favorite pen and wrote him a simple introduction letter. Even if Duncan didn't seem like a dangerous or violent criminal, she felt a sense of adrenaline in writing him.

Duncan,

I hope this letter finds you well. I like to imagine you get a lot of mail sent to you. I read on your profile that you're a fan of the arts, I'd love to know more about you and what kind of art you enjoy. Truth is, I don't even know why I'm doing this, but figured prison must be lonely so I hope this helps pass the time.

I included a print of one of my favorite pieces of art to hopefully liven up your cell.

All the best,

Y/N

Y/N knew it wasn't much to start off with, but she had no clue what to send to a strange she knew next to nothing about. She printed off a print of one of Monet's Water Lillies and sealed it in an envelope with her first letter.

She let herself forget she sent the letter, not making any expectations. For all she knew, Duncan Shepherd wouldn't even reply to her. It would be hard to imagine that other people browsing the site would ignore Duncan's profile. His beauty, even in a mugshot was beyond compare.

But before long, she'd gotten a beat up envelope in her mailbox from none other than Duncan Shepherd. Excitement buzzed around her as she took a seat in her bed and tore it open.

Y/N,

Thank you for the lovely picture. I've got it hanging above my bed as a reminder of things I loved about my freedom. My mother has an original piece hanging in my childhood home. I remember staring at it for hours, enthralled by the beauty of it.

I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw the print in your envelope.

You know what they say about great minds.

Sometimes I wonder if my family would have let me pursue the arts if I'd be where I am today.

But I am eagerly counting the days until I am able to stroll through a museum in Paris again.

I am dying to know more about you. Tell me what makes up Y/N.

At the bottom of the sheet, was a rough sketch of a garden Duncan had drawn out for her.

The letters continued like that for a few weeks, slowly learning little bits and pieces of each other through writing.

She'd learned a lot about him very quickly. He told her about how troubles with his app and his powerful family led to him going to prison. And he also told her about all of the things he loved to do. Much to her surprise, she had more in common with him than she thought she would have,

Y/N,

We've been writing to each other for some time now and I must admit, curiosity is killing me. Not to mention, I do believe it's unfair that you've known what I look like from the start.

Tell me, did my photograph have anything to do with your interest in me?

I'd love to see you Y/N.

Y/N re-read the letter over and over trying to justify the butterflies in her stomach at the idea of Duncan thinking about her. Wondering what she looks like.

Duncan kept every letter Y/N had sent him using them as a way to fuel his daydreams of the woman behind the letters.

Y/N dug through her things in search of an old polaroid camera she had. - she thought Duncan would appreciate the use of instant film. Even if she felt a little silly doing so, she did her hair and makeup and searched her closet for the perfect outfit. In some way, this would be like Duncan's first impression of her. Little did she know, she'd already made a huge first impression with him.

She settled for a deep burgundy silk tank with a cowl neckline. She tossed her favorite leather jacket over it and put on her favorite dainty gold necklaces, letting them rest above her cleavage.

She made a little set up by the window in her room, where the light came in just right for a photo, and propped the camera up on a pile of books before setting it on an automatic timer to have it snap the photo of her.

She stared at the photo, smiling - happy with the results.

Y/N sat at her desk, writing him another letter and including her photo along with it.

Duncan opened his new letter from Y/N letting the photo fall from the envelope. He picked it up and stared in awe. He couldn't even focus on reading the words on the page as he stared at her picture.

In his mind, he expected her to be beautiful but was blown away by her photo.

He kept it safe, tucked under his pillow. He would take it out every night to look at it until he fell asleep dreaming of her.

Duncan saw her face... eyes clenched shut... pouty lips formed into a perfect "O" as her thighs surrounded his face.

He saw his hands traveling up her legs... kissing up her bare stomach... kissing her lips.

Everything felt so real.

Duncan woke up in a hot sweat from his over realistic dream. He could almost imagine her taste on his tongue.

The moon shone into his room giving him a sliver of silver light and he pulled her photo out, tracing his finger over her face.

He turned on the little lamp at his desk and sat down to write her back.

I can't tell you the time, but I believe it's past midnight and I can't sleep without dreaming of you.

Forgive me if I'm being forward, but I can't get you off my mind.

What I would give to be with you now...

Y/N, I want to feel your skin on mine. I imagine what it must feel like to have your lips pressed against my own.

I can't stop myself from thinking of all the ways I want to make you mine.

D.S.

I want to make you mine.

Y/N kept going back to those words.

If it weren't for the prison bars keeping Duncan away...

Her daydreams of spending the afternoons sipping coffee and strolling through colorful cities with Duncan began to change after the last letter. Knowing that he wanted her sent shivers down her spine.

I can't stop thinking about you either... Especially your last letter.

I want to know all the ways you'd make me yours.

I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it as well. I'm counting the days with you until you're able to get out and do just that...

Y/N colored her lips with her favorite lipstick and kissed the bottom of the page, leaving the perfect kiss mark on it.

She had unlocked something with Duncan with the last letter. Ever since he and Y/N started to exchange letters back and forth, he hadn't even bothered to open mail from other admirers. He only had eyes for Y/N.

Y/N.

Wish you could hear how your name falls off my lips as I chant it over and over when I bring myself relief - picturing your lips around my cock.

God.

It's hard to think clearly when you're on my mind.

You want to know of all the ways I'd make you mine? My hand would fall off by the time it took to write out each and every way I'd do that, sweetheart.

For starters, I'd love to skin my teeth into your skin. Leaving sweet love bites along your neck. Would you like that?

I wouldn't want you to worry about a thing.

You'd let me take care of you, right baby?

Maybe I'd tie up your wrists to make sure you keep still while I work on making you cum.

I hope you know I plan on keeping these promises the moment I get out.

Y/N touched herself as she read Duncan's letter again. His words making her pool between her legs. She dipped her hand into her panties and imagined everything Duncan described that he'd do to her.

Y/N wanted to do something special for Duncan.

She changed into a lacy lingerie set and grabbed her old camera again. Her heartbeat was beating fast with excitement. She held one hand up with her finger on the shutter and pointed it towards her bottoms. As she dipped her free hand into the waistband of her panties, she took the teasing shot of her hand inside her underwear.

Her cheeks felt hot as she took a look at the photo.

She took a few more. A few more teasing pictures - like the one she took wearing her leather jacket barely covering her - along with more R- rated photos.

She grabbed her small stack of photos and tied them with a piece of ribbon in order from least to most risque and added them to the letter she sent off to him.

Do you know what you do to me?

My letters make you touch yourself? What I would give to be able to see it in more than just your pictures. To be able to hear you for myself.

You don't know how much I loved your photos. You make my cock throb, thinking of just how much I want to fuck you.

I need to see you. Hear you.

How would you feel about coming to see me?

I can arrange with my assistants (the ones not in prison) to arrange a flight for you...

Please let me know what you think.

Love, D.S.

Love D.S.

"Shepherd. You got a call," the guard buzzed Duncan out of his cell and took him to the phone booth where the phone was waiting for him.

He wasn't expecting a call from his lawyer until later this week so he wasn't sure who would be calling him. Not like he and his family were on great terms at the moment.

Y/N tapped her foot anxiously on the other end of the call, trying to fight the nerves off.

"Hello?"

His voice was lower than she expected.

"Hi," she spoke barely above a whisper. "It's Y/N," she continued.

"Y/N? Y/N? Oh my god." Duncan smiled in a way he hadn't since he stepped foot into prison. "Your voice!" he laughed, "I'm hearing your voice! Wait, how? I - why? How?" he was at loss for words at the surprise.

"I hope it's okay. I called the office where I send my letters to and asked to call you," she bit her lip. "I like your voice."

Duncan chuckled, shaking his head. "Wow. It's so good to hear yours."

They knew they didn't have much time but they were both so wrapped up in the fact that they were hearing each other for the first time.

"I, uh, also wanted to talk to you about your... proposal from your last letter... about visiting you I mean." she paced back and forth in her room. "I'd like that. A lot."

His cheeks would be hurting from how hard he was smiling.

"You've got it, baby. We'll make it happen, I promise."

There was a brief pause, "Don't know how I'm gonna control myself when I have you in front of me, princess."

"Two minutes, Shepherd," the guard called over making Duncan roll his eyes.

"I have to go soon. But include your info in the next letter and I'll have my lawyers work something out with you, okay?"

"Okay," she smiled. "And Dunc, it's so good to hear your voice too,"

"You'll call me again?" he asked, desperation almost bleeding into his tone.

"Yes. I promise."

"Good." he grinned. "I'll talk to you soon. Bye, baby."

Over the next few weeks, Y/N and Duncan continued to have phone calls more often, but their letters never stopped. He got in touch with his attorney and passed along Y/N's information for him to follow up and help arrange a trip for her.

Before she knew it, she was being flown out in a first class seat to D.C.

They had her stay in a luxury suite the night before she got to finally meet Duncan.

The morning of, Y/N had piles of clothes tossed around the room as she searched for what to wear.

She'd known Duncan and his taste pretty well from his letters and phone calls to know what he liked. Y/N put on a baby pink silk mini slip dress that tiptoed the line between streetwear and lingerie, and strappy heels.

"Damn, baby. Haven't seen you around here..."

"Are you here for me?"

Along with countless other cat calls flooded her ears as the guard led her to Duncan's cell.

Duncan heard the commotion down the hall and he knew Y/N would be there any second. He frowned, wanting to take her away. None of those creeps deserved to even look at her, and here they were harassing her. It was his fault for bringing her there. He tried to tune them out, wanting to be okay when he saw Y/N.

Y/N was standing behind the guard as they came to Duncan's cell.

"Follow me, Shepherd. You both have an hour," the guard let Duncan out and he could finally lock eyes with Y/N.

She froze, finally seeing. His photo on the website did him no justice. The piercing stare of his eyes couldn't be recaptured on camera. His pink, full lips were even prettier in person.

"Hi," Duncan broke the silence between them. He was handcuffed immediately so he couldn't touch her the way he wished he could have right away.

But they were taken to the parloir where they would finally have some sense of privacy. Duncan's lawyers had worked out for this conjugal visit. They might have slipped the guards a few extra bills to ensure Duncan and Y/N had extra privacy for a moment. But Duncan had been a model prisoner (in one of the comfiest prisons in the country), so the guards had no reason to say no.

"One hour." he reminded Dunc, as he removed his handcuffs and left the room, leaving Y/N and Duncan alone.

"You're here," he closed the gap between them and embraced her. She smelled even better than he imagined.

"Duncan," she smiled with tears in her eyes, "I can't believe it's really you," she giggled.

"It's me," he pulled back, holding her hands as he admired her. "God, you're gorgeous."

Y/N couldn't help herself. She threw her arms around Duncan and kissed him.

Duncan stumbled back a little before steadying them. He cupped her face and deepened the kiss. He could feel her pulse quickening under his hand.

"God, can't believe you're here," he mumbled against her lips.

It'd be so long since he'd be this intimate with anyone - let alone someone he liked so much. He tried to push back the thoughts of the ticking clock counting their time and the cold industrial feel of the room they were in.

"I'm here... I'm yours," she tangled her fingers in his hair before kissing him again.

Duncan led her to the table, setting her on top of it. He towered above her, his hands on her thighs, slowly inching up her dress. She was everything he imagined and more.

"Open your legs for me," he instructed, parting them open.

He lowered himself until he was face to face with her dripping cunt. Her panties, if they could even be called that - they were a piece of barely-there cloth - were soaked. Duncan pressed her lips to the wet spot on her underwear and kissed it slowly, letting his tongue poke out through his lips and coat them with his saliva as well.

"Taste so sweet," he murmured, pulling her panties aside and putting his tongue on her wet pussy.

He lapped her wetness with his tongue, letting it massage her clit. Sucking and kissing her - watching how every move he made caused a different reaction from her.

Y/N tried to keep quiet, biting down on her lip to stifle her moans.

Duncan peeked up at her, holding in her sounds. He remembered the way the other prisoners hollered at her.

"I wanna hear you, baby. Please," he begged. He kissed along her thighs, "Want everyone in this god damn prison to know you're mine."

Y/N let the sounds she was holding in fall freely.

"Duncan. Duncan..." she called his name over and over getting closer to the sweet relief his tongue promised.

"Cum for me, sweetheart."

Duncan felt her heels digging into his shoulder blades as she trembled, finishing on his lips.

"Good girl," he praised, kissing along her thighs.

Duncan stood up as Y/N watched him with her hands pressed on the table, leaning back slightly to watch him.

"What?" Duncan chuckled, slowly undoing his jumpsuit.

"Just can't stop looking at you! You're real!" she laughed.

"Sure am," he grabbed his shaft, closing the gap between them. "I don't know when we'll be able to see each other.. like this again," he leaned down to kiss her. "Wanna make sure I make you feel good,"

He rubbed the end of his cock against her pussy. "Are you ready?"

"Waited so long," she whined, nodding her head.

Duncan pushed inside her, slowly. Savoring the way he stretched her open.

"Fuck," he groaned. "You're so tight," he panted, feeling her clench around his length.

He focused on the way he snapped his hips into hers, keeping a steady pace trying not to finish before she did.

But it had been so long. It had been a long time coming for this moment.

His head was in the crook of her neck, panting heavily. "Fuck, baby." he sunk his teeth into her soft skin. "Gonna cum," before he could finish his statement, he shot his load into her.

He stayed inside her as he rode out his orgasm.

Flushed Duncan faced her; embarrassed for finishing before he wanted to. "I'm sor-" she stopped him by pulling him in for a hard, deep kiss.

She pushed his hair out of his face, bumping her nose with his, "Nothing to be sorry for."

She had Duncan lay on the floor, using his jumpsuit to hold his head up, and then straddled his waist.

Her silky mini dress was bunched around her hips. Duncan found himself getting hard again as she climbed on top of him.

"Thought about doing this for so long," she kissed him. "Can't tell you how often I touched myself reading your letters... thinking about riding you," she sighed, positioning herself over his cock and sinking down.

She rode his cock, bouncing up and down his length. Her nails dug into his chest as she used it for support. The curve of his cock hitting her core made her eyes roll back with each roll of her hips.

Hot sweaty bodies had the coldness of the room forgotten.

Y/N grabbed Duncan's hands, intertwining their fingers, "Gonna.." she started, her legs shaking as her movement got sloppier.

"Me too," he grunted.

She felt Duncan fill her to the brim for the second time.

After a few moments of stillness, Y/N finally stood up, helping Duncan up with her. Her legs were shaky and Duncan helped her sit down.

She reached into her purse for a rag she brought. Duncan took it from her hand and got on his knees again. He cleaned their cum off her thighs, stopping only to give her small little kisses on her legs.

He heard Y/N sniffle and looked up, concern painted across his face. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" Is she regretting it? He thought.

"No! Of course not," she sniffled again, "I just wish... you could come with me. Leave this place with me."

"Oh, baby," he stood up and kissed her forehead. "Soon. I promise," he tilted her chin up to kiss her.

And Y/N knew he meant what he said. Soon they'd be able to be together all the time, but it still broke her heart to leave and have to see him stay behind the metal bars.

tags:

@desertsunflower00 @celestialrequiem @dhampiravidi @ritualmichael @blakescoven @dark-mei-rose @xavierplympton @langdonswhoreprobably @feralthoughtdump @wroteclassicaly @melodylangdon @bloodcoatedeclipse @kitty4860

bonus: screenshot from a very good point drunk!anon made vkfsjk

#duncan shepherd #duncan shepherd smut #duncan shepherd angst #duncan shepherd x reader #cody fern #house of cards #hoc #i didnt know who would like to be tagged or not so lmk if i need to make changes to the tl #thank you!!!#submission

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fullmarvelheart · 3 years

Text

Crossing Lines (6/?)

Pairing: mob!Bucky x fbi!mob!Reader

Word Count: 5,199

Recommended: 18+ readers

Summary: A sudden and unsettling event rocks the underworld, and Y/N is immediately called in to prepare for what’s to come. What she isn’t prepared for is James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, also known as the new head of the Brooklyn mafia clan. When these two get shoved into a world of danger and deceit, will they ever learn to trust each other? Or will they be doomed from the start?

Warnings: Swearing, angst, a wee bit of fluff?, Grant Ward (because he’s his own warning), mentions of violence

A/N: Happy Black Widow Day! I’ve been waiting for this movie to come for so long and unfortunately I won’t be able to watch it tonight😢. But anyways, here’s part six with a surprise character😉 (literally didn’t think of adding her until yesterday). Hope you guys enjoy! This has not been beta read at all. All mistakes are my own. The GIF is not mine, so credit goes to the original creator!

Series Masterlist

“Skye, come on! Why the hell did you drive off to the middle of damn nowhere?”

“Just trust me.” She says calmly as she parks the car, completely ignoring my outburst in the process. “And stop complaining, Y/N/N. I know you had another fight with your dad, so I know you wanted to be out of the city.”

“Fine, ok. But what is going on? I’m guessing Ward has no idea what you’re doing.”

“You’re not serious, right? You know he hates me doing anything remotely dangerous.”

“Not that I’m against going behind your boyfriend’s back, but what did you do?” I ask my, running my fingers through my hair.

“So, you know how Ward mentioned HYDRA’s top runner, Crossbones, the other day?” I nod. “Well, I got curious. We know nothing about him, and Ward thinks he can set a trap for him. I just, I just don’t want him to get hurt when I could have done something.”

“And you know if you did this at the Bureau, he’d find out somehow and stop you. Or Gonzales would.” Now she nods. “Alright, but I’m helping you with this. I’ve got a weird feeling about the whole thing and as your partner, it’s my job to keep you safe.”

“You worry too much.” She chuckles. “Besides, I’ll practically be behind my computer screen the whole time. Nothing’s gonna happen.”

“You’re right, I guess. Doesn’t mean I’ll stop worrying though. And why are you still with Ward?” I groan dramatically, causing her to laugh.

“Oh, be nice. He’s not bad once you get to know him.”

“I don’t know. Something about his arrogance just doesn’t settle well with me.” I shrug.

“You’re being over dramatic. He’s great!”

“He better be, he is dating my best friend after all. Now let’s find the next exit, I’m hungry!”

Her laughter echoes in my head as the car moves along the highway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I stomp through the halls on a mission. The office was empty, and disturbingly dark and stuffy for nine in the morning. If he’s not in his office there’s only one other place I could imagine him in, his bedroom.

“Please, don’t kill me for this.” I mutter to myself before taking a deep breath and throwing the door open.

My eyes scan the room and zero in on the lump underneath the covers.

“Go away, Steve.” His usually pleasant rough voice is mixed with hints of sleep and something else. I can’t help it that my inner self finds it sexy while I try to stay concerned rather than turned on.

Now’s not the time for a daydream. Focus.

The door shuts with a soft click, giving him the impression ‘Steve’ left. You aren’t that lucky today. I’m no push over! My boot clad feet thud on the wooden floor as I march straight towards the end of the bed. With one strong grip at the end of the comforter, I yank the sheets off his body before turning towards the curtain clad windows.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” He screeches, trying to pull the blankets back up to cover himself from the cold air of the room. That was nothing. “Hey! What the hell is this, Rogers?” I pull the curtains open; the intense sunlight illuminates the room causing even me to briefly squint.

After successfully finding a single blanket to cover back up with, I notice the fact that Barnes had curled himself into a human ball in the middle of his mattress to block out the light.

“Oh, for fucks sake.” I groan, grabbing onto an edge piece of the fabric. “Get up, now!”

I try to yank it off him in one swift motion, again, but he’s faster than I thought. He springs up into a sitting position, latching on to the blanket I almost had off him, commencing a tug-of-war over the stupid thing. The muscles and veins in his arms flex and bulge, and in normal situations, I’d be impressed. But I’m getting irritated.

“You’re an absolute child.” I grunt as I fight with him.

“Let go, you heathen.” He counters.

At his command, I let go, causing him to fly backwards and bounce slightly on the mattress.

“Dangerous mob boss my ass.” I chide, crossing my arms as he just looks at me with disbelief.

“What do you want, Fury?” He groans, rubbing his eyes.

“Too much for you to comprehend at the moment but let’s start with this. How about you get your head out of your ass, get out of bed, and do your damn job?”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“You wouldn’t understand, Fury. And you’re crossing a line here. Get out.”

“It’s Maximoff to you right now. And what don’t I understand, Barnes?” I ask, ignoring his other remark.

“You have some nerve, coming here, into my room. Now get out.” He growls, tossing the blanket away, exposing me to the fact that he sleeps only in a pair of boxers. Damn, suits really don’t do his body justice, but damn does he look good in either.

“You have some nerve thinking this doesn’t concern me.” I snap back, regaining my focus, glad he didn’t catch me staring or was too annoyed to notice.

“And how,” He starts, finally standing up and slowly walking towards me, “Does this concern you?”

His muscles bulge as he crosses his arms, stopping at the foot of his massive king-sized bed. Though, there is an unsway of his body, and the shakiness that was in his hands that doesn’t evade my attention. Where I once noticed stubble, an unkept beard lies in its place. His hair looks knotted, unwashed, and greasy. Overall, he looks like an absolute train wreck.

“How does it not? Furthermore, how does it not concern you?! Barnes when did you last have a full meal, let alone showered!?” I exclaim, looking him over more closely. I can barely see the fact that he’s lost weight, but it’s there, it’s noticeable. The lack of a hot shower is more than just noticeable though.

He scoffs again.

“This is none of your business. Leave.”

“Stop being so fucking defensive with me. And this is my damn business, or have you forgotten the deal you have with my father? With Brooklyn on uneasy ground, especially after losing their last leader, you’re a target for HYDRA to attack. Not to mention the threat of the other mafia clans. And you know damn well that if my father has any idea that your alliance will cost him more than benefit him, he’ll watch you be fed to the sharks. But it just so happens that his daughter is in your territory, which gives you just a bit more wiggle room. However, if you put me in danger, he won’t just watch, he’ll feed you to the damn sharks himself!”

“I know!” He yells, walking closer to me.

“Then start acting like it.” I hiss.

“You don’t understand!” He argues, throwing his hands up in the air.

“Understand what?!”

“I can’t do this without him!”

The room falls into silence, and I stare at him, stunned.

“Okay? I can’t do this without my father. Yes, he’d been preparing me for years. But I always knew I could get advice from him or help if I needed it, once I took over. But this, all of this. I don’t know how to lead my men; I don’t know how prepare us. I don’t even have time to grieve the fact my father, not my boss, is gone forever, and I don’t know how to do this without him.” He chuckles dryly, hands on his hips. “I told you, you wouldn’t understand.” And he’s turning away from me.

“You’re wrong.” I cringe at how shaky and quiet my voice comes out.

“What?”

“You’re wrong.” I repeat firmly. “To think I don’t understand.” The sting of tears forming in my eyes has me pausing to close them and take a deep breath.

When I open them again, Barnes faces me properly with a look of confusion and mild concern.

“No one knows exactly what to do in these situations. But from one ally to another, you have your training, and the people you trust to help you figure it out. And you have your friends. It might not always work the way you planned, but nothing ever really does. You aren’t the only one grieving the death of your father, the men also adored him. Keep that in mind.” I pause, watching him work through what I said to him. “But don’t you dare ever assume I don’t understand grief.” I sneer. “Or how to continue on with the weight of it constantly on my shoulders. You don’t know me. So don’t act like you do.” He gapes at me, like a fish. “Get your shit together Barnes, and get to work.”

I walk out of his room as quickly as I can, letting the door slam behind me. Two corners later and I finally let myself slump against the wall. I gasp for air I didn’t know I needed as I fight back the tears trying to escape. It’s been six months! It was just a stupid dream! Get it together!

When my breathing returns to normal, I pull out my phone. The message from the unsaved number glares at me as I ignore it, again, and type out a message to another party.

“Meet me at the shore this afternoon. More details will be given soon. Bring the info you have gathered and don’t tell the boss.”

The response is almost immediate.

“Understood. He’s getting antsy about the report...”

I groan to myself as I push off the wall. He’ll just have to wait longer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The zippers of my backpack nearly shriek as I pull both of them together quickly. I’ve been frustrated with my more legal job before, but this is something different.

Why the fuck are they making me go to a check in with the case officer this early? A month! I’m supposed to have a month to gain traction and trust in the role they requested of me! They should know that it isn’t safe to possibly expose an undercover operative at all, why would they risk it this early on?!

I growl to myself under my breath as I lace up my boots, aggravated that they’re risking the objective of this mission. If I get made, my father will also lose the alliance, HYDRA might learn of my role in the government and go into hiding, and that’s a lot of fuck up that doesn’t need to happen. Gonzales better either know what he’s doing or have good intel for me.

I swing the backpack up on my shoulder, just as someone knocks on the door.

“Give me a second.” I call, letting the pack flop onto my bed.

I’m surprised to find Natasha on the other side of the door, waiting with her arms crossed patiently.

“Come on in.” I say before she can speak, nodding to the inside of my room.

She raises an eyebrow in suspicion but walks in anyways. She turns to face me just and the door closes.

“All I was going to say was that Barnes is requesting everyone to head to the warehouse, but I’m guessing there’s something else?”

I nod. “I got called for a check in.” I tell her with an eyebrow raised, not needing to tell her who I’m referring to.

“This soon?”

“I’m hoping to get something worth the risk for this, but my gut says otherwise.”

She hums to herself in thought as she processes.

“I can get you a cover this time.” She states sharply. “But they need to get their act together. The cover might work just enough, but there are still people in here who don’t trust you, yet.”

“They might never.” I shrug. “But I agree with your risk assessment. I’m prepared to chew out whoever it is.”

She smirks, then motions towards my door. “Get to the warehouse and leave your things here for now. I’ll make the arrangements.”

I give her a small smile before we’re both walking off in different directions.

The warehouse is packed with people, many of which I don’t recognize, all of whom are engaging in loud conversations. I begin to push my way through the crowd, though I don’t make it too far as I feel a hand grab onto my arm. When I turn towards the pull, Drax smiles at me, motioning for me to follow him. I laugh quietly to myself as people practically jump out of Drax’s way. When we stop, I spot Carol not too far away and walk over to her.

“For the record,” She says, not even looking at me. “This is odd for us too.”

“Is this everyone?” I ask, confused.

She scoffs. “No, there are still those on patrols or jobs that aren’t here. But I’m sure they’ll be brought up to speed, on whatever this is, later.”

I hum as an answer, my eyes scanning the crowd of faces, seeing who I’ll recognize. I just make out Rollins’ silhouette as the voices begin to fall silent. Barnes stands in front of the gathering on a small platform, Rogers and Wilson flank him on either side. He looked a lot better than what I saw earlier. His beard trimmed back to a five o’clock shadow, his hair washed, brushed, and tied into a small bun behind his head, and there was strength in his body showing that he was able to eat since I last saw him. If I hadn’t seen him this morning, I wouldn’t have believed anything was wrong in the first place.

Standing behind the three mafia men, I see Barton, the two Odinson brothers, and five other men and one woman that I don’t recognize. Natasha casually merges in with the group at the last second.

“Many of you have taken note of my absence recently.” Barnes starts talking, his voice booming across the warehouse, commanding everyone’s full attention. It sends a thrill down my spine that I suppress. “And I am aware of the rumors that have been spreading regarding such absence.

“I was reminded earlier today that I was as close to my father as he was with many of you, maybe just a little closer. And yes, I’ve been grieving. But that grief has not blinded me to the enemy that is still out there, just as it has not blinded you.

“The enemy that has let their guard down because HYDRA thinks it has weakened us!” Grumbles of disapproval make him pause. “But they have not weakened us! This clan, this family, is not weakened by the grief of our leader. We are angered, enraged, that they dare try to cross us.” He pauses, listening to the murmurs of agreement of his people. “They have no idea what awaits them. Since the fall of George Barnes, they’ve expected us to kneel before them, begging for mercy. But they will be the ones begging. Their days are number because we will find them, and we will bury every last one of them as we watch HYDRA burn!”

The men begin to shout out their support, the roar almost sounds deafening to my ears, but I follow their lead, yelling with them. Barnes holds up his hand, and the crowd silences.

“Get a move on. We have work to do.” The warehouse erupts in applause, shouts of affirmation, threats to HYDRA, and anything of the sort.

The men begin to clear out of the warehouse, and Carol motions for me to follow her before walking towards Barnes.

“It’s good to see you again, boss.” She tells him with a smile, one he reciprocates before glancing at me. “I was wondering if I’d be able to take new girl around for a drive. Just to show her around our territory.”

“That’ll have to wait, Danvers.” Natasha cuts in, before turning to me. “Let’s go.”

She’s walking away before Barnes or Danvers, who both share a curious glance with me, can say anything. I only slightly hesitate before hurrying after her.

“Thank you.” I mutter once we’re out of the warehouse.

“Don’t thank me, yet. The boss will have questions.”

“Hopefully it’ll be worth it. If it isn’t, I’m gonna chew out whatever unlucky soul is sent.”

“I have no doubt of that.” She replies, and I can hear a hint of a smirk in her voice.

We near one of the doors that serve as an exit to the base, and I see my backpack sitting at the bottom of it.

“Know you way around?” She asks as I swing the backpack over my shoulder.

“Well enough. It shouldn’t be too hard.” I say, shrugging.

“Good. If you do get lost, call me,” She hands me a piece of paper with a number on it. “And I’ll sent someone for you. Good luck.”

“Thanks.” I nod, folding the paper up and slipping it in the back pocket of my jeans.

She nods back, then walks away. I take a deep breath before throwing the door open and walking out in the direction of the nearest subway. When I’m a decent way away from the warehouse, I pull out my phone.

“Brooklyn Bridge Park, Pier 2, two hours.” I press send on the text before placing a call, one I admittedly should have done earlier.

“About damn time!” I cringe at the tone in his voice but carry on as if I didn’t piss him off.

“I thought I wouldn’t have any contact with the Family. But everything’s going well. There was a slight issue, but I handled it and everything’s back to the way it should be.” I say over the noise of the street traffic.

“What issue? And why are you calling in public?”

“I was called in.” I grumble into the phone.

“Already?”

“Yes, but I swear if this is a waste of time, whoever I’m meeting is getting an earful.”

“I’d be concerned if they didn’t. But what issue?”

“It’s been fixed, it doesn’t matter, but I need a copy of the contract.” I state firmly, hopefully distracting him from the other thing.

“Y/N, you know-”

“Father!” I take a breath, so I don’t start arguing with him in public. “I need that copy. If I’m going to be doing this, I need to know every single condition, and every term.”

The other end of the line is silent, and I know he’s thinking things over.

“Alright. But in turn, when I ask for an update, you give me one that fucking day. Understood?”

“Yes.” I mumble, hating feeling like a scolded child.

“Good.”

“I’m getting on the subway, I have to go.”

“I expect an update tomorrow.”

“Yes sir.” I hang up the phone and let out a deep sigh before walking down the stairs.

As the subway approaches, my phone chimes and I glance at the text.

“Understood. I’ll see you there.”

The meeting place my case officer chose, a quaint little coffee shop, is two blocks away from my stop. The amount of people on the sidewalks has me wishing for my bike as I squeeze in between people, and there are several times I wished to shove the slow walkers out of my way when I couldn’t pass. Honestly being stuck in traffic was a bit more enjoyable to being stuck behind of group of gossiping women.

I come up to the corner of the street, where the shop is located, and spot its cute little sign. As I cross the street, I happen to take a glance in the window and immediately find a face I recognize.

“You got to be shitting me.” I growl to myself.

The door chimes as I walk through, and I head towards the table.

“Fancy seeing you here.” I grumble as I take a seat, using the heel of my boot to put pressure on the toes of his foot.

“Right, well,” He coughs, covering up a wince as he pulls his foot away from mine. I smirk to myself. “Considering I called for this, I’m not really surprised.”

“Ward, you son of a bitch.” I hiss, quiet enough not to draw attention, as I kick his shin sharply. “You’re an idiot. You better have a good reason for doing this Grant.”

He visibly winces and adjusts himself before clearing his throat to address me.

“As your case officer, I don’t need to explain this to you.”

“You do when you compromise my position. This was way too early!” I hiss before clearing my throat, remember not to cause a scene. “Do you have information for me or not?”

“We’ll get to that in a second. Look, if Skye was still alive, she’d want-”

“Yeah, well she’s not here. How does your new girlfriend, what was it, Kara, feel about you still being hung up on your dead ex?”

“Do not bring her into this.” He hisses, before straightening up and burying any hint of annoyance until there is barely any emotion visible on his face. I hate when he does this, it unnerves me how easy it is for him each time. “Here.” He states before putting a thin file on the table for me to grab. “This is everything that we’ve been able to find out about them recently.”

I swipe it off the tabletop and gently toss it into my backpack, without opening the folder.

“Hopefully, I don’t see you again anytime soon. This better not become a regular thing with you.” I mumble before getting up and ordering a cup of coffee to-go.

As I walk out of the store, I almost bump into a blonde woman that was on her phone. Luckily for both of us, the coffee didn’t spill. After a few seconds of hurried apologies, and foreign curse words on her end, I hurry to the station, hoping I won’t have to wait that long for my ride.

When I get to the park, I decide to wander around for a little bit. It feels good to be out in fresh air inside of being inside a building for the entire day. The clouds look fluffy and soft, the breeze is cool on my face, and the sun feels just warm enough to enjoy without sweating to death. I stop once I get to Pier 2 and just find myself leaning on the railing of the pier, looking out onto the river and the skyscrapers on the other side.

While I wait, I decide to enter Natasha’s number into my phone, then letting the piece of paper fall into the water of the river, the safest way to dispose of it. After I can no longer see the white of the paper, I return my gaze to my father’s city.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you like this.”

“Like what?” I ask, looking towards the voice.

“Content. Happy, even just a little bit.” She says with a small smile while moving to stand beside me.

“It’s the little things like this that make me happy, May. It helps me forget about the mess that is my life, even just for a few minutes.”

She hums and we just stand in silence for a moment.

“What have you been able to find?” I ask, breaking the silence and going into business mode.

“Not much. I doubt it’ll be much help to you.”

“A little may be what I need. I still have some of her research. At this point I just need anything on him.”

“Having nightmares about her again?” She asks, concerned.

It causes me to smile, even just a little bit. Sure, my father hired her, but she has always remained loyal to me, more so than to the family. Though, I have no doubt that if she had any concern about me, she’d go talk to my father.

“More like memories. Still, they leave me feeling restless because I haven’t been able to find a lead on this guy. Skye was getting close, I know that. Which is the only explanation as to why she was killed.”

She hums again. “Still not planning on telling your father?”

I scoff. “After he basically called me paranoid for looking into Ward? No. If he finds out I haven’t let this go like he thinks, he’s going to ask questions. Questions I’m not ready to answer. Not only that, but if he finds out I contacted you while on assignment, I’d get my head chewed off. I’m technically not even allowed to contact him, yet here we all are.”

She nods with a slight chuckle, then pulls a file out from underneath her jacket and hands it to me.

“I’ll keep checking in with my contacts on the street to see if anything new about him surfaces, but until then, this is all I have.”

I stare at the closed file for a moment, before sliding that into my backpack as well.

“Thank you again, May.” She smiles briefly before nodding.

“You should get out of here, before anyone questions why you’ve been gone for a while.” I nod and push away from the railing. “Oh, and Y/N?” I turn back around. “Stay safe.”

“You too, May.” I call back, walking away.

A flash of blonde hair in the corner of my eye has me pause for a second, but when I see nothing, I shrug to myself and keep going. It must have been in my head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The door to my room shuts and I feel my body sag from the exhaustion of the day. I let my backpack slip to the ground with a soft thud and shuffle towards my bed. When my back meets the cool sheets of the mattress, a deep sigh escapes my lips and I close my eyes, finally enjoying a bit of rest. But, there’s a knock at my door that has me groaning loudly.

“Of course.” I grumble under my breath.

When I open the door, I’m very surprised to find Thor standing on the other side with a slight scowl on his face.

“Follow me.”

I do so, hesitantly, letting the door slowly click shut before catching up to him. The walk is silent, and for some reason, I feel uneasy for the first time since I walked in here. He leads me through the halls, and I find myself recognizing where we are going. James Barnes’ office.

Thor opens the door and motions for me to step inside, and I do, trying to maintain a façade of confidence. And I’m grateful for it, because the glare Barnes wears as he watches me enter almost has me reeling backwards. He sits behind his desk, looking regal, deadly, and in charge. No trace of friendliness shows on his face.

What really throws me for a loop is the petite redhead curled on his lap, her well-manicured nails raking through his hair in almost a possessive manner. The sight makes something churn uncomfortably in my stomach, and by the smirk on her face, she knows it too.

I look away from her, finding Rogers and Wilson in their places behind Barnes, leaning against the wall. Natasha stands off to the right, near the only window in the office.

“Dot, leave.” He says stiffly, not removing his gaze from mine.

“But Bucky Boo-”

“Now.” He growls, ignoring her high-shrieked protest. This is the infamous Barnes I’ve heard about on the streets.

She huffs in irritation, untangling herself from Barnes’ lap and starts stomping out of the room like a child throwing a small tantrum. She brushes past me, giving me the death glare on her way. I simply raise an eyebrow at her retreating form until the door shuts behind her.

“Lovely person, Bucky Boo.” I mutter under my breath, turning back around. “I haven’t looked at the information I was given, yet. I only just got back to the compound.” I say to Barnes, assuming that’s what got him so miffed.

“How was the meeting?” He asks, completely ignoring my remark, irritation still evident.

“I wanted to shove Ward’s head through the window only a few times. So, fairly well, I guess. Still pissed off he’s assigned as my case officer though.” I shrug still not seeing the point of this.

I see Barnes’ eye twitch and hear the soft click of the door closing. I turn around to see the blonde that I almost walked into on the sidewalk from earlier, and everything falls into place. With a click of my tongue in understanding, I turn back around towards Barnes.

“You had me followed.” I state.

“Yelena Belova, Nat’s sister, was sent to keep an eye on you. Make sure you stayed safe.”

“Hmmm. Interesting.” I hum towards the ground, frustrated that I didn’t see that coming earlier, as my hands find purchase on my hips, my nails digging into the fabric of my shirt.

“Imagine my surprise when I got a message saying you weren’t on your way back after the drop off, but was going to meet someone else.”

“Yeah, and I’m not telling you why.” I fire back stubbornly, my hands still on my waist.

Barnes blinks rapidly, shocked, because I didn’t deny it, that I said no to him so easily, or maybe because of something else completely. Whatever the reason, he recovers quickly. A scowl now twisting up his features.

“We had a deal with your f-”

“I’m not the one that needs reminder of that deal, it seems.” I snap. “What I did today, was for reasons you aren’t entitled to.” His scowl deepens. “Now, I could give you some information about it. If you were to tell me something in return.”

“And what’s that?” He growls, but willing to play my game.

“The last crate I picked up on my assignment.” Recognition dances over his eyes. “Yeah, it’s about that. Tell me what was in there because I know for a fact it wasn’t the shit on the manifest. That was just a cover. You tell me what the shipment was, and I’ll tell you what I was given.”

He clenches his jaw, but doesn’t say a word. I wait for a moment before nodding, more to myself than him.

“You’ll get the info the Bureau sent me, once I make sure it’s actually useful.”

I turn and exit the office quickly, no one saying a word to me before the door closes. My nails dig into my palms as I stomp back to my room, pissed off at the day I’ve had. My door slams shut, and I begin pacing the floor of my room. Anger flows through my veins like a fire that can’t be stopped. I had at least thought I was gaining some ground with Barnes and even some of the others, but apparently not. The only reason he let me go free is because of that stupid deal.

One thing’s certain after tonight, though. James Barnes is not to be trusted.

Part 7

Tag List:

@the-ss-horniest-book-club

@broco8

@tcc-gizmachine

@miraclesoflove

@ladyacrasia

#marvel #my writing #writers on tumblr #writers #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #hbc bucky barnes appreciation days #mob!bucky #mobster bucky #mob!bucky x reader #natasha romanoff #yelena belova #carol danvers

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duskholland · 4 years

Text

Lingerie | Tom Holland Smut

summary ↠ your co-star Tom offers to photograph you in your new lingerie, and it only escalates from there.

word count ↠ 3.9k

warnings ↠ this is pretty much just pwp I won’t lie. we’ve got some dirty talk, a lingerie-filled photoshoot, a lil bit of thigh riding, oral (fem receiving) and then MxF sex

a/n ↠ quarantine is doing ~stuff~ to me and I couldn’t stop thinking about the concept of Tom being your photographer and getting more and more riled up so....here ya go. enjoy! this is the first time I’ve posted nsfw stuff in a very very long time, so any feedback would be appreciated :) also a huge thank you to @rhapsodyparker for being my fave hype man - love you mate !

18+ !!!! this contains NSFW material, so do not read if you are a minor.

Spending a few weeks in London with your new co-star Tom and his brothers had been the brilliant idea of your manager. When your schedule had presented you with a some valuable weeks off between projects, she’d suggested that bunking down with him in his London house would be the perfect way to get to know the man before you spend the next months acting out your latest project. You’d seen him around at a few awards shows, and he hadn’t been opposed to hosting you, so with a few heavy suitcases and an open mind, you’d moved into the house he shares with his brother Harry and his best friend Harrison.

It’s been three weeks since you first rolled up, and things are going well. You’ve been enjoying getting to know the guys and the city they love so much, and it seems like every day you grow more and more comfortable around Tom - which is only a good thing, given that your upcoming project requires you to tangle with him in a few risqué scenes. But you’d be lying if you said that your feelings for the brown eyed star are merely platonic, and over the last couple of days especially, you’ve found your thoughts wandering. You catch yourself stiffening as you watch him throw back a pint of beer, his sturdy fingers wrapped carefully around the glass. And something in the pit of your stomach stirs every time he sits by you, his thigh pressing flushed to yours. You’ve even caught him staring at you from across the room a few times, his eyes trailing over your figure, and you haven’t been able to stop yourself from imagining his curly brown hair rubbing at your inner thighs.

It’s a game. A dangerous, heated game, and with every passing day, his eyes seem hungrier as they meet with yours, and he seems to inch closer to you. Neither of you have acted on the sizzling tension that ripples between you, but you know it’s just a matter of time before one of you moves a little too close, or touches the other for a little too long, and it all explodes.

“What have you got there, Y/N?”

You’re pulled from your dirty thoughts by a question coming from the man you’re daydreaming about. Tom walks into the kitchen, raising a hand in greeting as he peers down at the package you’re holding. His deep brown eyes meet with yours as you smile at him in greeting.

“Just some clothes. I’m doing a brand deal and they want me to take some pictures and post them on my Instagram,” you explain. You put the package down on the kitchen table and carefully begin to cut along the seam.

“Getting that money, eh?” You laugh as Tom slips into a chair beside you, watching you curiously with his chin resting in his hands.

“A girl’s gotta make a living,” you reply. “Hey, do you think Harry would take some shots for me? It’s always hard to get the angles right.”

Tom hums beneath his breath. “Yeah, I’m sure he’d be down for that. He and Harrison are out at the moment, though, so you’ll need to wait-“ He falls silent as you tip the contents of the package onto the table, your cheeks warming immediately as you take in the garments you’ve been sent.

Lingerie. Several different pairs of matching bras and panty sets, in a scattering of different colours and designs. You feel your heart beat faster in your chest as Tom stares down at the pieces, his own face blushing a deep red.

“I think Harry might die if I make him take photos of me whilst I’m wearing this,” you admit, picking up a red lacy bralette. Tom’s younger brother has always been nice to you, but he radiates the sort of nervous energy that can sometimes put you on edge, and you immediately know you can’t ask him to photograph you. “Guess I’ll just have to struggle through this by myself,” you mutter dejectedly.

Tom’s eyebrows raise as he looks between you and the lace in your fingers, realisation replacing his shock. He sits up straight, stretching out his arms and his biceps flex as he meets your gaze. “I can always help you,” he offers shyly. You meet his eyes and his tongue slips out to wet his lower lip.

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“I’m not as good as Harry, but I like to think I’ve picked up a few of his tricks.” Tom reaches out, fingers connecting with the tops of your arms, and your breath hitches as he grins cheekily. “Besides, I’m sure I could help you with some of your angles. If you want, of course.”

The question hangs in the air. As his fingers gently trace over your upper arm, you know this is the opportunity to back out. He’s looking at you through heated, brown eyes, but you know he’ll leave it alone if you decide to draw the line here and maintain the professional distance you’ve been slowly narrowing. But you don’t want to, and suddenly, you’re overwhelmed by a longing for him to keep touching you, and the idea of him photographing you as you lounge around in this new, sexy lingerie sets your heart racing.

“I’d love that, Tom. Are you free just now?”

He nods quickly, the tips of his curly brown hair wafting in the air. “Definitely.”

[-----]

It takes you about twenty minutes to get ready for the shoot. You’ve been around in Hollywood for long enough to know how best to do your makeup and tie your hair, and much to your relief, the lingerie clings to you perfectly. The contract you’d signed states you only have to post photos in one of the sets, so you pick one with a nice, deep burgundy hue and then walk out into your bedroom where Tom’s waiting for you. His wide eyes fall on you and suddenly you get a little self-conscious, reaching up to cross your arms over your chest as his gaze slides up and down your figure, drifting over every inch of exposed skin. When he drags his eyes back to your face and gives you a bit of a smirk, a shiver rolls down your spine.

“You look stunning,” Tom says, voice hoarse. He clears his throat quickly, averting his eyes as his cheeks gain a healthy colour. “Really, Y/N… You look amazing.”

His compliments bring a smile to your face, and you carefully put your hands back to your sides. You feel tentative and shy, but you approach him anyway and pass him your phone. “Thanks, Tom,” you mumble, meeting his eyes quickly. “Um, I was thinking you can just get a few of me the window, and then after that, maybe a couple on the bed.”

“Sounds great.”

You hesitate for a moment, looking at him carefully. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

Tom runs a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face as he chuckles lowly. “I don’t mind at all, Y/N. There are worse things to do than take photos of a pretty girl like you.” You bite your lower lip as you smile bashfully at him.

“Okay,” you say. You move over to the window before adding a quick, “I will pay you back, Tom.” You punctuate your promise with a wink, and then turn around and try out a few positions against the window.

Tom gives you a few pointers as he starts to capture your shots. You know what you’re doing, but his advice helps you twist and angle yourself in the most flattering ways. The main focus has to be on the sponsored lace clinging to your chest, and as time goes by and he gradually moves nearer and nearer to you, your thoughts grow darker. You’d be lying if you said the seductive smiles and soft angles you’re throwing out are just for Instagram. It makes your heart race and a heat build between your legs to have him watching you so intently, occasionally chewing on his lower lip as he works. When you turn around and face the window directly, you arch your back purposefully and you can feel his stare hot on the curve of your ass, and as you throw your head back over your shoulder to meet his flushed face, you know you’ve caught him right in the act of checking you out.

“How are the photos?” You ask, breaking the charged silence after a few moments of sustained, intense eye contact. You relax your position as Tom steps nearer and passes back your phone, but he lingers by your side before draping a hand over your back. His hand rests on your naked hip, his touch gentle but it causes you to push into him greedily. He’s warm and he smells like pine trees and man, and your body is thrumming with so much sexual energy that you can feel your lace panties dampening.

“You look unreal,” he says, watching over your shoulder as you flick through the photos. “I’m not even sure they do justice to how incredible you look right now.”

You smile gratefully, favouriting a few of the shots. “You know, I think we’ve got as many as we need, actually. You did a really good job, Tom. Thank you.” You put your phone on the windowsill and turn to look at him properly. When his hand goes to slip from your waist, you reach down and grab at it, pushing it back into place firmly. His eyes meet yours, a curious questioning mixing with the dark lust, and you give him a smirk. “I know you liked watching me.” Your gaze briefly dips down to his crotch, and the way you can see the outline of his cock straining against his jeans. Emboldened, you lean up and brush your lips by his ear, “If you want me, you can just tell me.”

You keep your lips by his ear. When he reaches up and wraps his other hand around your waist and pulls you closer, you let your mouth drag down his neck, pressing soft, light kisses to his pale skin. You keep going until he whines, and then you suck against his sweet spot and nibble at the skin, teasing him gently until he wraps his fingers beneath your chin and tilts your face up to look at him.

“You’re such a tease, you know that, love?” He speaks, voice dropping an octave. His eyes are on your lips and the deep red lipstick you’ve coated them with, a burning fire dancing in his eyes. “Walking in here with all that lingerie, kissing my neck like that.” His fingers move from your chin and up to cup your cheek. “I want you,” he whispers, mouth brushing yours ever so slightly. The confirmation makes you wrap your arms around his neck, and you place a kiss just beside his mouth, grinning softly.

“Then have me.”

His mouth captures yours in a heated collision of lips and teeth, and you moan into his mouth as his hand slips back into your hair and tugs at your strands. His hot tongue slips into your mouth as you kiss him back passionately, your body burning from all the pent-up frustration you’ve been pushing back for weeks. The hand on your waist slips up to your back, holding you flush against him as his groans, his face flushed and his forehead sweaty, and your core throbs as you hold him close to you.

Tom breaks the kiss after a few mind-numbing minutes, and you know you’ve got lipstick smudged over your face, but you don’t care as he leads you over to the bed. You straddle his waist as he sits up against the headboard, his hungry hands trailing over every part of your exposed skin as your heart rate spikes. His thighs are firm and you can’t help but grind down against one of them as he pulls your mouths together again. The friction you get through your wet panties from his tough black jeans makes you whimper into his mouth, and he pulls back with a lazy smirk on his face, his pupils blown wide with lust.

“You’re so bloody hot,” he murmurs, hand brushing over your arm. “Can’t believe you’re here right now, looking like this. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He leaves a few soft kisses to your shoulder, gazing up at you softly, his brown curls strewn messily across his forehead. Your heart skips a beat.

You run a fond hand through his curls before pulling at the hem of his t-shirt. “I think you’re wearing too many clothes.” Tom laughs but holds up his arms as you pull it up and over his head, and then you roll from his lap as he wiggles out of his tight jeans and throws him aside. He pulls you back to his lap, this time positioning you so your centre rests over his black Calvin Kleins, and you rock down to feel his length pressing up against the fabric. “Shit, Tom,” you curse, the pressure sending rolls of pleasure through your clit. Your forehead falls to his as his hands move your hips, helping you grind against him as both of you feel a little relief. “I want you so bad.”

Tom moves quickly, flipping the position until you’re the one on your back, your head nestled in the soft pillows, and he’s pressed over you, caging you in with a strong arm either side of your head. He catches your lips in another kiss, and when he pulls back, he lets his teeth tug at your lower lip, catching your moan in his open mouth.

“Can I take these off?” He asks, pulling at the waistband of your red panties. You nod quickly and raise your hips as he tugs them down your body, his large hands pressing your thighs up and apart as he settles between your legs, his eyes drifting down your slippy slit. “Fuck, sweetheart. You’re absolutely soaked for me.” He drags a light finger through your folds, applying a very light, very teasing pressure to your clit, and it makes you grind down against him. “So fucking needy,” he coos, finally rubbing your tender bud with a little more pressure. As you gasp and fist your fingers in his hair, he moves his face nearer your core. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen a cunt this wet and hot for me. Mind if I have a taste, darling?”

His filthy words make your body shake, and the moment you’ve nodded your head, your back arches from the mattress as his soft, warm tongue slips out and wraps around your bud. One of his hands anchors your hips to the bed as the other accompanies his mouth on your core, and you moan loudly as he slips two sturdy fingers into your wet, aching entrance. It feels unbelievable to have Tom pressed between your legs, his fingers curling and pounding into your heat in a way that makes you cry out loudly. And his mouth - oh, god, his mouth - is unbelievable. You can tell he’s enjoying it by the way he works his tongue so smoothly, teasing lightly through your wet folds before circling back to your bud, kissing it and lapping over it and sucking it until you’re a sweaty, delirious mess above him.

Your fingers ache from the hold you’ve got on his hair, and you suck in a breath as you feel your edge approaching. “God, Tom, you’re so fucking good at that. I’m gonna cum if you keep it up.”

For a wonderful moment, you think he’s gonna keep going. He’s got his fingers pressed flush against your sweet spot and it feels so amazing that you’re about to melt, but then he smacks his lips and pulls back, leaving you high and dry and panting desperately on the sheets.

“Oh, what was that? You were gonna cum?”

You blink desperately down at him, surprised to see him looking up at you so confidently, with that teasing smirk dancing over his face. “Tom, I swear to god, you’re such a dick-”

“Shh.” He reaches up and drags his messy fingers over your mouth, and you part your lips to let them in. You swirl your tongue over his digits, humming lightly as you suck off your tangy juices, his eyes watching you darkly. It feels so dirty, but it sends a thrill down your spine, and your core continues to throb as you pull at his shoulders and bring him back up to you. “I think it’s only fair that we cum at the same time, princess? Don’t you?” He whispers.

You release his fingers with a pop, sighing frustratedly as you trail your hands down his toned front. His muscles pull taut and tense, and as you grab a peek at the lines of his abs, you find yourself wondering how you ended up like this with him. He’s so handsome it makes you ache, and it’s as if he can hear your thoughts as he presses a few kisses to your jaw.

“And you call me a tease,” you respond, eyelids fluttering shut as he drags his mouth over your neck. “Stop messing around and fuck me, Tom.”

“Mm, so demanding.”

You grab at his hair and tug his face away from your collarbones and up to your mouth, kissing him hard. “I need you,” you whisper hurriedly against his lips. “I’m going to explode if you don’t fuck me.”

His lips pull into a warm smile. “Well, we can’t be having that, can we?” He replies. “Condom?” You point at the bedside table and he disappears for a few moments, leaving your body cold and empty. Once he’s procured a shiny silver packet, you watch with wide, hungry eyes as he pulls off his boxers, pumps his length a few times, and then rolls this plastic over his tip before you even get a chance to touch him. He notices your pout and bites his lower lip as he moves back over you. “You can touch me next time,” he promises. “Right now, I just want to be with you.”

“Next time?” You mumble, your lips going to his ear as he pushes your thighs apart. You kiss his lobe softly, dragging your teeth over his skin until he whines.

“If you want there to be a next time, of course,” he adds. You make brief eye contact as your heart pangs in your chest, but then you find yourself distracted as his cock rubs through your aching slit and you curse, gripping his shoulder hard.

“I definitely want there to be a next time,” you promise. His tip prods at your entrance and it takes everything in you to keep back a whine. “Now, please, Tom, let me feel you.”

He presses a small kiss to your lips, and then follows through with your request. Your fingers dig into his arms as his length fills you completely and deeply, your jaw falling slack as you moan loudly.

“You’re so wet for me, love. Feels so good around me-” Tom’s voice breaks into a groan as his hips meet yours, finally in as far as possible. “Fuck, wish I could stay like this forever.”

You scatter a series of hot, breathy kisses to his forehead as you adjust to him, before running a hand over his shoulder and nodding certainly. “You can move now,” you say.

He rocks into you gently, exploring your hot heat with care as his hands move all over you. One moment he’s gripping at the lace on your boobs, the next he’s got his fingers slipping over your hard nipples, and after that he’s pulling on your hair. All whilst his cock pushes into you, gradually growing more fervent, your soaking pussy welcoming him in easily. Your groans mix with his as you cling to him, your entire body shaking from the tension building in your body as he fucks you hard and fast.

“I love your pussy,” he rasps, teeth digging into your skin as his sweaty forehead rests on your shoulder. With every thrust, he adjusts the angle, only settling into a proper pace as he hits your special spot and you moan loudly, raking your fingers down his back. “So fucking perfect, baby.” His mouth drops praises all over you and it just makes you feel even more into it as you push your hips down to meet his thrusts.

“You fuck me so well, Tom,” you groan into his hair. The muscles in his back ripple beneath your touch as he fucks you roughly. “God, you’re gonna make me cum.”

He manages to keep himself supported on one arm as the other slips down, his hand roaming between your bodies to find your pulsing bud. As he rubs over your trembling clit, you feel your orgasm build quickly in the pit of your stomach, everywhere feeling alert and hot and needy as you pull him closer.

“Mmm, you gonna cum for me, Y/N? Let me feel you clenching around me as you scream my name?” His voice is dirty and dark and the way his lips curl around your name makes you clench tightly. “C’mon, let go. I’ve got you.”

And he rolls his hips against you just as his fingers rub your clit, and it’s so deliciously hot that your head rolls back and your orgasm peaks. Your chest heaves, the lace wrapped around your breasts pushing up against Tom’s hot chest as you cum noisily, your body tingling as a pulsing warmth spreads out from your centre. Tom grunts and screws his eyes shut as you clench and squirm beneath him, and a few moments later you feel his rhythm falter as he reaches his peak too. You rock together as your highs mix and build, your hair sticking to your face as your moans turn to whimpers and your grip on his arm relaxes, and when he pulls out, you’re left feeling empty but satisfied. You breathe deeply as Tom collapses beside you on his side, his hand grabbing at yours as his eyes find yours, searching your face carefully.

“Wow,” is all you manage to say. You shiver from the pleasurable aftershocks, your body feeling light and tingly and completely fucked out, and when Tom pulls you nearer, you let him hold you in a hug against his hot chest, feeling happily settled in his embrace. “Anyone ever told you that you’re really good at that?”

Tom laughs gently, his hand pushing your hair from your face which allows him to kiss you again. It’s softer now, not burning quite as fiercely as it had before, but it’s still unbelievably nice to have him this close to you, loving on you so tenderly. “You really are something else, love,” he compliments. His eyes sparkle brightly as he squeezes your hand. “And I wasn’t lying earlier, I really would be down to do this again.”

He looks vulnerable and nervous for a second, but you quickly smooth away his nerves as you kiss him softly, gripping at the back of his neck. Your lips fit perfectly together, and it’s as if everything has finally slotted into place as you admit, “I would be more than happy to do this again, Tom. Maybe you can even take me on a date.”

His entire face seems to light up, and he leaves a quick kiss on your cheek as he grins. “I would love that, darling.”

[------]

A few hours later…

[@yourusername has posted a new photo]

| image |

@yourusername: good things come to those who wait...

Comments:

@tomholland2013: 🔥🔥🔥

@fan1: omg do u guys think they’re dating

@fan2: why has she tagged tom on her chest like that

@fan3: omg i ship it

[------]

any feedback? I would love to hear any thoughts you have on this!

masterlist

taglist ↠ see this post to be added :D

#tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland oneshot #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x reader #woohoo #lowkey highkey inspired by all the cute hot girls i follow on instagram #ooft #my writing #y/n #y/n use #self insert #self-insert #wahey #costar!reader #famous!reader #smut

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wtnrscap · 4 years

Text

It never stops

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: A lead in the ruins of Sokovia brings a face from the past back.

Ask:

Warnings: Set post-Endgame, swearing, a lil angst.

A/N: I have a bad feeling I’ve butchered your ask @badasseddy but I hope you still like it. Feel free to complain if you hate it. Currently writing a request a day, so I will get to everyone’s.

I cannot for the life of me remember who made this divider, so if it’s yours or you know who’s it is, please tell me so I can credit them.

81 years had passed since Bucky had last gone dancing, and he felt as though his eardrums were going to burst. Adrenaline shot through his veins, the alcohol having no affects. Sam nodded his head with the beat and Bucky groaned. Is this really what music passed for nowadays?

It took several punches to the arm for Bucky to realize that Sam was trying to get his attention, and he whipped his head around so fast they almost knocked each other out. Sam yelled and smacked Bucky’s metal arm, before screaming in pain.

‘Serves his right for dragging me to this hell’, thought Bucky. He watched as Sam pulled out a photograph and waved it in front of his face, “We’re looking for this girl. She’s undercover. Locate her and contact me on coms.”

Bucky yanked the photo out of the air and stared at, memorizing the girl’s face. He vaguely remembered her, but he didn’t know why. Her Y/H/C hair was tied in a lose ponytail, with striking Y/E/C eyes and a distinctive smile. Her arms were wrapped out Sam’s shoulder, while Steve’s arm rest on her shoulder. Bucky tried to ignore the youth of his friend and chose to focus on the fact that the girl was pretty. The natural kind of pretty that all the girls wanted but compensated with layers of makeup. Bucky tucked the photo into his jacket with slight reluctance. It was the type of photo where he would have cut the girl out and tucked it into his army uniform, reminding himself what he was fighting for.

The pair separated, Sam heading towards the dancefloor and Bucky the bar. A beacon of escape, Bucky decided. Sam had said no drinking on the job, but fuck Sam, if he wanted to drink, then he would. Bucky was immune to the addictive buzz anyway.

The bar was empty aside from a man in a suit at the end, but he seemed a little distracted, a girl on his lap, giggling at something that probably wasn’t very funny. The girls in this club knew how to make their living. Bottles were stacked almost floor high, dirty looking glasses and a few dripping taps. A girl stood at the end, scrubbing a smeared flute with a grubby cloth. Bucky tapped his fingers and she sauntered over, “What can I get ya, pal? Looking a bit lost there…”

“Well, I don’t really fit in. You see a lot of faces here?”

“As a bartender? More than I care to count. Need help with something?”

Bucky pulled the photo out, folded out Sam and Steve, and slid it across the wet bar, “I’m looking for this girl. Have you seen her?”

The girl lifted it up gingerly, letting it drip. As she analyzed it, Bucky gave himself a chance to look at her, weighing her up. Her hair was black with green highlights, ending on her shoulders. Her eyes were the same as the girl’s in the photo but the smile, it wasn’t the same. This wasn’t who they were looking for.

The girl slid the photo back, “She’s pretty, but I’ve never seen her. I think I’d remember her if I did.”

Bucky tucked the photo back into his jacket. The girl straightened up, a crease forming across her brow, “Are you sure you don’t want anything? A dry martini?” the girl looked up at him almost expectantly, but Bucky shook his head, “I’m good. I’ll probably be here till closing time, so if you see her, pull me over.”

“We can sink no lower…” mumbled Bucky, the toilet creaking dangerously below him. Sam hushed him quickly, “The girl is here. We have to stay ’till we find her.”

“And that means hiding in the toilets?” snapped Bucky, meriting another hush from Sam. Bucky frowned, “Hey, this is your fault! This was your idea! She never turned up, we could have come back another day, but no, we’re here, hiding in this hell hole.”

A thump from outside silenced him. Carefully, Sam left his cubicle, closely followed by Bucky, and propped open the door, enough for them to see and hear what was happening.

“Club’s closed boys. You need to leave…” the voice of the bartender echoed around the room. Several guffaws responded, “We weren’t satisfied with our service.”

“Not my problem. I run the bar, not the brothel.”

“I don’t think Batroc will be very happy with that. He employs you, does he not?”

“Yes…” the bartender’s voice trailed off nervously, “What are you going to do to me?”

“Show you what we do to unwilling workers. Grab her and strap to the table… That one, in the corner…”

Without hesitation, Bucky grabbed onto Sam’s arm, mouthing, “I can’t listen to this. We have to help her!”

Sam’s hand flew over Bucky’s mouth, “We’re not here for her… Stay put!”

Bucky pushed against Sam, trying to free himself from the Falcon’s grip, but Sam held him fast. A brief squabble broke out, Bucky and Sam fighting against each other, until Bucky used his metal hand to break free, rushing through the door to shocking sight.

The bartender wiped her lip, staring down at three men, “Touch me again, and I will fucking kill you.”

“Fuck…” thought Bucky, ‘I should not be this turned on…’

“Hey, pretty boy? Pretty boy? Pay attention to me!” the bartender’s voice snapped Bucky out of his daydream, “Meet me in the alley in 5 minutes. Bring Sam.”

The dingy alley smelt of piss and sick, but the bartender seemed unperturbed, flinging her arms around Sam’s neck, “Oh, I’ve missed you Birdie!”

“I’ve missed you too! We’ve been looking for you all night! Where have you been?”

“At the bar! Your friend approached me, I thought he would recognize me, but no, and when I said the words, he didn’t reply with the code!” the bartender shot Bucky an angry glance. Bucky snapped, “What words? I wasn’t told of any words. And why would I recognize you? I’ve never met you in my life! This is so stupid!”

The bartender huffed and pulled on her hair until it come off in her hand, revealing Y/H/C underneath. The black hair was a wig. Next, she pulled out the photo from Sam’s pocket and pulled up to her face and copied the smile. Bucky saw the resemble immediately, “It’s you…”

“My name’s Agent Y/N L/N, I’m undercover here. You probably don’t remember me, we didn’t really meet, but I helped Steve and Sam disappear in 2016. I saw you from a distance, but you were kinda wiped out, no metal arm and longer hair. As for the words, I was told to offer you a dry martini, and you should’ve responded with ‘I don’t like my martini’s dry’.”

“I hate martini’s altogether! And I gave you a photo of yourself!”

“I’ve had 4 people give me a photo of myself today alone! The people after you are on your case!” Y/N’s chest heaved with anger and frustration, “Baltroc will be in the old Sokovian church tomorrow at midday. He’s made several attempts to take over the Sokovian people after the country fell with Ultron. We’ve tried to enlist the help of Wanda Maximoff, but we’ve had no response.”

“She’s gone MIA… No one knows where she is…” responded Sam slowly, “If what you say is true, not that I am doubting you, then we need to get moving now. You are relieved of your duty. Where will you head?”

“To New York. I’ll go to the compound.”

“Well, I’m looking forward to seeing you there…” Sam pulled Y/N into a tight hug before turning to Bucky, “We leave in 10.”

Bucky nodded his head and looked down at Y/N, “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you.”

“Not your fault. I’m sorry I lost my temper.”

“Not your fault…” Bucky shifted awkwardly. Y/N smiled slightly, “Do you miss him?”

Bucky’s eyes widened almost comically. He hadn’t expected that from her, the mention of Steve. He noticed the way her shoulders slumped at the question, her eyes losing their sparkle slightly. He wondered how the snap had affected her, and, for the first time, wondered what an Agent like her was doing here, in the burned ruins of Sokoiva. He tried to match her smile, “Everyday… It’s hard… I know that he is still alive, but the whole world believes him dead, and I don’t actually see him very often now, so sometimes, it’s like he’s dead to me too. It just never stops, this life. It’s fast and hard.”

“I understand…” Y/N nodded her head, and Bucky spied a tear, and felt a pang in his heart, “Did… Did you love him?”

“Oh God no!” gasped Y/N with a chuckle, “Me and Steve were more like siblings or best friends. He helped me and I helped him… I wasn’t snapped away, so spent the last 5 years with him. I trained with Natasha, and when Scott came back, Steve sent me away. To protect me, he said. I don’t doubt him, but I wonder, if I stayed, would’ve I been able to stop him from leaving?”

“No. He had his mind set on it…”

“Why’d you ask if I love him?”

Bucky cheeks reddened, “Well, after I messed this up so bad, I wondered if once I got back to New York, you’d like to go for drinks… or not?”

“Sargent Barnes, are you asking me on a date?”

Bucky shivered at the use of the title, but tried to cover it, “Would you be opposed to the idea?”

“No…”

Bucky smiled at her as Sam yelled at him to hurry up. There was another moment of awkwardness before Bucky turned on his heel. Y/N stood still for few seconds before gasping, “Bucky! Wait!”

“What?”

It was Y/N’s turn to blush as she pecked a kiss on his cheek, “Be safe. Baltroc has a rep for maximum of casualties.”

“I promise, doll…” Bucky smiled at took her hand in his, “Never thought the night would end like this. And now, I must really go.”

Sam frowned as they stepped onto the Quinjet, “How do you do it, man? 5 minutes ago, you barely knew the girl, and now you’re going on a date with her?”

“It’s called charm, Birdbrain, you should try it some time.”

“I have charm! And a wingman.”

“Redwing does not count.”

Sam huffed and sat down in a seat, “He so does. Besides, when she realizes you have a cyber-brain, she’ll be gone.”

“Nah, I’ll just charm her again.”

“Not with that grouchy face. If the wind changes, your face will be stuck like that.”

“I hate you…” muttered Bucky. Sam burst out laughing, nudging Bucky’s shoulder, and the man let out a small snort, smiling gently.

It might never stop, but Bucky couldn’t deny, when it did, it was nice. Steve was gone, but he had Sam and now, Y/N too. Yeah... All was good.

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hurting-fictional-people · 3 years

Text

Betrayal Story - Stargazing

Tonight I bring y’all pure unabashed future fluff. I don’t think I’ve ever written something this soft before. I’d say it’s disgustingly soft, but the boys really needed some comf :’) we’ll be back to our programmed whump content in the next part lol

tagging @thelazywitchphotographer @swift-perseides @whump-it-like-its-hot @sunflower1000 @msrandonstuff @fromtheo-withlove @boxofsilence @lionhxartx @sometouchofmadness @paleassprince @livingforthewhump @1becky1 @shameful-indulgence @whatwhumpcomments @tropes-for-my-md-daydreams

(story starts here)

This is set many months after Liam is rescued, and after he forgives Chase for the betrayal. So, like, MANY months from where the story is now.

“I’m lost,” Liam whispers to the stars. The grass field in front of the cottage he and Chase rented or, more truthfully, stole for a few weeks, would be in complete darkness if it wasn’t for the tiny spots shining above him. There’s only the moon out here to listen and keep him company as Liam lets his eyes wander from star to star. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know who I am anymore.”

He doesn’t fight the tears that slip down from the corners of his eyes and disappear into his hair. Just lets them go, along with everything he used to be and doesn’t know where to find anymore.

“I do,” comes the voice from behind.

Liam flinches even before he has the chance to recognize Chase’s quiet tone. His cheeks tinge red, embarrassment gnawing at his insides.

“You weren’t supposed to hear that,” he says softly, watching from the ground as Chase lies down next to him.

“Sorry. I thought you might want the company.”

His heart is still pounding from the scare, but Liam has learned that he can never tell Chase no when he is being this open, so weirdly vulnerable, so different from the mysterious man he once was. Liam nods and looks back up.

“Did you know that the constellation right there is called Tiny Fairy?”

Liam turns his head to the side and frowns at Chase. “No, it isn’t. There’s no constellation called that.”

“Of course there is,” he says calmly, pointing a finger to the sky. “There are the wings, and right there the arms. See?”

Liam squints, but the stars, as usual, just look like stars. “I can’t see it, but okay, if you’re saying it then I believe you.”

Chase’s head snaps to the side, something akin to surprise in his gaze, the tug of a sad smile on his lips. “I’m not being serious. There’s no Tiny Fairy constellation. There could be, though, it really looks like it.”

Liam snorts and rolls his eyes. Fitting.

“Liam.” He shoots Chase a side glance. “Whoever you are now, whoever you’ve become after the hell you went through, is still someone worthy of love. Someone I’ll always admire and care about, no matter how much you change. You know that, right?”

His voice is light, as silky as his fingers once were against Liam’s skin. Still, somehow, it makes his heart weigh heavy inside of him.

“What if I don’t love me anymore?”

“I can love you for us both until you find yourself again,” Chase whispers.

Liam doesn’t smile, but something in his chest becomes a little lighter. There’s still hurt there, pushing and pulling and aching, but Chase’s words are a fresh breeze on a hot day. Blows away the heat, brings in a new breath of air even though they both know it won’t last. It’s only a breeze after all.

Still, Liam enjoys it while he can, and under the night sky with no one there but the two of them, he silently reaches out a hand to touch Chase’s fingers, fingertips only grazing his skin, but enough for his heart to race for the right reasons this time. He doesn’t have to look to the side to know Chase is holding his breath. He is too.

They move at the same time to entwine their fingers, and in tandem with them, a shooting star crosses the sky.

Liam makes his wish and tries not to look at Chase as he does.

The grass under his body flutters in the night wind, crickets chirp, and Liam pretends that this is all there is. That this is the whole world. That there’s no one out there hunting him, just waiting for him to slip up. This is his whole world, and all it is made of is Chase and the night.

“What did you wish for?” Chase asks after a while.

“If I tell you, it won’t come true.”

Chase laughs, and the sound fills one of the many little holes in Liam’s heart.

“What did you wish for?” Liam asks.

“What about the ‘if I tell you it won’t come true’?”

He smiles, and for once in a long time, the stretching of his lips feels true. Right. He smiles wider.

“You are beautiful,” Chase says, just like one would whisper a prayer. Despite every scar telling a different story, Liam believes him. There’s no way to doubt when Chase looks at him like that, like he is his whole world too.

“Can I–“, Liam stops, takes a deep breath, and shakes his head. “Never mind.”

“Can you what?” Chase squeezes his hand, a slight crease in his forehead at the uncertainty in Liam’s face. “Tell me.”

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers. It is nervous and small and hesitant and feels so infinitely stupid once it leaves his mouth.

They haven’t touched each other like that since the time when Liam thought Chase was a journalist. Even though sparks still dance over Liam’s skin every time their bodies come close, it never lasts. They always pull away. Liam, because sometimes the thought of being touched without notice feels too much like being back with Jonah. Chase, probably because Liam is so broken he’s become all but a burden now.

Why would he think that Chase’d want to kiss him now? Holding hands doesn’t mean that they are back to what they once were, not after all that happened. Not after he’s been ruined, scarred, broken.

What a stupid fucking idea, why did he–

“Are you sure?”

Liam stares at Chase, blinking surprised eyes at the hope on his face.

“I don’t want you to do something you don’t want to, or aren’t ready for,” Chase says, sounding as worried as Liam was a moment ago. “Are you–“

He raises himself up on one elbow and leans over Chase. Before he can finish the sentence, Liam smiles and presses his lips against Chase’s.

The kiss is something made out of tenderness and longing, sprinkled with stardust. It is soft, as soft as the hands they bury in each other’s hair, the one Chase wraps around his waist to keep Liam there.

When it ends, it is only so Chase can whisper “This was my wish. This, right here,” before kissing him again.

Liam smiles against his lips, and as the kiss deepens, he doesn’t tell Chase that this is what he wished for too.

#recovery whump #fluff #comfort #comfort whump #aftermath of whump #fluff whump #there's not even stuff to tag hahah #stargazing #betrayal story #look it's really rare for me to write actual fluff so... sorry if it looks too cliche i did my best 🥺

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waitimcomingtoo · 4 years

Text

Wait For Me

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: you tell Cap the story of all the times you and Peter waited for each other. Takes place during Engame

Listen to Wait For Me from Hadestown for the inspiration behind this story

Masterlist

6 years ago

“Whats the B for?” You asked as you traced your fingers over the shiny brass clasp of Peters suitcase. It was your first time hearing of his superhero abilities, and he had pulled out his suit to confirm his identity. You had always known there was something special about Peter, something that set him apart. Him being a superhero came as no surprise to you, so you were more distracted by the monogrammed suitcase where he kept his suit.

“Benjamin. Like my uncle.” He said as he watched your face for any signs of judgement. There was the slightest whisper of a smile on your lips as you rubbed your thumb over the engraving.

“I remember him.” You nodded and looked up at Peter, squinting your eyes to get a good look at him. “Benjamin. I like that for you. It’s fitting.”

“Is it? I always thought Benjamin was an old mans name.” He laughed shyly as he scratched behind his ear.

“No. It’s cute.” You told him and he flushed. “You look like a Peter Benjamin, you know? Some people just look like their names.”

Peters mouth opened and shut a few times and he tried to think of a response. He wasn’t used to talking to you everyday, much less used to how pretty you’d gotten. 10 years apart and suddenly you were hanging out in his bedroom everyday, catching up on the part a of each other’s lives that you had missed. Your delicate features, now more defined with age but still soft, made it hard for Peter to think around you. He thought he’d never see you again after you left but here you were, folded up in his bed and running you fingers over the material of his Spiderman suit.

“I’d say the same for you, but you never told me your middle name.” He said finally, thinking back in his memory for any indication of what it was. “It begins with an E right?”

You smiled softly at him, appreciating his keen memory.

“Eurydice.” You told him and he tilted his head.

“What?” He asked, not realizing that was the name.

“It’s Eurydice.” You repeated. “It’s from greek mythology. It was my mother’s favorite story growing up.”

“What’s the story?” Peter set the suitcase on the ground and scored closer to you to give you his full attention.

“You really wanna know?” You tested him, still able to tell when he was lying.

“With all my heart.” He said as he crossed his heart with his fingers. You rolled your eyes at him, not having seen that movement since you were litter.

“Okay. There are a few different versions, but this one is my favorite.” You began. “A long time ago, there was a poor woman called Eurydice and she was married to a musician named Orpheus. Eurydice knew they were gonna starve if they didn’t make some money and buy food, but all Orpheus wanted to do was make music. She ended up selling her soul to Hades-“

“Wait, you were named after a devil worshipper?” Peter cut you off with a laugh.

“No.” You shoved him playfully. “Hades is the god of the Underworld. He’s not the devil.“

“Okay. Go on.” He urged you, leaning his chin on his hands, unintentionally squishing his cheeks.

“So Eurydice sells her soul and gets sent to the Underworld. When Orpheus finds out, he goes on this long, dangerous journey to the Underworld to find her. He gets there and plays his music for Hades, the song he’s been working on instead of getting food. Hades was so moved by his music that made a deal with him: if he can walk out of the Underworld with Eurydice following behind him, they can both go free.” You went on, smiling at Peters squished face.

“Sounds easy enough.” He shrugged.

“It wasn’t.” You held up a finger. “There was a catch. Orpheus was never allowed to look back and make sure Eurydice was still behind him. He just had to trust that she was. He wasn’t allowed to look at her until they were both out.”

“So what happened?” Peter leaned forward, eager to hear the rest.

“They walk the long, scary way back to earth, guided only by a lantern. Orpheus goes the whole way and never looks at her. But right as he’s about to make it out-“ ,You paused for effect and Peter whined in anticipation, “-he caves. He looks at her and she’s sent straight back.”

“He couldn’t do it? He couldn’t take that last step?” Peter exclaimed, frustrated with the ending.

“He couldn’t wait to see his wife.” You sided with Orpheus to defend him.

“But he was so close!” Peter whined, getting worked up over a fictional story.

“I know. That’s what makes the story as beautifully tragic as it is.” You told him.

“Orpheus was an idiot. You’re lucky she named you after Eurydice instead.” Peter grumbled and you laughed easily.

“He wasn’t an idiot. He could see the world for how it could be, in spite of the way that is was. He just couldn’t wait to see his wife.” You said softly, still taking Orpheus’s defense.

“I bet I could do it. I could’ve gotten us both out.” Peter said definitively after a beat of silence.

“Oh, yeah? You think you could be patient and trust your girl?” You challenged him.

“If I truly loved her, yes. I’d wait forever if I had too.” Peter said confidently. “Wouldn’t you?”

You thought about it for a moment, not blind to the irony of his question. You looked Peter deep in his warm brown eyes, the eyes of your best friend since you were little, and nodded.

“Yeah. I think I would.” You said softly.

1 month ago

“What about you? You haven’t move on?” A member of Cap’s support group sounded from beside you, tearing you away from the memory. You blinked as you came back to reality and saw the faces of the rest of the members looking at you expectantly, including Cap.

“Sorry?” You asked, not having heard the question when you were lost in your daydream.

“You mentioned in the first meeting that you lost your boyfriend in the Blip.” The member, a man who lost his wife and daughter, repeated. “Have you moved on from him yet?”

“No.” You said, sitting up and fixing your shirt. “No, I haven’t.”

“Why is that after five years of him being gone? You’re the only one in the group who hasn’t moved on.” He asked. He wasn’t being reproachful, just curious. You and Cap were the leaders of the group and watched each week as the members slowly got their lives back to normal after losing their significant other in the Blip. It hadn’t even occurred to you that you were the only one who hadn’t moved on.

“Because I’ve already met the love of my life.” You said confidently. “I know it’s been 5 years. But I have already met the man I’m supposed to be with. Now I just have to wait for him to come come. He waited for me, and now I’m waiting for him.”

“He might not come for a long time, if he ever does.” A woman in the group spoke up. She wasn’t trying to be harsh, just realistic. You gave her a tight smile and nodded.

“I know.” You said. “But that doesn’t matter to me. I’ll wait forever if I have too.”

The meeting ended shortly after a few more members told their stories. It was nearing the anniversary of the Blip, and everyone was on edge. You were quiet as you and Cap stacked the chairs up, obviously to his stare.

“What did you mean back there when you said he waited for you?” Steve asked gently as he pushed a row of chairs against the wall. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, suddenly aware of how long it had gotten, and leaned against the row.

“It’s kinda a long story.” You told him. He took two chairs off the stack and set them down, gesturing for you to take a seat.

“I have time.” He remarked as he took a seat. You laughed lightly as his action and sat down, picking nervously at your nail polish.

“I met Peter when we were 3, and we were best friends almost instantly.” You began. “We learned how to ride bikes together, started school together, basically made all our foundational memories together.”

“Okay.” Steve nodded, urging you to go on.

“My dad did a lot of business in California when I was little and when he got promoted, he decided to move there. My parents didn’t tell me about the move until the day we were leaving. I was crying my eyes out in the taxi when we passed Peter’s apartment building.” You said, looking up at Steve to see his reaction. He was looking at you intently, having never heard you tell the story before. “I pressed my hands against the window of the taxi and stared at his building, totally heartbroken, until an idea came to me. Mind you, I was 7 at the time and had a love of action movies.”

“You didn’t.” He smiled coyly, knowing what was coming.

“I did.” You chuckled. “I jumped out of the moving car and just booked it. I didn’t stop running until I got to his door.”

15 years ago

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” Peter asked as he opened his door to you. You had done your secret knock so he knew it was you.

“I have to go, Peter. I’m moving. My daddy got a new job.” You panted, out of breath from running. Peters eyes widened, hearing the world possible news of his short life.

“Moving? Where?” He asked, suddenly aware of your red eyes and running nose, all signs that you had been crying.

“California.” You told him.

“Like with the movie stars?” He asked, childlike excitement replacing the pain.

“Yeah. That’s what my daddy said.” You nodded, remembering what your dad had told you to keep you from crying. You had to leave your best friend, but you’d be with the movie stars.

“When are you leaving?” Peter asked, picking at the paint on his door.

“Today.” You finally caught your breath. “We’re going to the airport right now.”

“But…but I won’t get to see you if you’re in California.” Peter mumbled, starting to get emotional.

“I know. I don’t want to go, Peter.” You shook your head, beginning to cry again.

“Then don’t go.” Peter protested. “You can stay here with me. Aunt May and Uncle Ben won’t mind.“

“Okay. Okay, and then we can stay together.” You agreed, liking his plan.

“Y/n?” Are you up here?” You suddenly heard your mothers voice and your eyes widened, as well as Peters.

“Get inside.” Peter pulled you in his apartment and slammed the door behind you, reaching up on his tippy toes to lock the door. You both panted from the quick move, the sound of the phone ringing get drowned out by your heavy breathing.

“I don’t want to leave you, Peter. You’re my best friend.” You cried, bunching the end of your dress in your fists.

“You’re my best friend too.” Peter hiccuped as he cried. You wiped your cheek on the back of your hand and used the bottom of your dress to wipe his face too. He smiled at you, giving you that warm feeling he always did.

“Please don’t fall in love with anybody else.” You blurted. “Wait for me to come back.”

“What?” Peter hiccuped again.

“I’m gonna grow up and I’m gonna make my own money and I’m gonna find my way back to you. Or, or I’ll run away and get on an airplane.” You plotted as Peter nodded along. “I’m gonna come back for you, Peter. I will, I promise I will. You just need to wait until I get back so we can get married.”

“Peter? Is Y/n here?” Mays voice called from the kitchen, making you both jump. You hugged each other and backed away as May came into the room.

“Go away!” Peter screamed, fully in hysterics now.

“Y/n, sweetie, your mom is on the phone. She said you ran away from the taxi.” May said gently as she bent down to talk to you. She noticed your scrapped knee, bleeding now, but you didn’t even seem to notice.

“I’m not going. I’m not leaving Peter.” You stated, clinging to him tighter.

“What’s going on here?” Ben asked when he heard the noise. He saw his recently orphaned nephew clutching his best friend and immediately understood.

“I can’t go to California. I won’t! I won’t leave Peter.” You cried, gripping the back of Peters overalls for supports.

“Aw, honey.” May sighed in sympathy as she out a hand over her heart at the sight of the terrified children. “It’s okay. You and Peter can write each other letters and video chat. You’ll still be able to see each other.”

“No! She has to move in with us.” Peter shot down Mays idea. Her heart broke for her nephew, already having witnessed him lose so much. The flowers from his parents were still on the table. She couldn’t bear to see him lose his best friend too.

“She can’t Peter. She has to be with her own mommy and daddy.” May tried to reason with him.

“Why? I’m not with mine.” Peter protested, making May tear up. Before she could respond, your mother knocked on the door.

“May? Ben? Is Y/n with you?” Your mother asked through the door. You and Peter began to tremble as you clung to each other.

“No!” You screamed, cowering into the crook of Peters neck.

“Ben, can you settle them down?” May asked as she went to open the door. You and Peter tried to run but Ben caught you.

“Now listen you two, if you really love each other and I know you do, you’ll find your way back.” Ben said prophetically, making you and Peter release your grip a little. “I met your Aunt May once when I was 7, and again when I was 17. I believe in you two. I believe you’ll be reunited one day. But for right now, Y/n has to say goodbye.”

You slowly let go of Peter and turned to face him, tears streaming down your young face.

“Goodbye, Peter.” You mumbled, dry heaving from how upset you were. Your mother and May exchanged glances, not being able to watch their children say goodbye.

“Goodbye, Y/n.” Peter whimpered, wrapping his arms around you and giving you the tightest hug he could.

“Wait for me?” You whispered in his ear.

“I will.” He whispered back.

“Promise?” You asked as you pulled away.

“Promise.” Peter said as he crossed his heart. You did the same before your mother took your hand. You cried as she dragged you out of the apartment, looking back and reaching for Peter the entire way. You broke free from her for a moment and ran to Peter, kissing him on the lips like you’d seen the movies stars do. His eyes were wide open the entire time, but he liked it. Your mother scooped you up, said goodbye to May and Ben, and left the apartment. May and Ben stared at Peter as he touched his lips, still feeling your kiss. He sniffled, trying not to cry again as he watched his best friend leave him for the next ten years.

1 month ago.

“So, yeah. That was the first time he and I were separated. I don’t know which time was worse. They both killed me, just with different weapons. At least when we were 7, I was able to say goodbye.” You shrugged it off as you finished telling Steve your story. He stared at you in awe as you kept your composure. He had listened to a hundred songs stories about losing a loved one, but none of them had moved him like that did.

“How did you guys reconnect? Did you actually run away?” Steve asked, fully invested in the story now. You chuckled softly as his keen memory.

“No. I tried to but I never got very far.” You told him. “I ended up moving back to New York for college. My friend and I rented an apartment instead of living on campus.”

6 years ago.

“Shoot. I’ll meet you up there. I forgot a bag in the lobby.” Your roommate sighed when she realized she was missing her carry on.

“Okay. Text me when you get it.” You told her. Instead of getting on the elevator, you decided to stretch your legs and take the stairs. You had lugged your suitcase up a long flight and were about to round the corner when you smacked into someone. You almost went flying down the stairs, but something grabbed your shirt, something you’d later find out was a web, and sent you in the other direction. You collided with the stranger, feeling their firm grasp around your waist to keep you from falling back. You both panted as you caught your breath, feeling the strangers breath fam your face.

“I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking and-Y/n?” The man asked. You blinked a few times as you stared at his face until you realized you knew those brown eyes.

“Oh my God, Peter?” You whispered as your eyes scanned his face, memorizing every new line and crease. His eyes were just as wide as yours, studying your features right back. An unfamiliar feeling filled your tummy as you stared at your childhood best friend, now fully grown. You couldn’t find the words to express how you were feeling, so you let go of your suitcase and wrapped your arms around his neck. Peter hugged you back immediately, taking in your scent. You were wearing perfume, something you hadn’t done when you were seven, but his super scent allowed him to smell your usual smell underneath it. Hugging you now felt different than it had when you were younger. His arms were wrapped around your hips, something you definitely didn’t have before. Your forever messy hair was longer and neat for once, as he was always used to seeing it in two braids. He could’ve cried holding you, but he didn’t want to scare you off. You pulled away and cupped his cheeks, smiling at what you saw.

“You look exactly the same.” You let out a breathy laugh. He did. He still had the boyish features you loved. The only difference now was he was taller and incredibly fit.

“Is that a good thing?” He chuckled, pleased to see your smile was just as he remembered.

“It’s the best thing.” You nodded, looking him up and down. “I can’t believe you never grew into your ears.”

“And you! You finally learned to brush your hair.” He dished it right back and you realized how much you missed his sense of humor, even better now with age.

“Shut up.” You scrunched your nose and smoothed your hand down with your hair. “What are you doing here? Did you move?”

“You remember my old place?” He raised his eyebrows, suddenly aware that his was still holding on to you. It didn’t seem to bother you, so he didn’t move.

“Uhh, Lee Towers apartment building, room 4D with the little flower sign under the peephole.” You recited, the view of his apartment door forever engraved in your no memory. The door always looked so big when you went from your height. “How could I forget? I practically lived there.”

“I know you did.” Peter smiled brightly at the memory of all your days spent in his apartment, the apartment he said goodbye too once Ben died. “May and I moved here a few months after high school started for a fresh start.”

“And I just moved here for college.” You said, mostly to yourself as the wheels in your Brian turned. You looked at Peter fondly and a smile tugged at your lips. “Your Uncle was right.”

“What do you mean?” He furrowed his eyebrows as you his face flushed from your close proximity.

“We found our way back to each other.” You said softly, your breath ticking his face.

“Yeah. I guess we did.” He bit back a smile, still reeling that he had you back in his arms after 10 years.

“Come on. You can tell me everything that’s happened for the past ten years while you help me unpack.” You grabbed his suitcase with one hand and his arm with the other. “But first, I gotta see May.”

1 month ago

“We talked the entire day. The sun started coming up and I was still telling him stories.” You smiled to yourself as you remembered the reunion. “We bounced back so easily, I felt like I had never left.”

“When two people are that right for each other, time has no effect. I speak from experience.” Steve smirked, a knowing gleam in his eyes.

“I know you do, lover boy.” You teased him. “I’ve seen your lady. She’s absolutely gorgeous.” You commented, having seen the photo of Peggy he kept on him more than a few times.

“She was.” He agreed. “And I found her just as pretty as an old broad as I did when we first met. Time meant nothing to me.”

“See? Sometimes, moving on is the wrong way to go. Some people are worth waiting for.” You decided, happy to have someone who agreed with you.

“So what happened next? Did you guys fall in love right away?” Steve asked, curious in the ending.

“No. It took about 3 months for us to finally bring up that conversation from before I left. We focused on rebuilding our friendship first.” You explained.

“I tell ya, I haven’t been this invested in a story since my presumedly dead best friend from the war showed up with a metal arm and a bloodlust.” Steve chuckled. “Keep going. How did you get together?”

“Relax. I’ll tell you.” You chuckled easily. “He and I had just got home from a college party. There was drinking, but Peter and I stayed away from that. A boy in our biology class, however, did not. He was flirting with me a little too much for Peters liking. I didn’t flirt back, but that didn’t matter to Peter. Another boy was after me and he got upset.”

5 years ago

“Whew. I don’t know about you, but think I’ve hit my party limit for the next month.” You blew out a breath as you kicked your heels off into the corner of Peters rooms

“No, me too.” Peter agreed, admiring the way you looked in your party dress one last time before you changed out of it. You shut the door to his bathroom but left it slightly ajar as you changed behind it. Peter made sure not to look, happy that you couldn’t see the flush on his face. You emerged from the bathroom in a hoodie and sleep shorts, taking a seat on Peters bed.

“You’re quiet.” You poked him, tilted your head to meet his eyes. “What’s up?”

“Nothing.” He shook his head and took your feet into his lap to rub them, knowing they were aching from your high heels. “Did you uh, get Brads number?”

“He told me his number but there were letters and some movie titles in it, so I’d say no.” You laughed, wincing a little when he touched a sore spot.

“He was all over you.” Peter grumbled, moving your feet next to his lap so he could trace small patterns on your leg.

“He was also drunk on 5 Black Cherry White Claws and wearing his belt on his head.” You reminded him in an attempt to cheer him up. He was clearly upset over something, you could tell by the way he wouldn’t look at you.

“He’s on the soccer team.” Peter brought up and you looked at him strangely. “I heard he gets good grade too.”

“Are you trying to set us up or something?” You laughed him off as you pulled your knees up to your chest to lean your chin on them.

“No. No, I just…” ,he sighed, “do you like him? In that way, I mean?”

“Peter, I don’t even know him.” You dismissed the idea. “Plus, he made a total fool of himself tonight. He threw any chance he had with me away the second he opened his mouth to show me his Viking impression.”

“Do you like anyone else, then?” He asked with a shrug, slowly looking up at you.

“Why are you asking me this?” You asked him curiously. You never talked about things like this together, lest it lead to a conversation neither of you were ready for.

“I’ve just been thinking a lot lately.” Peter admitted, looking down at his hands nervously. “Do…do you remember the last thing we talked about? Before you left, I mean.”

“When I asked you to wait for me?” You laughed softly, noticing the tips of his ears turning pink.

“Yeah, that.” He gulped.

“Of course I do.” You shrugged like to were not big deal, even though it was the biggest deal to Peter. “To this day, that’s the boldest thing I’ve ever done. Kissing you and then running away? I pulled a real Cinderella on you that night.”

“I thought it was sweet.” Peter defended, slightly offended that you were taking the situation as lightly as you were.

“It was stupid. We were kids and we had no idea when we were gonna see each other again. At the time, I had no idea how unrealistic I was being, or how much I was asking of you. Didn’t I propose to you or something?” You cringed at the memory. Peter stared at you in shock, angry that you were making fun of one of the most momentous moments of his childhood.

“I didn’t think you were asking for that much.” He said assertively. “Nothing I wasn’t planning on doing anyway.”

“What were you planning on doing?” You asked, finally noticing how upset he was.

“Waiting for my best friend to come back so I could be with her.” Peter said, tears stinging his eyes as he tried to compose himself. “Marry her, even.”

“Shut up.” You shoved him playfully, but he didn’t let up. Your smile faded when you realized he was serious.

“Why are you making this a joke?” Peter asked bitterly. “Do you know how hard that day was for me?”

“Do I know how hard it was?” You repeated in shock. “Peter, I had to leave my home and get on a plane to live in an entirely new state that I had never been to before, all with no warning. My mother had to rip me out of your grasp while I kicked and screamed. I know exactly how hard that day was.”

You turned away from Peter and folded your arms, glaring at his wall while hot tears streamed down your face. You had been trying to avoid this conversation in fear of how it would go. Fear he didn’t wait after all when you had turned down every boy who approached you in the past ten years because they didn’t amount to Peter. The fears were feeling very real in the moment and it overwhelmed you.

“Why did you kiss me?” He asked quietly. You looked at him over your shoulder and saw that he was crying too.

“Something inside me just told me I had to.” You shrugged slightly. “I had to give you something to make sure you wouldn’t forget me.”

“I could never forget you.” Peter said assuredly. “You don’t forget your first love.”

“I guess you don’t, do you?” You smiled softly and wiped your tears on your hoodie sleeve. “I loved you before I knew the meaning of the word. But I didn’t really need the meaning, looking back. The feeling was enough. Feelings for you.” You looked at him shyly. “Feelings that told me I needed to kiss you before I lost the chance. I guess that’s what happens when you’re 7 and in love with your best friend.”

“Well, I’m 18 and in love with my best friend. What happens then?” Peter declared, tired of beating around the bush. You turned to him and tugged your sleeves over your hands.

“Peter, what?” You whispered.

“That kiss you gave me was my first kiss.” He admitted.

“Mine too.” You said simply.

“It was also my last kiss.” He continued. You opened your mouth and shut it, taking on the weight of what he was saying.

“Mine too.” You breathed. You and Peter stared at each other, looking at the face of the best friend you’d fallen in love with, the one you’d always been in love with. You swallowed as you prepared to ask Peter the answer to a question you asked him when you were 7. “Did you-“

Peter cut you off by pressing his lips to yours, holding your face in place with his hands. You put your hand on the back of his neck and kissed him back, feeling a tear fall down your cheek as all your fears dissipated. Peter pulled away and rested his forehead against yours.

“Yes.” He mumbled against your lips. “I waited.”

1 month ago

“That’s how it started. We were only together about 9 months before he disappeared.” You told Steve. “You know, I still go home every night and hope he knocks on my door. I always expect him to burst through the door, his flannel flowing behind him like a cape and just pick me up and kiss me. He’d thank me for waiting and I’d tell him it was nothing, that I was happy to do it, because he was worth it.”

“You know, I used to think you were stubborn. But I get it now.” Steve looked at you fondly. “That’s a love worth waiting your entire life for. What I don’t understand is how you sat in that chair for 5 years and never told us that story. Why wouldn’t you say something?”

“Because it’s ours, and it’s all I have left of him.” You smiled sadly. “I don’t want to share it and make people sad, because it’s not a sad story. To me, it’s the greatest love story of all time.”

“We’re gonna get them back. One way or another, we’re gonna fix this. I promise you, I’ll do everything in my power to reunite you guys.” Steve said definitively.

“Why?” You asked him.

“Because I don’t want your story to end like that. You’re 23. I can’t sit back and watch you sit on the bench for the rest of your life, waiting for somebody to come home. I’m gonna bring him home. All of them.” Steve declared.

“How?” You asked. It had been 5 years already and no progress was made to get them back.

“I have a friend I need to talk to. You’re coming with me. Come on.” He stood up and held his hand out. You looked him up and down before smirking and taking his hand.

Present Day

Since you helped bring the Avengers together to set the Time Heist in motion, Tony decided it was only fair to let you help out in the final battle with Thanos. He leant you an Iron suit that you were currently using against a slew of space dogs. The more you fought off, the more came to attack you. It didn’t help that your heart was beating out of your chest knowing that Peter was somewhere on the battle field. You didn’t know how long you had been fighting, but your arms ached with every movement. You sucked in a sharp breath as a space dog lunged at your uncovered face.

You were about to cover your face when you felt something attach to your suit from the back. Before you could react, you felt a tug and flew through the air. You landed in somebody’s arms and saw the battlefield upside down as they dipped you, just like in the movies. They brought you back up and you were suddenly face to face with Peter Parker.

“Is my damsel in distress?” His Queens accent filled your ears as your eyes fell on his smirk.

“Peter?” You said breathlessly, eyes filling with tears at the sight of your boyfriend who you hadn’t seen in 5 years.

“I think so, unless my dust particles reconfigured into Zooey Dechannel.” Peter said sarcastically, making you erupt in laughter as the tears fell down your face.

“Peter!” You squealed, throwing your arms around him and hugging him as tight as you could. His new metal suit made it different, so you restarted to running your hands through his hair, trying to touch any part of his skin that you could reach. In the distance, Steve saw the two of you embracing and smiled to himself.

“Hi.” He laughed in your ear, appreciating all the affection. In his mind, he had seen you just a few hours ago. He didn’t register how much this meant to you. You buried your face in his neck and took in his scent.

“You smell like a new car.” You laughed in happy surprise, looking him up and down to take in his appearance. He looked exactly as you remembered, every freckle and hair in the same place.

“It’s the suit. Mr. Stark made it for me.” Peter said excitedly.

“Its beautiful.” You breathed, not taking your eyes off his face.

“Thank you! I haven’t actually seen it yet but it feels really cool.” Peter said as he looked at his hands. He was obviously to the moonstruck look you were giving him, just happy to be near him. “Mr. Stark got really mad at me because I snuck on the spaceship after he specifically told me not to sneak on the spaceship but it was a good thing because I helped get rid of the bad guys using the technique we saw in Alien.”

“Wow.” You nodded, just happy to be hearing his voice again.

“And the bad guy was like this half squid, half person who spoke with a British accent even though he’s from space.” Peter went on, childlike excitement filling in the brown eyes you’d been missing for the past 5 years. “Y/n, I don’t mean to overwhelm you, but I’m pretty sure there’s a second Britain in space that we don’t know about.”

“Really?” You humored him, tears of happiness still rolling down your face.

“It was so cool, Y/n. Until I died, anyway.” He laughed. “I wish you could’ve been there.”

“I wish that too.” You cried. “I’ve really missed you, Peter.”

“I’ve missed you too.” He smiled brightly. Your lip began to tremble at how I overwhelmed you were and Peters protective boyfriend instincts took over.

“Hey.” He took your chin between his fingers and tilted your face up. “Listen, I know it’s been five years for you and I’m a fool to even ask. But, by any chance, did you-“

You put your hand on the back of his head and pulled him into a kiss. The feeling of his lips on yours after all those years triggered a waterfall of tears to flow. You wrapped both arms around his neck as he held your waist firmly against his, kissing you as hard as he could. You sobbed into the kiss before pulling away, peppering kisses all around his mouth and jaw.

“Yes.” You smiled as he wiped away your tears. “I waited.”

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